Chapter 11: The Sunset Limited

October 7th, 1995, 6:30 AM CT, Union Passenger Terminal, New Orleans, LA

The Sunset Limited sat there waiting in the station. It had been combined with some cars from the other days train. One of the sleepers was at the end of the train, named “New River Gorge,” captained by Mitchell Bates. His worry kept increasing and increasing. He did some breathing exercises. This train was the train from hell as it was already. Something just wasn’t right. He was truly terrified; some sort of aura was telling him that he should be in fear for his life; he kept trying to convince himself things were fine.

He regretted taking the job, that was for sure. Heaven knew when he’d get back to Florida now. The train was close to three days late as it was. The last passenger to board the train came aboard and the conductor gave the highball to the engineer.

Once the pride of Southern Pacific’s fleet, and now the embarrassment of Amtrak, Train 1, the Sunset Limited, blasted its horn a few times, and then set out on its fateful rendezvous with destiny.

October 7th, 1995, 11:45 AM CT, Houston, TX

“Sharon, don’t worry about it!” Miguel told her, “I’m not going to steal Chex from you. I lo-, er, I like you a lot and I love your kids, and I am going to keep my promise. What would I need this thing for, anyway? I’d have millions from Gladys if I even hinted at wanting it! I am not going to betray our growing trust and respect for an admittedly beautiful but not particularly monetarily valuable car.”

“I’m sorry,” Sharon said, “I’m really sorry I accu-”

“I understand,” Miguel said, “I know how you feel about this car. It is a very special car, not only to you, but in its own right. It’s alright. I feel it, too. The car is alive, its like a person. I really do understand.”

“You do understand, don’t you?” Sharon replied, crying a little, “You get it. You get me. I didn’t know anyone could get that I see the car as alive. It protects me, Miguel. It loves me. I love it. It’s like ... a big, very faithful Golden Retriever.”

“I really do understand,” Miguel insisted, “I can feel it, too. I really can.”

Miguel expertly threaded the old, sluggish leviathan through the dense Houston traffic with the kind of expertise New York cabbies used to throw these things around dense Manhattan traffic. How he knew how to drive a big car through dense city traffic was a mystery to Sharon. She didn’t know that he often drove a semi truck to deliver produce for the Weisinsteins when the farm was still operational. Chex was a small, nimble sports car compared to the Semi he used to drive.

His ability to use a column mounted gearshift also startled her- most people have never used one and choke on it, if they even knew how to drive a stick shift car in the first place. Chex seemed to like him a lot more then she had liked her ex- Chex drove well and responded to him. Chex always balked and choked when her husband was driving; it would send him into a rage. She trusted the car’s instincts on who to trust and who to put her faith into; it seemed to always know best. Just like it had trusted the man who she sold her stuff to.

Soon they pulled up to the small shack that Southern Pacific had built to serve passengers in Houston in the early sixties. The original terminal, Grand Central Station, had been torn down in 1960. Southern Pacific was not a passenger-friendly railroad, and in the sixties they were trying to kill passenger service anyway. It was demolished to make way for I-45, which actually runs above the station and tracks, keeping them in its perpetual noisy shade.

This was the company that ran their New Orleans to Los Angeles Sunset Limited, once one of the most exclusive trains of all, with a few coaches, a baggage car, and an auto-mat food vending machine car. While a lot of railroads were trying to kill passenger service by the mid sixties, Southern Pacific was the one who was screaming “Passengers will please refrain!” the loudest; they were one of the ones who did everything short of hiring thugs to scare people off the trains.

This terminal reflected that. Ok, it was not quite a shack. Although it predated Amtrak by eleven years, it was built in a style surprisingly reminiscent of classical “Amshack” architecture. It was an ugly, flat-roofed brick building, with a small waiting room using the benches from the original station, a tiny concession stand, and a check-in desk, as well as bathrooms. For a staffed station, this was about the bare minimum. It was absolutely pitiful for a station of a city the size of Houston.

Of course, it wasn’t as bad as some Amtrak stations, such as Beaumont, which consisted of a chewed-up strip of concrete sitting in the middle of a freight yard. But it was still a poor excuse for a train station. The fact that it wasn’t the worst reflects more on how bad the stations in the system could get, rather than the actual quality of the station itself.

Miguel helped them unload the luggage and carry it into the building. He sat the kids down, insisted that they listen to their mother or he wasn’t going to play games with them later, and went back to the car. He liked kids, and these kids were especially to his liking; obedient but independent.

He got in and started it up again. The old tractor diesel was a raucous beast, full of personality and durability. He and Sharon had found a rental garage/storage place and that’s where he headed. It was about an hour and a half drive through San Antonio’s awful traffic, but the price was right and the place looked pretty secure. Also, the owner had agreed to drive him back to the station if he paid six months in advance, which they were planning to do anyway.

It was weird, he had only been away from Sharon for a little while and already he missed her. Was it possible he was falling for her? She really was a sweet woman and a devoted mother; qualities he liked in a woman; the truth was he had a lot of feelings for Gladys, but she had been way too old for him. Sharon, he liked her a lot. He really liked her kids, too. He would love to have a few of his own, but these would be perfect as it was.

How they would deal with that asshole of a husband was beyond him. He knew that getting rid of him would not be as simple as running away to Los Angeles. He had certain rights, no matter how much of a jerk he was, that would require due process to strip him of. That meant court proceedings and restraining orders, and the murderous shithead finding out their location. But that was a whole different ball of wax, and he would deal with it once he got Sharon safely away from the immediate danger.

He got to the storage place, backed Chex into the garage they had decided to rent, and set about the long and drawn out process of draining all the car’s fluids, disconnecting the battery, and all the other things someone does when a car isn’t expected to be run for quite some time. He wanted to be damned sure that this car would be perfect when they came back to collect it in the future.

It was nearly four o’clock when he was satisfied that Chex was in a condition to be safely stored for months, or years, if need be. He put a sign on the steering wheel informing anyone who might try and start it that there was no oil in the engine, got out of the car, waved goodbye to it, and locked up the garage securely. He wished he had a Lock-out-Tag-Out lock for the steering wheel, but he didn’t.

He paid the owner, in cash, for six months of storage. He paid with his own money because he knew that when they got to L.A. Sharon would need every penny she could get. He was hoping that he would be a permanent part of her life, but he didn’t want to have to be. He wanted to be only if she wanted him to be. It was very important that she have a full sense of choice in the matter; the last thing he wanted to do to her was make her feel like she was trapped.

The owner had a few things to take care of before he drove Miguel back; this was a favor, after all. It was not part of his requirements under the storage contract. It was late as they pulled up to the station building once again- nearly 7:15 at night. He was a bit nervous that he had gotten there so late. It was, of course, possible that they had left for places unknown without him; it was also possible that given how long it had taken him to get back they would be worried that he had in fact absconded with Chex.

When he entered, Sharon looked up startled as if she had seen a ghost, then jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around him and crying out. Then Jenna, Jackie, and Jeff looked up and saw him and ran to him too, so that between the various jumping he ended up falling to the floor. He was laying on the floor covered with several caring people welcoming him back to them.

I could learn to like this. I could learn to like this a lot! he thought to himself.

“What’s with all the affection?” he laughed.

“We thought you no come back, daddy!” little Jenna said.

Everyone stared at her, Miguel with moist eyes, feeling very welcome, and very part of the family.

“He’s not your daddy,” Sharon said, then muttering under her breath wistfully, “Not yet, anyway.”

Miguel heard that, but said nothing. He didn’t want to push things.

October 7th, 1995, 8:00 PM CT, San Antonio, TX

They had slept in, all four of them. At least, that was the official story they told each other with smiles and winks. All of them knew the truth, but none of them really felt a need to talk about the details amongst themselves. There was no good reason for that. They had thoroughly enjoyed the morning and night. They all had that glow that comes from being fully satisfied with the circumstances of your life at that moment.

Jill had gotten herself on the pill not long after her and George had started in on that. She didn’t want to have any surprises that would make life more difficult for either of them, and in any case Gretel insisted on it. Gretel wasn’t a mother to her- but she did pose as the most mother-like figure she had in life. She really did care about her, almost as a mother would a daughter. She was thinking that it might be time to take Akilah to the doctor and introduce her to the pill.

When they finally got up they ordered breakfast with room service. George introduced the rest of them to the wonder of eggs Burgandian, which everyone was amazed at. A purple egg doesn’t sound very appetizing, but it really is an awesome and complex gourmet delight. Of course, he had to explain how to prepare it in great detail to the hotel’s cook, but the cook had been sufficiently intrigued by the dish that he decided to try to prepare it for them.

After the delicious breakfast, they took their luggage over to the Amtrak station and then decided to go see SeaWorld. None of them had ever been to a SeaWorld park so they figured it would be fun. After eating lunch at the Seafire Grille, and pronouncing it acceptable but not good, they rode the rides. Atlantic Splashdown was fun, as was Texas Splashdown, but the Rio Loco was a generic river ride and was kind of boring to all but Akilah.

After the rides, they went to see the trademark whale show. They were intrigued by the intelligence and capabilities of these massive creatures. However, the whole thing was over-rehearsed, and it was quite obvious the animals were not into doing the work they were trained to do. They actually looked like they were secretly holding murderous intent towards their trainers.

Afterwards they grabbed dinner at a local burger joint called Papa’s Burgers. They were absolutely delicious, and they enjoyed it immensely, although Josh had wondered about how much the taxi rides were costing. Amtrak was not providing transportation in the city; just between the hotel and train station. Which was, of course, eminently fair.

They took a taxi to the Sunset Depot. It was a beautiful building of exquisite splendor, as were all major railroad stations of its era. Like many stations of its era, though, it was also in a major state of disrepair. From what George had heard, Amtrak intended to abandon this station and switch to a more Amshack-type facility. Someone was claiming they were going to renovate it, which was good. The problem was that there was no firm plans for Amtrak to return to the facility once it was renovated. Many stations had lost Amtrak service, consigning Amtrak passengers to second- or third-rate facilities along the tracks.

After they thoroughly explored the station, they sat down and chatted for a while. It was a few hours yet before their train would arrive. They had enjoyed San Antonio immensely, and had accomplished a lot of things there, both for fun, and personally. But it was time to go. They had several distinct hours to wait; they pulled out a deck of cards and started playing games.

October 7th, 1995, 10:15 PM CT, Southern Pacific Depot, Houston, TX

The younger kids were a little tired when the station announcer finally came on the PA system and announced the train.

“All passengers for Amtrak’s number 1 Sunset Limited service to Los Angeles, the train will arrive in the next five minutes. The train will make stops at San Antonio, Del Rio, Sanderson, Alpine, and El Paso, Texas; Deming and Lordsburg, New Mexico; Benson, Tucson, Coolidge, Tempe, Phoenix, and Yuma, Arizona; and Indio, Ontario, Pomona, and Los Angeles, California. If you are ticketed for this train, please go outside to the platform as the train will be here shortly.”

Miguel went up and collected their tickets, since Sharon had forgotten to do so before. He got the tickets and gave them to Sharon, but she gave them right back and told him to carry them. Sharon was starting to see him as the man of the family already- he had hope yet, he thought. It felt surreal that his life was changing so quickly after so many years of just living on the farm and taking care of the Weisensteins.

They went outside and stood by the tracks. It was perhaps three minutes later that the blast of a train’s horn had them all staring at the headlight of the train as it approached them. The huge behemoth started sounding off its bell as it slowed into the station, the stainless steel cars gleaming even in that low light. The asphalt ground rumbled gently with the approaching train.

To Sharon, it was a beautiful sight to behold. The train slowly ringed its way into the station before stopping with a gentle hiss released from its airbrakes. It was an awe-inspiring display of power and travel, transporting people across the country clear from Miami to Los Angeles. Sharon walked over to one of the coaches and explained what they needed to the coach attendant standing there.