The Christmas Train by David Baldacci
A frantic-looking older woman ran up to Roxanne waving her ticket. “Oh my God, I don’t know where I’m going.”
“Well, honey, tell me where it is you want to go, and then we’ll work from there.”
“Denver,” said the woman.
“Denver, okay, you need to be on the Zephyr, not the Chief. The Chief goes to LA and not by way of Denver. I’m surprised they let you on here.”
“I think I stepped on the wrong train.”
“Well, the Zephyr does leave out of Chicago too.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. My daughter and her family are expecting me for Christmas. She told me she’d fly out and ride back with me. I don’t like to fly and my husband has passed on. She said my faculties weren’t sharp enough to travel by myself, and maybe she’s right.”
“Hey, you had enough ‘faculties’ to come ask for help, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but when I don’t show up in Denver, she’ll know. Then all Christmas she and her husband will be saying ‘We told you so.’ ”
“Who said you’re not getting to Denver in time for Christmas?” asked Roxanne.
“But I’m on the wrong train.”
“For now you are, but see, we’re going to get you on the right train.”
“I don’t understand. How can you do that? You said this train is going to Los Angeles.”
“At Kansas City, we’ll get you on a short connecting service to Omaha. The Zephyr stops in Omaha, and you’ll be there in plenty of time to get on and sail right to Denver. Not a problem at all. I’ll make all the arrangements and come get you when we get to KC tonight.”
The woman couldn’t stop thanking Roxanne for all her help. After she had left, Roxanne said, “People come in here all the time, hot, bothered, worried about everything in the world. You got to read their body cues, solve their problems, get them interested in the trip, make ’em part of the process. You got kids and parents traveling together, you talk to the kids, not to the kids through the parents. The little ones appreciate that, makes ’em feel big and important, and then they listen to you. You bite off a little bit at a time, and some passengers you never really get through to, but most you do. It takes time, but either you work the job or the job works you. That’s what I tell my daughter all the time, beat that into her head.”
“You’ve done a great job with Regina, she’s wonderful.”
“Yep, she’s special, all right. Momma’s proud of her.”
“You sound like a psychologist.”
“Unofficially I am. And I got no end of patients.”
“You sure you’re not an angel dropped from Heaven onto the Southwest Chief? You sound almost too good to be true, and I mean that with mountains of respect.”
“Well, honey, I’m a sixty-three-year-old fat woman with sore feet, high blood pressure, and the beginnings of diabetes. I know I don’t have all that much time left, and I can either spend it moping and complaining about the things I never got to in life, or I can do something I love and help people along the way. I decided to keep plugging ’til I drop.”
They stopped at one seat and Roxanne put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me, what we got here, shug?”
The young man, about twenty-five, was reclining in his seat without any clothes on. Luckily, the space next to him was unoccupied, the car was darkened for sleeping, and no one else had noticed, at least not yet.
“Hey, it’s cool,” said the young man.
“I bet you’re cool, you ain’t got no pants or a stitch of nothing else on.”
“Well, I’m from Arizona, this is how everybody sleeps in Arizona.”
Roxanne said, “Is that right?” Eleanor had averted her gaze, but Roxanne sat right next to the man. “Now let me get something straight with you, slick. We’re not in Arizona, we’re in Missouri, and while I know they call Missouri the Show Me State, you don’t have nothing I haven’t seen before, so I don’t need no showing of it. Now, if you don’t get all your clothes on right now, you’re getting off this train before we get to Kansas City.”
The young man chuckled. “I gotcha there. La Plata was the last stop, and there’s not another one until KC.”
“That’s right, there’s not, is there?” Roxanne stared at him pointedly until it started to dawn on the guy.
“You wouldn’t put me off in the middle of nowhere? You can’t do that,” he sputtered.
“I wouldn’t call the middle of Missouri the middle of nowhere, would you, Eleanor?”
Eleanor shook her head. “No.”
Roxanne continued, “I mean, folks live there. So it has to be somewhere. I know that the farms are quite a ways apart, and it’s December and cold as I don’t know what, but it’s not nowhere. In fact, the place we’ll let you off, all you got to do is walk about thirty miles, southwest I believe — or maybe it’s northeast — and there’s a motel or something like that if memory serves me correctly, though they might have torn it down, it was very old.”
“Thirty miles! I’ll freeze.”
“Well, not if you have your pants on. And be optimistic about life. I don’t tolerate whiners. You’re young, strong, you can probably make it.”
The man’s eyes bulged. “Probably?”
Roxanne pulled out her walkie-talkie. She didn’t depress the button, something Eleanor noticed but the young man didn’t.
“Service boss to the conductor and engineer. We got us a red alert, situation one-four-two, repeat one-four-two. We’ll need to stop and discharge a passenger. Over.”
“Wait!” said the panicked man. “What’s a one-four-two?”
“Oh, honey, that’s just train talk for an uncooperative passenger. On big fancy planes, they just tie you up and sit on you, because they can’t open their doors six miles up.” She smiled sweetly. “But we don’t have that problem on a train, now do we, shug? See, on Amtrak we just kick your little disruptive butt off wherever we want. Now, we do provide a flashlight and a compass to help guide you once you’ve been discharged. That’s official Amtrak policy, and a good one I think.” She looked out the window. “Mercy, the snow’s picked up again, looks like a regular blizzard.” She spoke into her walkie-talkie. “Service boss here again. On that one-four-two, bring a shovel and a first-aid kit with frostbite applications for the discharged passenger. Over.”
“I’m dressing, I’m putting my clothes on,” yelled the young man, ostensibly loud enough for the person on the other end of the walkie-talkie to hear. “You can cancel the one-four-two thing.”
Roxanne looked at him solemnly and slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid once it’s been ordered, we really can’t take it back. And it’s a long trip and for all I know you might try this nonsense again and somebody might see you, like a little kid or an elderly passenger, and get really upset.”
“I swear to you,” said the young man as he frantically dressed, “I will not take any of my clothes off. I will sleep in my clothes. I promise.”
“I don’t know. You feel that? The train’s already slowing down, and the engineer might get mad if I tell him it’s a no-go. You know how much it costs to make an unscheduled stop on a train this big?”
“Please, please. I promise. No more nudity.”
Roxanne sighed heavily and then said into her walkie-talkie, “Okay, service boss here again, let’s cancel that, repeat, cancel the one-four-two.” She stared at the young man, her expression that of a woman in complete control. “Now look here, baby, I see one inch of something of you I shouldn’t, then you going off this train. I don’t care where we are, middle of the desert or highest mountain. No more reprieves, we understand each other?”
He nodded meekly and then pulled the blanket over his head.
“Night-night, Arizona,” said Roxanne as she and Eleanor walked off.
The two women went down to the lower level, where Roxanne inspected the choir’s bathing operation. Satisfied with the progress, she and Eleanor headed to the lower lounge area and sat at an empty table.
“Boys’ choir, antidemon dust, and a naked man from Arizona. You’ve had a busy night.”
“Oh, honey, this was actually pretty tame. The things I could tell you.”
“I wish you would.”
“Well, maybe we can spend some time together off the train.”
Eleanor was beginning to think that she could get Max to make Roxanne a paid consultant on the film project when the train started to slow down noticeably.
“Is there a problem?” asked Eleanor.
“No, this stretch of track has speed restrictions and a few gate crossings. Come with me. I’ll show you a nice little benefit to train travel that you positively can’t enjoy on a plane.”
Roxanne led Eleanor down to one of the train’s vestibules, where she opened the upper window of the train door, allowing in a burst of refreshingly cold air.
“God, that feels wonderful,” said Eleanor.
“I come down here a few times each day, just to clear my head, smell the air, get a close look at this land without an inch of glass or nothing else in the way.” They watched the countryside pass by for a bit, and then Roxanne closed the window as the Chief picked up speed. “I got Regina to do this a couple times a trip too. Gives you some peace, recharge your batteries.”
“How many kids do you have besides Regina?”
“Nine, all grown of course. And twenty-three grandchildren.”
She shook her head. “You don’t look nearly old enough.”
“Well, I started really early, maybe too early.”
Roxanne shot Eleanor a glance. “You have any kids?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Never even been married.”
“Now, you want to tell me how a beautiful, smart, successful sort like yourself never landed a good man who loved her?”
“Maybe I’m really not that beautiful, smart or successful.”
“Baby, take one look in the mirror. And I doubt you’d be working with a man like Max Powers if you weren’t pretty well endowed in the brain and talent department.”
“Well, it happens, you know, people do end up alone. All sorts of people.”
“Yes, it does, and there’s always a reason for it too. Care to tell me yours?”
Eleanor looked away and fiddled with her fingers while Roxanne studied her closely. “Wait a minute, let me see if I can guess. You found you a good man who loved you, only it didn’t work out, maybe he never asked that all-important question that a woman desperately wants to answer yes to, and you finally went your separate ways.” She added quietly, “Until you saw him again on this train.”
Eleanor glanced at her sharply, a suspicious look on her face.
“The way you and Tom Langdon act around each other it’s pretty clear. Plus the train gossip grapevine is alive and well on the old Chief.”
Eleanor’s face flushed. “Well, my goodness, if I’d only known how transparent I was. I can’t tell you what a relief it is that so many people I don’t even know are aware of my romantic history — or should I say fiasco.”
“I’m not looking to pry, Eleanor, but I am a good listener.”
Eleanor finally took a deep breath and looked across at Roxanne. “Tom Langdon is a wanderer, always has been, always will be. He craves adventure, he craves change like other people need food. He’s the sort who couldn’t make a commitment if his life depended on it. And, no, he never asked me to marry him.”
“But I understand you haven’t seen him in years. Maybe he’s changed.”
Eleanor shook her head. “Men like him don’t change. He’s back in the States traveling around and writing fluff instead of covering wars overseas, but that won’t last. Six months from now he’ll be off doing something else. I lived with him for years. I know how he thinks.” She paused and added, “And he has a girlfriend. He’s going to see her in LA.”
“You think he’s made a commitment to her?”
“I doubt it.”
“You mean you hope not.”
Eleanor just looked away.
Roxanne said, “Let your heart be your guide, girl. If you truly love him, I say give him another chance. It may be your only chance for happiness.”
“What if feelings have changed over time? What if you’re not the same person you once were?”
“Eleanor, love is like a good piece of wood: It just gets stronger and stronger as the years go by. Take it from someone who had it and only lost it when the Lord decided it was time I shared Junior with Him. It sounds corny, I know, but it’s really the only thing that works between two people. The only thing.”
chapter twenty-two
Kansas City was a major stop where many people got on and off and the train lingered awhile as it refueled and restocked. Roxanne escorted the woman heading to Denver by way of the California Zephyr to where she needed to go. Tom took the opportunity to step out for some fresh air before the bachelor party started. Recalling what Herrick Higgins had said, Tom watched as more pieces of America climbed aboard the train, no doubt flush with stories to tell, experiences to exchange, perhaps friendships, however short-lived, to form.
The snow was falling hard, and he sought shelter under one of the overhangs.
He glanced over in surprise as Eleanor climbed off the train and headed toward him.
“Little stuffy on the train,” she explained.
“Yeah, me too.”
They both stood there awkwardly, until she said, “I can’t tell you what a shock it’s been seeing you.”
“I thought a million times about contacting you over the years. But I never did. Call it pride, stubbornness, stupidity. Take your pick, they’re all there.”
“Well, I guess with the way things ended I can’t blame you.”
He drew closer. “Do you believe in second chances?”
She pulled back a bit. “Tom, I can’t take that hurt again. I can’t.”
“You left me, remember?”
“After all those years of being together, it was time to put up or shut up,” she said bluntly. “I needed a commitment, and I didn’t get it. I assumed your career took priority over everything else.”
“People can change, Ellie.”
“So I’ve heard. Do you really think writing about antique furniture will last? And you have a girlfriend you’re going to see for Christmas. Are you ready to commit to her?”
“It’s not that sort of relationship.”
“Of course not, you’re not that sort of man.” She shook her head and looked away.
Tom gripped her shoulder and turned her toward him. “It’s not that sort of relationship because I don’t love her. There’s only one woman I’ve ever loved, Ellie, you know that.”
“Tom, don’t do this to me, please.”
“So why did you come out here? It’s freezing.”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe that. I think you know exactly why.”
“Maybe I do.”
“Nothing in my life has been as good as what we had. Nothing! I’ve been searching all these years for something.”
“I’ve been looking too,” she said, “and not finding it.”
“It can’t be just a coincidence that we’re both on this train. It’s an omen, don’t you see? It was meant to be.”
“You sound like Misty. Love doesn’t work that way. It’s not some magic fairy dust. It’s something you work at every day.”
As she flicked a strand of hair out of her face and the full force of those emerald eyes fell on him, it might as well have been ten years prior or a decade hence, it didn’t really matter to Tom. In the wash of lamplight, the woman’s gaze was as hypnotic and intoxicating a thing as Tom had ever experienced. He thought he was taking a step back, but he actually moved closer to her. He watched his hand slide another errant strand of auburn hair out of her face. Then his fingers moved to her cheek and gently rubbed it. She didn’t move to stop him.
“Well, maybe it’s time I started to work at it.”
He took a deep breath, glanced up for a second, and his lips