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The Train
by Diane Davis Send email to author
The year was 1968 and Phil had planned a long week-end for us. He was a 1st Lieutenant and stationed just outside Richmond, Virginia and I was the girl he had been trying to marry since we were in our teens. He always financed my trips to see him. I never had any money to spare, and at this particular time, he didn’t have much to spare either. He had been sending me plane tickets when he could, and that was a nice quick way for me to get to Virginia, but very expensive for him. It wasn’t a bad drive, only a couple of states away. I had driven to see him many times, but he didn’t like me on the road alone, so the mode of transportation this time was the train.
I drove to the train station, left my car and boarded the Silver Meteor. I had not ridden a train since I was a child and this was a new experience. I loved new traveling experiences though and this looked like it was going to be fun. It was an eight hour trip and I settled in with a book, but got antsy really fast. I decided to move about the train and thought I would go to the bar. After all, I was a big girl now, drinking age and all. Never had I ordered a drink for myself before, but hey..............Debra was a big girl. The only drink I could think of to order was a Whiskey Sour. There were a lot of military personnel on the train and I was getting some attention I didn’t want. I wore a pearl ring that Phil had given me on my 16th birthday, and when I traveled, I always turned my ring around so it would look like a wedding band. I may have been considered flirty, at times, but when I was with Phil or going to see Phil……flirting was off limits and the wedding band usually worked pretty well. I finished my drink, went back to my seat, buried my head in my boring book and hoped nobody else would try to talk to me.
The train arrived in Richmond around 2:00 am. It slowly pulled to a stop and I got off with my two pieces of blue American Tourister luggage and saw……..….absolutely no one!! It was very dark and the other passengers dispersed quickly. The train began to pull away. I don’t think I had ever felt quite so alone. All I could see was a small light bulb hanging from the ceiling quite a way up the track. I picked up my luggage and started to walk in that direction. Phil and I had not been on the best of terms lately and this was suppose to be a “make-up” week-end. He had been pissed at me for weeks and as hard as I tried…………..one single thought kept running through my head. Is this pay back?? Is he going to be here?? What if he decided not to come?? What will I do?? I don’t even think I have enough money for a cab, and if I did…….where would I go? Panic and paranoia set in at the same time that a slim figure stepped out of the dark and started walking toward me. I recognized the walk immediately. He was here. It wasn’t pay back after all. It was Phil whistling “The High and The Mighty”. It was the theme song from an old John Wayne movie and the only thing I ever heard him whistle, and he only whistled it when he was happy. He was here and I was safe. I put down my luggage and hugged him. He greeted me back and said he was glad to see me. I told him I didn’t think he was going to come. He said, “I would never do that to you”. He picked up the two pieces of luggage and we walked to his car. He had a place for us to stay nearby and we went straight there. We talked a little and cuddled a little before going to sleep. We were both exhausted. The train ride had been long and his job as an Air Force air traffic controller had been particularly taxing for him that day.
It felt good waking up with him the next morning. We lay in the bed and talked for awhile. I felt better after we talked and he did too. He always thought you had to have a plan and referred to the lack of one as P5 which was military terms for……..……..piss poor planning prevents progress. He was a wonderful planner and had planned fun things for us to do that day. We drove around Richmond and he showed me where we were going for dinner that night. We took a tour of the capital and grounds and did some of the historic stuff, which he knew I loved. The restaurant he had chosen was a beautiful little Italian restaurant. It was quaint and romantic, and the food was superb.
Phil had been talking about a movie he had seen and wanted me to see it too. The movie was 2001 Space Odyssey and we stood in line forever to get in. The closer we got to the ticket booth, the more we realized that all those people were never going to get into that one movie theater. We decided to see it another time and went to a nearby club for drinks and dancing. We slow danced to Sleep Walk and something by the Righteous Brothers and shagged to My Girl and Miss Grace. Neither of us were really big drinkers, but he ordered a couple of beers and I had a mixed drink…..a Whiskey Sour, no doubt. There was a popular dance that everyone was doing and he wanted to dance. I loved to dance and we danced well together, but I had not learned how to do this new dance. He said he would show me the steps and he knew I would catch on fast. Bells and whistles began to go off as I realized that he obviously had been dancing with someone else in order to know how to do this new dance. Green-eyed jealousy reared its ugly head and I was immediately ready to leave. He thought it was funny as I stomped out of the club……..not really making a scene to anyone but him. I didn’t show jealousy very often, but when I did, it was a great pump to his ego and he was enjoying every minute of this little display. The drive back to the motel was “icy” as I sat in silence. My silences never lasted very long though and 30 minutes later my pouting was over.
I put on a short night gown and we got into bed. We watched some TV, giggled and laughed a little and held each other until we went to sleep. It was a good night. It was a wonderful week-end. Phil and I were our absolute best when it was just the two of us. Oh, we had lots of friends and did lots of things in groups; but we were our best when it was just Phil and Debra. When I think back over the many week-ends, the get-a-ways, the trips, the alone times………….I can’t ever remember a time when I was ready to leave him……………….and this time was no different. There was a connection between us that was extraordinary. I loved the way I felt when I was with Phil. There was a comfort there that I can’t describe. I trusted him to always do what was best, not just for himself, but for me too. I knew I was the most important person in his life and that is an awesome feeling. There was a similarity between us that was almost uncanny. It was like being by yourself, and at the same time, not being alone. This week-end was another time when I hated to leave him. This week-end was another time when I should have stayed.
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