Quicksilver Express

Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump. A pattering of rain and howling wind. An odd swaying that lulled a middle-aged man in and out of consciousness. Moaning, he shifted position on the floor, stretching his oddly aching leg. His head felt heavy and was throbbing. Had he hit his head? Where was he? Opening his eyes, the man was startled to see he was in a train car. Rising from the floor, he used the window table to help him steady himself.

Gathering his wits, he realized he was more precisely in a sleeper car on a train. The window showcased a dark night sky with random flashes of lightning. The steady pattering of rain against the window made him realize how thirsty he was. Amazingly, on the window table was a cup of hot coffee as though timed perfectly for his awakening. His cottony mouth might be better served with water, but he gladly partook of the coffee. As the taste exploded on his tongue, he realized that coffee was a staple in his life that he drank more readily than water. As he savored the black liquid, he noticed a book lay open on the table.

Sitting down at the bedside, he pulled the book across the table where he could view its contents while he nursed the cup of coffee.

“A man awakened in a sleeping car on the Quicksilver Express, a train for mercurial travelers. Flying through a dark rainy night, he knew not why he was on the train or where the train was bound. Investigating the room, he sought clues to why he was in his current circumstances as he sipped his coffee.”

The man grunted. "Quicksilver Express, a train for mercurial travelers, eh? Well, I guess 'mercurial' aptly described my life these days." How curious that the entry described his present circumstance. He flipped the page to find nothing on the next page. Flipping through to the end of the book, he found nothing more written. “Useless,” he grumbled as he slammed the book closed and tossed it back on the table. Instead of landing flat, however, the book hit at an angle, then landed open to a new page with writing.

“What the… there was nothing else in the book…” he mused as he picked the book up again.

“Searching the suitcase, he looked for clues amongst the belongings. Hidden in the neatly stacked articles of clothing were interesting personal effects.”

Looking up quickly from where he was sitting on the bed, he now saw a rolling suitcase on the other side of the table that he had not noticed previously. Had it really been there earlier? Or did it just appear all of a sudden like the new words in the book? Double-checking the book, he flipped through the pages once again to the end. There was no other writing in the book except for the two pages. “This is absolutely bizarre.”

Laying the book back down on the table, he rose to check out the rolling suitcase. “Interesting personal effects, eh?” Although his head was still throbbing, his curiosity was piqued compelling him to tackle perusing through the contents of the suitcase. Rolling it bedside, he wrangled it up on the bed and popped the locks. As the lid lifted he smelled the pleasant aroma of pipe tobacco. On top of the neatly folded clothing, he found a tobacco pouch and a very nice tobacco pipe with a bowl carved in a bulldog head.

As the man picked up the pipe, he had a flashback of an older man sitting in a rocking chair, with the pipe poised in the air as a small child on his lap was reaching for it. “Parker, my boy, I’ll give you this pipe one day, but I hope you never smoke it.”

The man flushed as he took in a deep whiff of the scent of tobacco making the memory of the vision more vivid. He turned the pipe over in his hand. This was his father’s pipe. As a child, he longed to have it and ached for the day it would pass to him. But he was much too young to realize what a devastating moment that would be when it was finally his. “I always thought it would become mine because you bought a new one. In a million years I would never have imagined it was because you died. Oh god, father, how I’ve missed you so.” His hands shook as he held the pipe letting the memories of time with his father wash over him. Fishing with him, riding horses, mending fences, gathering eggs, whittling, learning to whistle, hunting rabbits...Parker jolted back to the present.

The wind howled a little harder and the page turned in the book.

“A tobacco pipe with a bowl ornately carved with a bulldog head along with a pouch of tobacco lay on top of the neatly folded clothing in the suitcase. A possession that had passed to him at the tender age of twelve along with the unopened pack of tobacco his father had purchased the day before he died. Though the pipe was a cherished possession, and the smell of pipe tobacco soothing, Parker honored his father’s wish that he never smoke it. He held it from time to time and smelled the pouch of tobacco to summon memories of his time with his father. The loss of Parker’s father affected him deeply.”

These new words struck a chord deep inside Parker, like a pang of grief so long repressed that its quivering now was prying apart his soul. How could his father have done such a thing, hanging himself in the barn like that? But the family farm was everything to his father and losing it to the bank was more than he could handle. Parker could still hear the swinging sound of the rope and the clicking of his father's heels as they bumped the side of the hay wagon he had stepped off from. Parker had vowed he never wanted any child of his to hurt the way he had when his father died. Parker shuddered. As he came out of his reverie, he was confused. “Why is my father’s pipe in this suitcase?” Parker always kept it in his top dresser drawer with a few other special items.

As Parker set the pipe and tobacco on the window table, he now saw nestled amongst the clothing a very worn and torn leather long wallet with a tooled design and the letters PJ stamped on it. He recognized it instantly. It had been a gift from his wife for their first Christmas after they married. He had carried it until it was nearly falling apart. He laughed softly as he remembered her warm brown eyes watching him intently for his reaction when she gave him the package. He remembered being startled to see such a large wallet. It wasn’t what he would have chosen for himself. A folding wallet to carry in his back pocket would have been his preference. But she had told him, “it’s to go in your inside suit jacket pocket, silly. You’re going to be a very important man and you need a fancy wallet to carry all your money.” She was so earnest, and because she had it customized with his initials stamped on it, it wasn’t an option to return it even if he had dared to consider doing so. “I could never tell you no, Janie. You always knew me better than I knew myself. I carried this wallet until it nearly fell apart,” he muttered. He pried it open and saw the gold coin. His heart squeezed. Janie’s grandfather had given it to her as a graduation present. It was her most cherished possession. Attempting to protest the gift of money had nearly ruined the evening. “No, no, no, Parker Johnson! You WILL accept that money. You will never be broke as long as you have this.” He remembered his response, “Janie, as long as I have you, I will always be a rich man.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered that tender moment.

Another page in the book now appeared with writing.

“Parker held the long wallet and remembered the day it was given to him. How he hated it at the time but dearly loved the woman who gave it to him and most importantly, he loved who he was in her eyes. So, he carried it faithfully until it was too worn to be useful. He kept it long after it outlived its purpose. Tucked away inside his wife had gifted him her most treasured possession from her grandfather, a gold coin so he would never be broke. But his true wealth more valuable than any gifts has always been his beloved wife.”

Thinking about how much he loved his wife, he remembered the day she told him she was pregnant. How happy he had been. Looking at the suitcase again, Parker noticed a tiny red sock. Reaching for it, memories flooded him once again. He had awakened at 2:30 a.m. to his wife moaning in the bathroom. “Parker! Parker! It’s time. It’s time honey. He’s coming!” Jumping out of bed, Parker felt a rush of adrenaline that caused him to lose his stomach in his bedside trash bin. Wiping his mouth, he practically jumped into his trousers and shoved his feet into his boots, not bothering to tie the laces. He ran into the bathroom and helped Janie to the car. Making it to the hospital in record time, his son Travis had been born just two hours later. When they left the hospital with Travis to go home, he was wearing tiny red socks. Somehow, between hospital and home, one of the socks was lost, never to be found. Rather than allow the orphaned sock to be thrown away, Parker had squirreled it away with his other treasures as a forever keepsake of that day.

He remembered how rapidly Travis had grown. He walked early, talked early, learned to read early. His son was truly an incredible boy. Just last year, he had hit the homerun that won the baseball tournament. How had twelve years gone by so fast. So many memories of good times with Travis hunting and fishing, horseback riding – many of the same things he had done with his own father at the same age … before he died.

Again, writing appeared on a new page in the book.

"Parker lovingly remembered his son's birth. Being sentimental, he had taken the orphaned red baby sock as a keepsake and hidden away in the drawer with his father's pipe and tobacco. He reflected on how similar his relationship with his son was to his relationship with his own father."

Parker’s breath caught in his chest. Shoving the suitcase aside and plopping down on the bedside, Parker scouted the room. All the walls were smooth and unbroken except for the one with the window. Something about that seemed odd but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He felt weary and the thump thump, thump thump, thump thump, of the train rolling down the tracks lulled him into a stupor. He found himself slumped against the pillows and drifting off.

A shrill whistle of the train shrieked into the night. Parker startled awake with a gasp. He felt as though he had been hit in the chest although that was ridiculous because there was no one else in the room but himself. As he sat upright, he noticed a newspaper he had not seen before lay neatly folded in the top of the suitcase. Befuddled, he reached for it and read the headline, “Local Businessman Investigated on Contract Kickbacks.”

Heat rose in Parker’s cheeks. They had told him everything was above board, nothing illegal. All he had to do was award the contracts to certain companies and they would give him a bonus. Bonuses were not illegal. That’s what they said. But what they didn’t tell him was that while being technically not illegal, it didn’t mean it wasn’t punishable under federal and state law. How could he have been so naïve? He had spent over fifteen years accepting bonuses for awarding contracts. He had risen high and fast in his career. He owned a house worth half a million dollars. Expensive cars for himself and his wife. They had a lake home. They took fancy family vacations every year. His son went to expensive baseball camps. But now it was all over. All his assets had been seized, he was dismissed from his job. Worst of all, he was facing 25 to 30 years in prison if found guilty of the multiple counts against him. He couldn’t show his face anywhere without stares and whispers greeting him. Janie had believed in him. But now that spark of love in her eyes was no longer there. It had been replaced with sorrow and anger. Parker labored to breathe.

He remembered being at his brother-in-law’s home where they had been staying after losing their home. Janie’s words still rang in his ears, “Parker, I’ve filed for divorce and Travis and I are moving to Vermont to stay with my mother. You’re going away for a long time. He - we don’t deserve all the publicity and shame raining down on us because of your illegal actions. I have to think of Travis and what’s best for him.” Those words had wounded him in ways he hadn’t fathomed possible. Parker remembered watching Janie and Travis getting into his brother-in-law’s car and heading off to the airport. Parker had stood on the porch with tears streaming and mouth agape. His mind reeling, he had walked down the steps and away from the house. He found himself at the top of the bluff by the railroad tracks. Trembling, he stood there with the chill wind blowing his hair, his mind still too numb to fully process his present circumstances. Just when he thought there could be nothing worse to befall him, he had lost his wife Janie and his son Travis. They were so ashamed of him and wanted to escape him. What was the point of life without them? He could handle losing everything else, but not them. The train whistle sounded in the distance and Parker saw it racing down the tracks toward him. He backed up on the bluff and positioned himself leaning slightly forward in a runner’s stance. It was a cool day but sweat popped out on his forehead as he watched the train approach. Just as it was almost even with him, Parker ran fast and hard and leaped off the bluff out in front of the train. He arched high and overshot the tracks so that instead of the full frontal hit Parker anticipated, the train clipped him on his right shoulder and threw him headlong down the far embankment. He remembered crashing through branches and brambles, a sharp pain in his right knee as his leg jutted out at an odd angle. Slamming up against a tree at the bottom of the ravine, his tumbling came to a halt. Hurting all over, darkness quickly overtook him and he knew nothing….Until now.

Pages in the book fluttered.

“Already reeling with the consequences of his improper business practices, Parker thought life could not possibly get any worse. But he was wrong. His wife made the devastating announcement that she was taking their son and leaving him to avoid the shame of his deeds. As his wife and son headed to the airport, Parker walked mindlessly until he found himself on a bluff above the railroad tracks. As Parker watched the train approach, he made the spontaneous decision to leap from the bluff and let the train erase his pain.”

Parker sat breathing heavily with his mind going in and out of focus. His whole life he had lost everything and everyone he had ever cared for. But, how could he have done that to himself? To Janie and to Travis? That had been his answer to his problems? To throw himself in front of a train? But why was he on a train now?

Breathing hard, Parker glanced around the room. Now there were two doors on the wall across from the bed. He knew with certainty that neither door had been there before. He felt as though he needed to choose one. Cautiously he stood in front of each door, one showing light underneath, the other showing only darkness. Where did these doors go?

Flooded with indecision Parker struggled with which of the doors to open. His indecision faded when he heard a faint noise coming from behind one of the doors. Placing his ear against it to hear better, he distinctly heard a whisper through the door as though directly in his ear, “Parker, I love you.” His decision was made. He grasped the handle and opened that door.

******************************

Janie sat resolutely by the hospital bedside as she had for the past three days. She had thought he was lost on the first day when he went into cardiac arrest. It was beyond her that his chest hadn't collapsed during the resuscitation as they slammed his chest with the paddles time and again. Parker had been stable ever since but remained in a coma. Stroking his hand, she whispered in his ear, “Parker, I love you.”

As Janie's whisper faded away, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor fluctuated sporadically. Janie noticed Parker’s eyes fluttering wildly. “Oh, honey, no, no, no. Don’t do this. Please come back to me. Parker, stay with me.”

Parker’s eyes fluttered open and he was welcomed by the sight of Janie’s joyful smile. "I love you too, Janie."

******************************

On the window table in the train car, the book fluttered and a new page of writing appeared.

“Having sorted his dilemma of whether to live or let go, Parker exited the Quicksilver Express through the door that returned him to his life.”

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