Chapter 61: The Rowena

It was around 10:00 PM when the motor coach delivered us to the Rio Grande Railroad switchyard near West 48^th Avenue and Huron Street, in Denver. David and Beth were standing at the curb, waiting for us.

David is the head of the small security force that Catherine employs. Beth and Peter both work for David. After greeting Catherine, Nicky, and the others, they helped the driver offload our bags. Then, after grabbing our bags, Beth led us through the busy freight terminal, out a door on the end, across a small stretch of rail yard and through a gate in a tall privacy fence.

We mounted the steps to a long, covered, concrete platform. There, next to the platform was a three-car ‘consist’ or set of railcars. The first two cars looked fairly modern, with their sleek lines looking freshly washed. They resembled what would soon become known as Amtrak railcars. (Amtrak was established a little over a month ago, on May 1, 1971).

I noticed that the middle car had a see-through dome running nearly the full length of the car.

But it was the last car in the consist that caught my eye. It looked much older than the other two cars, favoring, in appearance, observation cars of the pre-World War II era. It was even painted in the traditional Pullman green. However, it had the name ‘Rowena’ etched in gold paint on the side of the car, where the Pullman name usually appeared.

Catherine and Liz stopped on the platform, watching us, as we beheld the train for the first time. The slight drizzle that was falling, combined with the soft glow of the platform lights, bathed the railcars in a luminescent mixture of light and shadows. It was, as if we had entered the set of an old 1940’s era black and white movie. I looked around, half expecting to see Humphrey Bogart, kissing the girl goodbye.

Then Liz started speaking.

“In 1948, Harry Truman is said to have logged more than 28,000 miles in The Ferdinand Magellan, a railcar just like this one. As a matter of fact, this car was intended to replace the Magellan. The original Magellan had been converted from an observation car in the late 1930s, and first put in service back in 1942 for President Franklin D. Roosevelt,” she told us. It was obvious to me that she shared in her father’s passion for the railroad.

“After the war, the White House decided to order a second, back-up set of cars. But between the bureaucrats and the politics of the time, construction wasn’t actually started until late 1949. With the advent of air travel and the lack of endorsement from the Eisenhower administration, Washington later cut the purse strings. The unfinished Magellan II sat abandoned at Pullman’s ‘Richmond Yard’ for several years,” Liz continued.

“In the late 1950s, our father heard about it from one of his railroad buddies. On a whim, he purchased the unfinished set of three railcars, and brought them to our yard in Bridgeport. He worked on them for several years, doing a lot of the work himself. But, unfortunately, he died before he could finish them. Incidentally, Father named this car after our grandmother, Rowena,” Liz said with sadness in her voice as she remembered her grandmother.

“Catherine’s husband, Greg, had them finished, taking Catherine and me on her maiden trek to Chicago, about six years ago. Since then, I don’t think they’ve been out of the yard.,” Liz stated. “Until now.”

I could feel the memories flooding her mind as she spoke. Some of them were of the railcar, but most were about her dad and his love of trains. Finally, she shook her head, as if to clear it.

Turning to Catherine, she asked, “Shall we?”

The twin sisters led us down the long platform to the rear of the older railcar. Instead of an ordinary entry door, we found an open vestibule, almost exactly like the one in the famous picture that showed Harry Truman standing there, holding up the now infamous newspaper that read, ‘Dewey Defeats Truman’.

We boarded The Rowena, and I was immediately impressed. The interior had been finished, closely following the original plans for the Presidential railcar. This included the rich oak paneling with polished brass trim, and the plush carpeting in presidential blue. The Rowena had a lounge/observation area, a small kitchen/pantry, two custom suites, then a conference/dining area featuring a wooden table that would seat eight. Then two more suites, followed by the staff quarters at the end of the car.

“This car is designed to travel alone and has armor plating in the floor, the roof, and the sides. The windows are made out of bullet resistant glass and there are two hidden escape hatches,” Liz told us.

“The next car is the Dining Car, and the one after that is what daddy called the ‘Guest Wing’. It’s a sleeping car with eight custom staterooms, with accommodations for up to three people in each stateroom.”

We moved through the Rowena, looking in all the rooms. I noticed the staff room was equipped with medical supplies and equipment. There was also a small communications console and a gun locker.

The Dining Car was laid out with booths that would seat four people on one side, and across the aisle, were smaller, two-person booths. I quickly counted seating for thirty.

“Good! At least we can all eat together!” I thought.

Next was the kitchen and pantry. Someone had designed the pantry with a mini wine cellar, but I noted that it was not stocked. Beyond the kitchen was another lounge area, with the seats all facing forward. There was a seal affixed to the bulkhead on each side of the door, bearing the Wagner Industries logo.

“This area was originally designed for presidential press conferences. Truman discovered it convenient to do rolling press conferences, since his detractors rarely rode with his regular press contingent. He also learned to treat the members of the press traveling with him very well. A large area in the supply car was committed to liquor storage,” Liz said, continuing her fascinating narration.

“One of the things I always found interesting, is that this car always determined the direction the cars are added to the train. The story goes, that one of the members of the press corps was famous for getting sick if he rode facing the rear, so Truman always made sure the seats in this car faced the front of the train. He once quipped that he didn’t care if they wrote about him when they were drunk, but he didn’t want them writing about him when they were sick.”

The train lurched suddenly.

“That’s the yard switcher. They’re positioning us on the outbound now,” she explained the train’s sudden movement.

Using their family connections, Catherine had arranged to have the Rowena and the other two cars shipped to Denver. It turns out, that all you had to do to ‘ship’ a set of railcars, was simply add them to the end of whatever train was headed in the direction you wanted to go. The observation car taking the place of the caboose. Usually, the railroads tried to use direct or straight runs, to minimize the number of times the set would have to be removed for cars to be added or dropped from the consist.

“The return trip will take us straight through Kansas City to St. Louis, where we’ll be tagged (switched) to a different eastbound freight to Newark. From there, the last freight train will drop us at the Lower Yard in Bridgeport, Connecticut; where Wagner Industries still has a shed,” Catherine explained.

“All the kids are in the ‘Guest Wing’ car. Penny and Beth are in the first bedroom, and Peter is in the last one, other than that, just pick a room and stash your bags. You’ll have to share though,” Liz told us.

“Michael, let’s put you in this one,” Penny pointed to the one next to hers. I knew she was doing it for security purposes, so I didn’t object.

“Good. Jason can go there as well,” Liz added.

It looked like Jason would be sharing a bedroom with me. Any other time, I might have been disappointed not to have been with one of the girls. But after the last two days, and especially today, I was wasted.

“I hope he likes the top berth,” I thought as I threw my bag on the larger, lower berth.

Liz and Catherine were sharing one of the four custom suites or staterooms on the Rowena; Kalani had the one next to them. The other two were occupied by John and Sarah, and Debbie, by herself.

As we made our way back to the observation car, the one they had named Rowena, I noticed a man stowing supplies in the kitchen. I had never seen him before, so as had become my habit, I scanned him as we walked towards the rear of the train.

One of the things I was learning with my gift, was that everybody has secrets. The General had some of the darkest ones I had ever seen, most of them dealing with the horrors of war and command. Anna, Catherine, and Penny all had more than average also; at least, so far. My preliminary opinion seemed to be that the older a person was, the more secrets they had. I have to admit I didn’t have a very big sampling yet.

The guy in the kitchen was a cook, and he had many secrets; nasty, dark, and dangerous secrets. I knew in a heartbeat, that this was the most dangerous man I had ever met. He was also the most emotionless person I had met, so the details were mostly obscured, but his dangerous aptitude couldn’t be missed. I was so surprised, I stumbled as I walked past him, falling to the aisle.

I felt a strong hand grip my arm and yank me back up, almost before I had touched the floor. It happened so fast that Nicky, walking behind me, didn’t even have time to cry out.

“Michael! Are you...?” Nicky’s thought was cut off before she could give it voice, only to be immediately followed by ” ... Oh ... my ... God!”

A jumbled assortment of fragmented fantasies flashed through her mind, triggering an immediate rise in her libido.

“Are you okay?” the strong arm asked as he stood in the aisle and looked me in the eye.

“Yeah. I don’t think I have my ‘sea legs’ yet,” I grinned sheepishly.

“You will. Just be careful while the train’s in motion,” he said with a weary smile.

Then turning to Nicky, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She couldn’t speak, so she just nodded.

He smiled at her teenaged angst. He knew his looks attracted women of all ages, and he was used to it. He was about the same height as me, but more chiseled. His strength was obvious in his bearing, the confident way in which he carried himself. But his single biggest attribute, at least as far as I could tell from Nicky, were his eyes. They seemed to see into her, in a friendly, noninvasive way.

I stuck out my hand and said, “Thanks for the help. I’m Michael.”

He took my hand. It was a firm grip.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“And this is my twin sister Nicole,” I nodded to Nicky.

Then turning to Nicky, he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. My name is Kip.”

I noted that he shook her hand lightly, careful not to hurt her. I also sensed a flicker of desire as he looked at her, before he quickly squashed it.

“It’s ... it’s ... Nicky,” she stammered.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Not Nicole,” she stated quickly, still holding his hand. “It’s Nicky.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you ... Nicky,” he said with a warm smile. I could sense his confidence and charm flowing to Nicky as she continued to hold his hand, looking into his eyes.

Finally realizing she was still holding onto his hand, she let it go quickly. Lowering her head, she murmured something, as she quickly squeezed by me, headed for the last car.

Kip looked at me.

I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

Kip was hard to read, because he kept his emotions in such tight check; but, I had found enough to let me know he was there for the General, or because of him. Either way, he wasn’t a threat to us.

Most everyone was in the parlor, which is what Liz and Catherine called the lounge part of the last railcar. Someone had set out some snacks and fruit on the table, so I grabbed a banana as I went by. Even though it was getting late, no one seemed ready for bed as we sat on the siding, waiting to be coupled to the rear of the eastbound freight train that would take us to St. Louis.

“How long will it take to get home?” someone asked.

“We should reach Newark sometime early Friday morning, then into Bridgeport a couple of hours later. We’ll still have to take the ferry to Long Island. That usually takes a little more than an hour, and then another fifteen minutes or so to Seven Oaks. We should be home by noon, Friday, if everything goes according to plan,” Catherine explained as she took a seat next to me, bringing Penny with her.

Penny looked to Catherine for permission before she started to speak. Catherine nodded slightly.

“Michael. You, Catherine, and I, along with John, Sarah, and Debbie will disembark in Newark. I understand that Liz has agreed to skip the board meeting to take Helen, Kalani, and the girls on to the house. Is that right?”

Catherine nodded.

“She didn’t feel that we would be making any other major decisions. If we do, I can call her,” Catherine added.

“Okay. There will be a car waiting at the railroad yard to take us to Manhattan. If the train is on time, we should arrive at the office before ten o’clock, Friday morning,” Penny informed her.

“Good,” Catherine said, directing her next comments to me. “That will give me time to show you around and get you settled in Greg’s office...”

“Office?” I interrupted.

“Of course. You can’t expect to be the head of a large corporation without an office,” Catherine replied with a knowing smile. “It’s too late to start tonight, but David brought some files on how the company is structured, and what’s been happening the last two quarters. You need to get up to speed, quickly, on a whole host of issues and pending contracts.”

“I thought this was just about the deal with the Russians?” I stated it as a question.

“It is, partly; but once you are approved to take over, the company will be able to do other business that has been piling up, waiting on you to turn eighteen. With your emancipation, we can proceed to deal with it, without waiting,” Catherine explained.

“So there are other deals? Besides the one with the Russians, I mean?” I questioned her.

“While I understand what your grandfather intended, and I respect it, I don’t think Greg foresaw how much it would stymie the company, not being able to make necessary decisions. I honestly believe it has grown larger than even he anticipated. Because I want to respect his wishes, I plan on keeping you involved in all of the company’s major decisions. Technically, you’ll be in charge, once your petition for emancipation is approved. The board’s approval will be with the stipulation for oversight, but we cannot legally take away your authority. What we hope, is that you will not fight the decisions we make. So I will make it my job to make sure you are well informed on every one. Also, whether you are making the day-to-day decisions or not, you will still be the figurehead and spokesman for the company.”