The Train Trip
I recently purchased a new computer and had all my old files uploaded from the old one. I really don't write very much. Over the past nine years I've made sporadic attempts at an ambitious century-spanning novel about NYC, but if I put all the excerpts together they probably wouldn't even amount to twenty pages. And they're lousy anyhow. But I decided to get brave and open up some old "mystery" WORD documents and came across something entitled, "Train Trip." I so did not recall writing this that, at first, I thought it was cut-and-pasted from someone else's work. I mean, why would I ever write anything with characters named Troy and Sid? Troy and Sid??? WTF?.
But as I read the entire thing, I realized that certain details were cribbed directly from a train trip to Kansas City that my mother and sister took in 2003. So yeah, I guess I wrote it.
If anyone still reads this blog, take a moment, if you will, and read this. Is it worth pursuing? It might be fun to have something to submit to one of these LGBT anthologies.
The sleeper compartment on the Amtrak was small. Tiny small. When the conductor showed the boys to it, Troy thought there’d been a mistake, that it wasn’t a sleeper at all. It had two seats, facing one another. Sitting in them, they would be knee to knee. But the conductor assured them it was a sleeper. The seats, it seemed, opened to beds of a sort. When the beds were both open, there would be almost no room to stand between them. What did fat people do? Troy wondered. Well, at least there was a window.
“Shit, this is small. Look at that TV, for crying out loud. I think we’re in a scene from The Terror of Tiny Town or something. Any minute now, that little dude from the Lollipop League’s gonna jump out.” Sid laughed.
Troy was nervous of it. It felt like a trap. One that he had set. He wondered if he was being paranoid or if there was some shared sense of that evidenced in Sid’s reaction to the place. “I thought it would be nicer…er, bigger, y’know? Like in the movies.” With both hands, he clutched the handle of his overnight bag. It hung down in front of his legs, as if he was using it to shield himself.
“Eh, nothin’s like in the movies, is it?” Sid shrugged then reached over and snatched Troy’s case brusquely, unwittingly grazing his fingers against the zipper of Troy’s jeans. Troy drew a sharp breath, like a gasp. Both from the excitement and a vague feeling of violation. Sid, oblivious, set the bags down along the wall beneath the window. Clapping his hands together gamely, he said. “Let’s go to the dining car, shall we? See what’s for grub,” and left.
Troy was trembling. All he wanted to do was collapse into the seat, now that he was alone, to collect himself. Instead he followed Sid into the aisle and headed after him to the dining car.
It was crowded and they were forced to sit with someone else. A large man with several gold teeth and an indecipherable tattoo on his hand. It looked homemade. The only homemade tattoos that Troy knew of were the kind made somewhere that was about as far from home as he could imagine. It gave him the creeps. But the man was pleasant, mild-mannered even, and he and Sid hit it off famously. Troy sat silently as the two shared about their travels.
When the meal was over, it was dark outside and the boys took their leave of Carlos, the large tattooed man. Sid made him promise to join them in the morning for breakfast, going so far as to set a time for the meal so they’d be sure not to miss one another. About this, Troy was peevish.
“Hey c’mon dude, he was a cool guy. A nice guy.” He elbowed Troy in the side. “When do we ever get to meet anyone like that, huh?”
“I guess.” Sullen.
Back in their compartment, they watched a bit of Love Actually on the comically small television. It was a bad British romantic comedy and neither of them was particularly interested in it but their choices were limited. Neither was tired as it wasn’t terribly late so they watched in grim, strained silence. The moment it was over, before the first credit even rolled, Sid switched off the TV.
“Well, that was fun. Let’s crash, okay?”
It was like an order. Troy was alarmed; knew that he would never be able to sleep. Not with Sid so near, but didn’t argue. He never argued with Sid. That’s why Sid hung around with him, he was convinced. Sid deftly converted his seat into the bed, such as it was. With both of them standing, there was almost no room to move, never mind to get undressed.
“I think you need to close that up first.”
“First? Why? Before what?”
“So we can change. There’s no room to change with the beds open like that.”
Without complying, without answering, Sid wriggled out of his things, every stitch, casually brushing against Troy, who remained seated across from the open bed. Nonchalantly, he tossed his balled up things into a corner of the small room and climbed onto his bed. “Your turn, blondie.”
“I’m not gonna…I mean, I have…I brought something.”
“You brought something? Well okay, whatever. Whip it out.” Sarcastic laughter.
“No. I mean…sweats. I have…sweats to wear. They’re in my bag.” While he spoke he began to dig roughly through his bag. After producing them, he changed, best he could, stuffed into the one remaining open area of the compartment between his chair and the outside wall of the train beside the window. Although his back was turned, he could feel Sid watching him. Could almost hear him laughing.
But as I read the entire thing, I realized that certain details were cribbed directly from a train trip to Kansas City that my mother and sister took in 2003. So yeah, I guess I wrote it.
If anyone still reads this blog, take a moment, if you will, and read this. Is it worth pursuing? It might be fun to have something to submit to one of these LGBT anthologies.
The sleeper compartment on the Amtrak was small. Tiny small. When the conductor showed the boys to it, Troy thought there’d been a mistake, that it wasn’t a sleeper at all. It had two seats, facing one another. Sitting in them, they would be knee to knee. But the conductor assured them it was a sleeper. The seats, it seemed, opened to beds of a sort. When the beds were both open, there would be almost no room to stand between them. What did fat people do? Troy wondered. Well, at least there was a window.
“Shit, this is small. Look at that TV, for crying out loud. I think we’re in a scene from The Terror of Tiny Town or something. Any minute now, that little dude from the Lollipop League’s gonna jump out.” Sid laughed.
Troy was nervous of it. It felt like a trap. One that he had set. He wondered if he was being paranoid or if there was some shared sense of that evidenced in Sid’s reaction to the place. “I thought it would be nicer…er, bigger, y’know? Like in the movies.” With both hands, he clutched the handle of his overnight bag. It hung down in front of his legs, as if he was using it to shield himself.
“Eh, nothin’s like in the movies, is it?” Sid shrugged then reached over and snatched Troy’s case brusquely, unwittingly grazing his fingers against the zipper of Troy’s jeans. Troy drew a sharp breath, like a gasp. Both from the excitement and a vague feeling of violation. Sid, oblivious, set the bags down along the wall beneath the window. Clapping his hands together gamely, he said. “Let’s go to the dining car, shall we? See what’s for grub,” and left.
Troy was trembling. All he wanted to do was collapse into the seat, now that he was alone, to collect himself. Instead he followed Sid into the aisle and headed after him to the dining car.
It was crowded and they were forced to sit with someone else. A large man with several gold teeth and an indecipherable tattoo on his hand. It looked homemade. The only homemade tattoos that Troy knew of were the kind made somewhere that was about as far from home as he could imagine. It gave him the creeps. But the man was pleasant, mild-mannered even, and he and Sid hit it off famously. Troy sat silently as the two shared about their travels.
When the meal was over, it was dark outside and the boys took their leave of Carlos, the large tattooed man. Sid made him promise to join them in the morning for breakfast, going so far as to set a time for the meal so they’d be sure not to miss one another. About this, Troy was peevish.
“Hey c’mon dude, he was a cool guy. A nice guy.” He elbowed Troy in the side. “When do we ever get to meet anyone like that, huh?”
“I guess.” Sullen.
Back in their compartment, they watched a bit of Love Actually on the comically small television. It was a bad British romantic comedy and neither of them was particularly interested in it but their choices were limited. Neither was tired as it wasn’t terribly late so they watched in grim, strained silence. The moment it was over, before the first credit even rolled, Sid switched off the TV.
“Well, that was fun. Let’s crash, okay?”
It was like an order. Troy was alarmed; knew that he would never be able to sleep. Not with Sid so near, but didn’t argue. He never argued with Sid. That’s why Sid hung around with him, he was convinced. Sid deftly converted his seat into the bed, such as it was. With both of them standing, there was almost no room to move, never mind to get undressed.
“I think you need to close that up first.”
“First? Why? Before what?”
“So we can change. There’s no room to change with the beds open like that.”
Without complying, without answering, Sid wriggled out of his things, every stitch, casually brushing against Troy, who remained seated across from the open bed. Nonchalantly, he tossed his balled up things into a corner of the small room and climbed onto his bed. “Your turn, blondie.”
“I’m not gonna…I mean, I have…I brought something.”
“You brought something? Well okay, whatever. Whip it out.” Sarcastic laughter.
“No. I mean…sweats. I have…sweats to wear. They’re in my bag.” While he spoke he began to dig roughly through his bag. After producing them, he changed, best he could, stuffed into the one remaining open area of the compartment between his chair and the outside wall of the train beside the window. Although his back was turned, he could feel Sid watching him. Could almost hear him laughing.