Standing out between the rail cars in the open air, somewhere in Iowa, grasping the step handles, and trying to make sense of things, he watched as his vomit appeared suspended in air, much like the time so similar on an amusement ride as a child.
On his way out to Colorado, after being talked into the train of last resort, he assumed that the engines stalling were not a good thing. Grinding to a halt, he learned that the train would require some repair, and the passengers should remain patient. He read his book for as long as he could concentrate, but soon the stirring conversations were too alluring, and he mustered up some wit and joined in.
Remarkable, how our fellow humans respond to such circumstances, receptive and encouraging, particularly after the conductor announced that the dining bar was open, and complimentary. We had been sitting for three hours.
This was one of those times. The power and lights were out on the train and they handed out green glow sticks and mini wine bottles to the passengers. All became friends. When one would risk humor, everyone laughed, making it easy to be young and restless. He did his best to open up to all, learning that only ego-idiots spoke exclusively to the attractive people, but rather, attempting to engage each and all, made friends of all, which in turn made him feel real and alive, and most importantly, human.
At one point we were singing songs together, after having long lost the interest in when the train would roll again. But it did, after a six hour wait. He ended asleep in someone’s warm arms, for a spell, but in the early morning hours the crazy vibration and throbbing of the rail cars caused him to seek fresh air.
Starring out from between the cars he could see the countryside flipping past like the frames on an old movie reel. The farm fields stood proud and stiff in the cold December night air. He was hurting, and then of course, he was also heaving.....but soon he knew he'd be skiing.
