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They were the best of trains, they were the worst of trains. I'm back from my transcontinental rail journey, and I've got a lot to report. So much happened! The prize money, the odd connections, the quirky characters, the far removed stations, the beatings, the dealings with the police...
My journey began at Salisbury, NC on a humid summer night. I felt a little worried about my safety as I waited on the platform in the wee hours. The northbound Crescent was due at 2:49 AM. Far off in the distance, I could hear the rattle of chainsaws and glass shattering and people screaming. A misty rain began to fall as a gloomy fog rolled in. A giant wrestler guy appeared. He was wearing a pair of star spangled shorts.
2:49 came and went. The Crescent was late. The wrestler guy asked me if I knew anything. I told him I knew Henry Hudson first sailed up the Hudson River in 1609. He just looked at me. My attempt at humor went the way of the steam engine. So I moved on. I called Amtrak. The Crescent was three and a half hours behind schedule. It wouldn't reach Salisbury until 6:20 AM. It was going to be an all-nighter.
The wrestler guy explained why he was taking the train. He'd missed his tour bus while frolicking with a fan of the female persuasion. Now he had to get to Washington, DC. His name was Bulk. I told him I was going on a cross-country Amtrak trip, starting from Salisbury. Only I was headed to New York.
Since we had nothing to do but wait, I dared him to a wrestling match. He said I wouldn't like what would happen to me. I called him yellow and questioned his masculinity. Finally, I provoked him enough to get him to agree to one round. The station was deserted. I stripped down to my skivvies.
We circled one another. I tried to get my hands on his shoulders. He brushed my arms away with tremendous force. Suddenly he lunged at me. He lifted me up sideways and knelt on one knee. Then he let me fall like a dead weight on his knee. The pain in my back was excruciating! "Is that all you got?" I chided as I staggered to my feet. Once again we circled. "Sure you wannna keep going, little man?" he replied. I lunged at him and grabbed him around the torso. He jumped forward and fell on me. The wind got knocked out of me. My entire body ached. Next, he stood up and kicked me in the stomach several times. I could feel the moist platform pavement scrape my face. "Get up!" he snarled. Somehow I managed to do it. The next thing I knew I was being twisted by the scissor kick move. My nose was bleeding. My knees were bleeding. "Uncle!" I cried out. He stopped attacking me immediately and extended a hand to help me up. I struggled to talk. I said, "Wow, man, you're really an excellent fighter!" I was breathing hard. I had taken a real lickin'.
"Better put your shirt and pants back on," Bulk said. "That train could be close." I went over to a bench and dressed. I looked forward to lying down in my roomette berth. First I'd have to clean up all the blood, though.
We heard a train horn. A very long train appeared and pulled up to the platform. It wasn't the Crescent. It was the Blue Unit of the Ringling Brother's circus train. A skinny guy with glasses and a white goatee opened a cargo door, leaned out, and asked us if we would help him feed the elephants while the locomotives were being refueled. Then the man asked, "Aren't you Bulk Deadweight, the wrestler?" Bulk nodded and said "That's me. How're ya doing?" The man explained, "We're on our way to DC for a show tonight." Bulk said, "I'm going to DC too, but the train is three and a half hours late." The man brushed his whiskers and asked, "How'd you guys like to ride the circus train? We can put each of you in a sleeping car room. Whaddya say?" We nodded yes and climbed aboard the train. The man reminded us, "Don't forget, you guys gotta feed the elephants before you turn in."
As I hoisted myself into the vestibule, I paused and turned my head to the left. I don't know why. But there in the shadows stood a man in a fedora hat and a trenchcoat. He stared at me intently. I had an eerie feeling. He looked like a government agent. But I was excited to be on my way, so I didn't give him any more thought.
I was tired and beat up, but I summoned the energy to feed the elephants with Bulk. We talked and laughed as we worked. I got elephant saliva on my arm. You have to push the food way back in the elephant's mouth. Elephants are herbivores. They eat grass and fruits. Goes to show that travel educates a person.
When we finished feeding the elephants the man who had invited us aboard, Woody, brought us to our accommodations. The train was already underway again.
My suite was very luxurious. It was Bedroom E. The walls were made of polished mahogany. The windows were framed with ornamental stained glass. The room featured a queen size bed with 1000-count Arabian cotton sheets and a big puffy comforter. A little clown-shaped chocolate candy lay on the pillow. A genuine Monet hung above the headboard. There also was a separate bathroom with a spacious marble and glass shower. All the fixtures were made of gleaming gold. For enterainment, there was a big screen tv with DVD and Blu-Ray. There was an Internet PC. There was a jacuzzi with a mini-bar. There was a chestnut writing desk with a speakerphone. And if all that failed to impress, there was a collapsible vistadome just for two atop a spiral staircase! I called room service and ordered eggs benedict. Then I took a hot shower. The water flow was adjustable to seven different settings. It sure felt good to get that slimy saliva and dried blood off of me. The bathrobe hanging outside the shower had my initials monogrammed on it. According to Woody, we were due at Alexandria Yard outside DC around 1:30 PM. I could get six or seven hour's sleep.
END OF PART ONE
-------------------- Everybody has to believe in something. I believe I'll take the train! Posts: 230 | From: Ithaca, New York | Registered: May 2009
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And did the wrestler guy turn out to be GBN in those star spangled shorts? Hopefully when it was all over, you guys sat down over a friendly jug of (what else?) a very grand Pinot Noir? Posts: 588 | From: East San Diego County, CA | Registered: Oct 2004
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Excellent piece, dns!!! Looking forward to Part 2. Are you a writer by profession?
Posts: 2428 | From: Grayling, MI | Registered: Mar 2002
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