Stewart Dawson
The Train
“Better is the end of a thing than its beginning and anger lodges in the bosom of a fool.”
(Eccles. 7:8-9)
He left at about 9:40 PM so he could make it home for the 10:00 news on channel 13 with Dick Knowman. Normally it took about ten minutes to get to the house where he was living and that would give him about ten minutes to brush his teeth, climb into bed and get comfortable before the program started. He liked to be comfortable when he watched the news. The traffic was light and the evening was still so making this short drive across town would be easy like getting to know a girl that you really like who wants to get to know you also.
He liked trains and he always had a fascination with them. He thought to himself, trains are like distance and longing and loneliness. They are poets who have steel rails for stanzas and many miles for meter. Some poems are like box cars and some poems are like Pullman cars. Some poems are like cabooses, obsolete and forgotten. On this night, however, he wasn’t planning on reading any poetry. He just wanted to watch the 10:00 news.
His was the first car at the train crossing when the lights started flashing and the gate came down. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding went the bell. He stopped and waited. He looked both ways and didn’t see a train. “False alarm”, he said to himself. These things happen. Cars started lining up behind him and cars started lining up in the opposite direction. They waited. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding… The bell closed its eyes and imagined it was a strange noisy clock that was trying very hard to keep track of eternity. The flashing lights were pretending to be light years. It was something they did to combat the boredom of being part of a railroad crossing. Even though it was better than sitting there doing nothing at all, it was still monotonous. The gate just liked being down for a change. The gate wasn’t as hard to please. They all had their little games to play to pass the time, but they knew as he knew that time was relative.
Minutes passed (about five: plenty) and still no train, but finally he saw a headlight far down the tracks. He couldn’t tell if the headlight was getting closer or if it was standing still and he didn’t hear a whistle. He pretended he was Albert Einstein when Albert was just a little boy. The pretentious forever bell clanged on: Ding ding ding ding ding ding… Finally he heard a train whistle! Things were picking up! The light seemed closer too! A train is coming! He imagined little Albert over a hundred years ago waiting for the circus to roll into town. Oh joy!
Now it was ten minutes away from the news. He could still make the opening headline. He could brush his teeth during the first commercial break. Again the horn sounded and the light was closer. Time was being compressed and soon he thought he would be experiencing Doppler at his finest! Alas, it would not be soon enough. The train was going……very………..very……………..slow…..! Doppler was going to have to take a back seat to the tortoise this time. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding… the infinity bell persisted.
At long last, the first of three engines approached the gate: VERY loud horn. As a child he remembered his father suggesting he should count the cars when a train went by because it would give him something to do when he went with his dad on business trips. (He always included the engines but he had never been sure if engines were allowed in the train counting rule-book.)
“One engine……………………two………………………three……………………………..first box car………………………………………….five……………………………………………..six……………………………………………………………..seven…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The train was going slower and slower and then it was not moving at all. Doppler was no longer on the red-shift express. Now the evening news was fading swiftly like a dream from his possibilities. Even brushing his teeth seemed like a distant planet, green and lush, uninhabited and unspoiled by intelligence. He stared at rust and graffiti as time stood still. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding… The eternity bell started to echo and fold and overlap and twist and turn in on itself as if it were a ringing Mobius strip. Even the gate was starting to get bored and it wanted to go back up just to have something else to do. All of this had taken nearly twenty minutes. The opening announcements of the news were almost over. He forgot all about brushing his teeth. They say, “Never, ever try to beat a train across the tracks!”
The train wasn’t moving. There would be no headline news tonight. Everyone waited. The lines of cars were getting longer. Some cars honked. He didn’t see any point at honking at a train. Some cars further back were able to make U-turns and drive away. But most cars were just stuck there. It was now five minutes past ten. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding… The universe bell seemed to be reaching the limits of outward motion. The flashing lights were the perfect example of red-shift. Christian Doppler could have been working on a brand new theory here. Then suddenly there was a whistle and a loud steel jerk and the train wheels began squeaking.
Patience is like a slow moving train and hope is like a turning wheel. If you count v e r y s l o w l y to fifty four, you will get a good idea of how long it took the train to finally pass the gate. Fifty four cars, including engines. The train moved slowly down the tracks. The red light on the last car just shrugged its shoulders. You could almost hear everyone in all the cars cheering. He started his car and put it into gear and…waited. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding…………….The incessant, tedious, monotonous, interminable and incalculably perpetual bell continued. The flashing back and forth light years continued. The gate was exhausted and really wanted to go back up. Now he could see the opposite line of cars on the other side of the tracks and it was like peering far out into space at distant galaxies and time and futility. It was a quarter past ten. The gate and the bell and the lights remained. The last car of the train was waving goodbye and sticking its tongue out. Patience and hope sometimes yield great rewards. But he was not getting younger.
He turned his steering wheel hard to the left, gave his engine a serious jolt of gas and bounced up over the median. He turned his steering wheel hard to the right, rattled diagonally across the tracks, and then wheeled hard to the left again. As he drove away past all the cars in the opposite lane, he kept one eye in the mirror to watch the gate and the flashing lights. Some cars were honking at him. He thought about sticking his tongue out at them, but he didn’t. The crazy bell receded in a wonderful Doppler shift. The gate stayed down and the flashing lights continued until he could no longer see them. As he drove the last mile or so to the house, he thought that Einstein and Doppler would have a wonderful conversation over this (and a nice cup of tea). He also thought that it would be especially nice if Newton and Gallileo and the great Greek astronomer Callippus could have joined them as well, (although there is not a lot of evidence that Callippus enjoyed tea.)
He made it home in time for the weather report with Robin Marshwind. “It will be nice tomorrow.” She said.