The Christmas Train by David Baldacci
expectantly.
“Here we go,” he said. Using the blanket, he was able to corral the critter and put it in the chest, but not without it almost getting away. Actually, it had made a beeline for Kristobal. The young man screamed so loudly it was now likely every citizen of Pennsylvania was fully awake.
“What is it?” said Eleanor, who hadn’t gotten a good look at it.
“A boa constrictor, a young one, about four or five feet long. Beautiful markings.”
Eleanor said, “I have several friends in LA who have them as pets.”
Kristobal just stared at her blankly. “This is a nightmare. All I wanted was my sunglasses and my same salary, and instead I’m almost killed by — by that thing!”
Eleanor smiled. “Kristobal, you love animals. You have a pet too.”
“A Jack Russell terrier, Eleanor. Don’t you dare compare my little Hemingway to that . . . to that serpent from Hell.”
Eleanor said, “That’s got to be somebody’s pet. It’s not like boa constrictors are indigenous to Pennsylvania.”
Tom agreed. “Probably got out of its cage and was scared to death.”
Regina said, “I guess I’ll take charge of it and find out whose it is. Can’t be too many people on board with a snake. At least I hope not.” She didn’t look too happy about taking the boa, thought Tom, and then he had a sudden brainstorm to rival anything Max Powers could come up with.
“I tell you what, Regina, let me hold on to him for a bit while you check to see whose it is.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“There’s a special friend on board I’d like to show it to.”
“Well, okay, but just don’t let him loose.”
Tom looked over at Kristobal. “You can come down now.” The man gingerly crept off the table. “You said you were looking for your sunglasses,” said Tom. Kristobal nodded. “Well, my pen is missing, and so is Father Kelly’s cross.”
“My silver brush has disappeared too,” said Eleanor.
“And Mr. Powers said his gold-plated money clip is gone too,” added Kristobal.
“And remember that creep Merryweather is missing some stuff,” added Tom. “I think we do have a thief on board.”
Regina rubbed her forehead. “Why me, Lord, why me?” She wrapped her robe around her more closely and said, “Okay, I’ll file a report with the Amtrak police when we get into Chicago. They’ll probably need to talk to you, get your statement too. I’m sorry. This is pretty rare, I have to tell you. Most people leave valuables out all the time with no problem. I’m really sorry.”
She wearily trudged off, and Eleanor said, “What are you going to do with the boa?”
Tom smiled. “I told you, show it to a special friend.”
“Who?”
“You’ll see. Come on, Kristobal, we’ll need you.”
“Look, I’m not getting in trouble over some snake. I never wanted to take the train in the first place. I mean, Mr. Powers has his own jet, for God’s sake.”
Tom said, “Just do what I say and it’ll be fine.”
A few minutes later, outside Gordon Merryweather’s compartment, someone peered in and saw that the lawyer was lying in the dark solely in his underwear, his brief of choice being the blue bikini style. The man hadn’t bothered to lock his door.
Kristobal and Tom crept forward on their knees and placed the ice chest on its side. Tom had explained all about Merryweather to Kristobal, and he’d reluctantly agreed to help. Tom slowly opened the door and lifted the top off the chest. Both men heaved, and the boa went slithering into the compartment. Tom reached in, hit the switch by the sink, filling the room with bright light, and then slid the door closed.
Kristobal had already fled before Merryweather screamed. Eleanor and Tom raced the other way and hid around the corner. They heard frantic banging on the door, and then it flew open and Gordon Merryweather ran out. He fell, picked himself up, fell again, and then half-rolled and half-crawled down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, Tom coaxed the snake back into the chest quite easily and passed it off to Kristobal. The poor reptile seemed traumatized by the sight of the paunchy lawyer in his indigo-blue skivvies.
Next, Tom and Eleanor raced off and caught up with the frantic Merryweather. When he turned, Eleanor let out a loud scream and covered her eyes. “That’s him.”
“There’s a thing, a snake, enormous in my room,” yelled Merryweather. He grabbed Tom’s sleeve. “I’ll show you. It’s — it’s terrible. It almost killed me.”
“A snake, on the train?” said Tom skeptically.
Regina came running up. “Now what’s going on?”
Tom said, “This guy claims there’s a snake in his room. That it almost attacked him.” Out of Merryweather’s line of sight, he gave her a wink. Regina caught the meaning immediately.
Eleanor said, “I saw this man running by half-naked. I think he looked in on me. I got this gentleman to come with me to see if we could catch him.”
“What?” said Regina. “You mean, like a Peeping Tom?”
“Yes. It was terrifying. I thought he was completely naked.” Eleanor groaned and shuddered with the aplomb of a trained actress.
“So that’s what the other passengers have been complaining about,” said Regina. She turned to the stricken lawyer. “Just what in God’s name do you think you’re doing? You think because you’re some big-shot you can run around nearly naked and peep in on women and scare them? Do you? Well if you do, let me tell you, you don’t want to mess around with Amtrak. And when we get to Chicago, you’re going to find out why not.”
Merryweather sputtered, “I . . . I . . .”
Tom pulled out a notepad and pen. “Is that Merryweather just like it sounds? And can I get the exact name of your law firm?”
“There was a snake in my room,” wailed Merryweather. “I’m no streaker. I’m not a pervert.”
“Streaker and pervert, those were exactly the words I was looking for,” said Tom as he wrote furiously.
“I’ll show you, I’ll show you.” Merryweather pulled them down the hallway to his compartment — as it turned out, his completely empty compartment.
Merryweather yelled, “It was here, I swear. At least I think it was.”
“Were you sleeping?” asked Eleanor.
“Well, yes, and then the light woke me up.”
“Maybe you left the light on, fell asleep, and you just dreamed about a snake. Did you ever think of that?” said Eleanor.
Merryweather looked at her with an expression that said, no, he hadn’t really thought of that.
Regina said, “You’ve disrupted this whole train. I’m calling the conductor. He’ll probably want to turn you over to the police in Pittsburgh.”
“No, no!” screamed Merryweather. “That will ruin my reputation, my law practice.”
“You should have thought about that before you started running around scaring people with those skinny marshmallow legs,” said Tom.
“Please, please, I’ll do anything. Anything.”
Regina, Eleanor, and Tom looked at each other.
“Well, it is Christmas,” said Tom, after a lengthy silence broken only by the whimpering litigation virtuoso.
Regina tapped her foot and, giving Merryweather a look of immense disgust, pointed her finger in his face. “Okay, fine, it’s late and I’m tired. But let me tell you one thing, lawyer man, if I ever have one more moment’s trouble with you ever, your butt is in the fire, you understand me? This all comes out, you got it?”
“Absolutely, absolutely.” He looked pitifully at Tom and his notepad.
Tom very slowly put it back in his pocket. “Okay, but just because it is Christmas. But remember, I can write this story at any time, and I’ve got witnesses. Okay?”
“Yes, yes, I understand. Okay.”
Regina snapped, “Now get some clothes on.”
Merryweather raced inside his compartment and slid the door shut.
“Hey,” said Tom, “all you need is a boa constrictor, some accomplices, and a twelve-million-pound train, mix, and bake.”
A bit later Regina located the owners of the snake and returned it, with instructions to keep it under wraps for the rest of the trip and to say nothing about its presence on the train.
As Tom and Eleanor walked back to their compartments, he chuckled. “That felt like old times. Remember all the practical jokes we pulled when we were overseas and things were slow and we were bored?”
“No, I remember all the practical jokes you played. And I don’t remember being bored very much. Overstimulated was more like it.”
He stopped and so did Eleanor. “Come on, you have to admit, it was great, wasn’t it?”
“It was different,” was as far as Eleanor would go.
He said hesitantly, “You know, I’m taking this trip not just for my dad, but to sort of find out where I’m supposed to be going with my life.”
“Let me guess: You’re leaning more toward Yemen than Duncan Phyfe.”
“I guess it’s in some people’s blood to roam. I could never be happy looking at the same four walls all the time.”
“Or the same person inside those four walls.”
“Look, are you telling me you didn’t have the time of your life doing what we did?”
“It was fine, for a while. Then it wasn’t fine anymore.”
“Fine! I can count on one hand the number of people who’ve gotten to do and see what we did. Look at the stories you have to tell your kids and grandkids.”
“I don’t have either.”
“If it was so damn bad, why’d you stick it out for so long?”
“You know what they say, love makes you do crazy things.”
“I still don’t know what went wrong. It’s not like I suddenly changed.”
“No, Tom, you never changed. I guess I did. Goodnight.”
“Ellie . . .”
She turned back. “It’s Eleanor now, Eleanor. That changed too.”
Tom went back to the lounge car and sat miserably watching the country drift by. The Cap picked up water in Pittsburgh, but Tom didn’t call Lelia because while he could deal with snakes and pompous lawyers, he wasn’t brave enough to deal with the voice of Cuppy the Magic Beaver when she felt wronged. He tried not to think about Eleanor, so of course, that was all he thought about. The Cap had made up some time, but it was still over two hours late. Tom finally fell asleep from exhaustion.
At five-thirty in the morning, the PA came on, and Tyrone’s voice greeted him. “Good morning to you, good morning to you, there’s so much to do, good morning to you. Thankyou, thankyouverymuch.” And then he announced that the train was officially late, but that breakfast was hot and on time and came with a medley of Elvis holiday favorites at no extra charge.
Tom used the larger shower facilities on the lower level, having to wait behind another passenger. The man left his watch in the changing room, but Tom saw it and returned it before the man had gone far. In the dining car he had breakfast with Father Kelly, who was in good spirits despite the loss of his cross. He did lower his voice and asked Tom if he had by chance seen a naked, hysterical man on the train. Tom disclaimed any knowledge of that odd event and gently suggested the priest needed to get more rest.
They watched daylight come as they pulled into Toledo, where the train took on more water. Later, in the vast fields of northern Indiana, Tom watched from the lounge car as a horse and sleigh carried a family through the falling snow. It was as picturesque as any holiday card he’d ever seen, and it reminded him of a very special day he and Eleanor had shared years before.
They’d skied many of the most challenging slopes of Europe. In Austria, though, they’d taken a break from hurtling down mountains and, instead, had hired a sleigh and driver and taken a wonderful, all-day journey over the most pristine snow-covered land either of them had ever seen. They’d eaten lunch by a cheery fire at an honest-to-goodness castle, then ridden back under a full moon. It was a day never to be forgotten, or perhaps equaled. Or repeated. Clearly, he wouldn’t be taking any more sleigh rides with the woman.
The Cap finally arrived in Chicago at eleven-thirty in the morning Central time, after serving passengers an extra meal for being late. The train uncoupled its mail and express cars, then slowly backed into the station. Tom came down with his bags, thanked Regina, and gave her a generous tip.
“I believe I should be paying you,” she said, and they shared a hug. “I’ll introduce you to my mom in the station lounge later, before the Chief heads out.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her if she’s anything like you.”
Tom saw Herrick Higgins getting off farther down. He pointed him out to Regina. “He’s a really interesting guy. Too bad he had to retire. He really loves trains.”
Regina said, “Herrick didn’t retire, he was laid off. Budget cuts, him and two hundred other managers. It’s a shame. That man knows more about trains than anybody. He rides the train at his own expense. If we have room, we let him bunk in the dormitory car with us. It’s sad, real sad.”
Tom saw Max and Kristobal up ahead, and he joined them.
“Heard you had an interesting evening,” said Max.
“Not quite the word I’d use,” said Kristobal.
“Where’s Eleanor?” asked Tom.
“Already inside.” Max looked upset. “I think she’s trying to get a flight to LA. I’m not really happy about that. Can’t you talk to her, Tom?”
Tom laughed. “If you really want her to take a plane, I’ll talk to her, sure. Otherwise I think I should just stay out of it.”
With the snow coming down ever harder, they headed toward the warmth of bustling Union Station in Chicago, their ride on the legendary Capitol Limited completed. What lay ahead were the Southwest Chief and a journey of almost twenty-three hundred more miles — almost three times the distance they’d just ridden — together with twenty-six train stops. Curiously, though, Tom felt ready for anything. As it would turn out, he’d need to be.
chapter eighteen
Chicago’s Union Station symbolized the prodigious dimensions of the city it inhabited: It was big and brawny, with multiple levels, car-rental counters, food and other retail outlets, and long golf carts whizzing passengers around. They headed to the Metropolitan Lounge, found an empty area, and spread out. Tom sat comatose while Kristobal made numerous phone calls, and Max met with Steve and Julie and various other people in the lounge going over last-minute arrangements for the wedding. Eleanor wasn’t there, and Max finally sent Kristobal looking for her.
Amtrak police came, led by Regina, and they all filed their theft reports. They were told that many passengers had discovered items missing and that a search for the thief or thieves was ongoing. The police thought it likely that more than one person was involved because of the number of items taken and the passengers targeted. In all probability, they were informed, the gang had gotten off the train before Chicago. Tom held out little hope that he’d ever see his pen again. Much more significantly, he held out little hope of seeing Eleanor again.
He was therefore very surprised to see her walk into the lounge with Kristobal about an hour later. She slumped next to Max.
“When’s your flight leave?” he asked.
“It doesn’t. Everything’s booked solid. Ironically, the fastest way to LA right now is by train.”
Max sat back and rested his eyes, although his lips almost twitched into a smile. “Sorry to hear that. Guess you’ll just have to slum it with us rail bums.” He opened his eyes and winked at Tom.
“Looks that way,” said a scowling Eleanor.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been banned from flyi
“No,” said Eleanor, “that really doesn’t make me feel any better.”
Regina returned a few minutes later. Tom knew the woman she came back with had to be her mother, although the two didn’t look a thing alike, except in the eyes. If it was possible, the woman made Agnes Joe look girlishly petite. Tom had visions of Aretha Franklin, only bigger. As it turned out, the wattage of the woman’s personality was far greater than even her vast physical dimensions.
“This is my mother, Roxanne,” said Regina, before Roxanne took