I heard it before I saw it. More “Honk Honk” than “Choo Choo.” Then faint lights down the track illuminated other faces near me on the platform, growing as the train approached. Muggy air pushed ahead by the engine car cooled my forehead. Amtrak’s Broadway Limited then glided into its brief stop in Lima, Ohio.
The nervous vise around my stomach loosened. After a two-hour delay, my getaway to New York was here! I grinned as my eyes darted all over the humming train, trying to identify the right car to enter.
People streamed to my left towards a porter waving from his perch on the train several feet above us. I floated that way and finally got to step up into the car’s threshold. I flashed my ticket to the porter, who barely nodded.
Inside, I turned left toward some seats half filled with slumbering passengers. The dim coach smelled like diesel fuel mixed with recycled air on a jet. I chose a spot, dropping “The World’s Heaviest Briefcase” on the empty seat next to me.
And waited.
Other passengers kept boarding, fumbling for seats in the dark. Porters outside shouted at each other as they prepared to roll out another departure. Their voices softened, then fragmented until I didn’t hear anything.
The car heaved forward with a groan then eased while the station’s lights slipped by with increasing speed. I exhaled. My body sank back into the darkness. Exhausted, yet relieved. Like the Nike commercial suggested, I just did it. I was free.
Photo: Pixabay
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