Amy Star A Trip in Time

A Trip in Time

Nervous trepidation filled my mind just as I was to travel to Rhode Island to visit friends. Even though I had been an avid traveller in the past, I had to face the fact that now I couldn't walk very far without getting out of breath and feeling stress in all my joints. I wondered how would I get to Pennsylvania Station in New York City with my little suitcase and successfully make the transition from the bus station to the train. So, I eagerly accepted my husband's offer to drive me to the Station; however, the early morning rush hour traffic in Manhattan was a bear. Construction everywhere, horns honking in awful, brutal cacophony. People rushing, traffic: trucks and buses and cabs. My time was fast ticking away. The train was leaving at 8:30 am, and it was 8:23 as we pulled into the entrance of the station.

I leapt out of the car, dragging the suitcase bumping along behind me and I pushed into the belly of the train station. I stopped in horrified amazement -- people rushing everywhere, unintelligible overhead speaker announcements that just sounded like a dull roar. Abruptly startled by camouflaged soldiers carrying machine guns and bomb sniffing dogs on leashes held by tough-looking men, I could hardly draw breath. I gasped out, "Where's the train to Boston?"

"Track 8W," responded a bored looking train official. Track 8 felt like it was a football field away as I stumbled towards it. Finally, with the last bit of energy, I dragged myself to track 8, but it was 8E, where was 8W? "Boston?" I croaked. Someone pointed across to the other side of the platform. People were getting off that train, and I had to push myself down against the mobs of commuters coming up the stairs. I looked at my watch which registered 8:30 exactly. At the same moment I met the eye of the conductor who asked "Boston?" I nodded wearily, and he reached out and pulled me and my luggage into the train car just as the train door closed behind me without a second to spare. I nodded thank you be-

cause I was too weak to speak. A man immediately put my bag up on the luggage rack. A woman got me a cup of water. I coughed a couple of times and was finally able to gasp out, "Thanks."

I regained my breath and senses as I looked out the window. Beautiful views flew by. Trees, buildings, railroad crossings, then water, streams, ponds, boats, and I realized that it was a really beautiful day. The sky was a bright blue and not a cloud to be found. The air was crisp. The motion of the train was soothing and rocked me gently. I looked across the aisle at the Good Samaritan who had kindly put my luggage on the rack. For the first time I really looked at him and saw his muscles ripple under his tee shirt. His head was shaved but he had a kind and friendly face. I thanked him for helping me, and he gave me the biggest smile which transformed his face into an extremely handsome one. I inhaled sharply and felt my stomach constrict. I couldn't quite tear my eyes away from him, and as the train continued to rock me back and forth, a sudden sexual fantasy captured my thoughts. Quickly I stifled it and felt myself turning bright red and finally had to look away. I thought to myself that the stress of getting on the train had brought me to madness, and I must regain my sensibilities. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wondered what life might be like if I could share it with my beautiful stranger. Would he be attentive to my needs? Would he give me back rubs and join me in a bubble bath? Would we stroll through towns holding hands and cause passersby to speculate on what is that older woman doing with that hunk of a guy? Would they wonder what secret allures I must have going for me? My fantasies continued until I felt I could be arrested for what I was imagining. I made myself breathe a very deep breath and shook those intruding fantasies out of my mind. Instead, I turned to the window and looked at the passing scenery which was beautiful. I grabbed my cell phone and began to snap pictures as the train flew down the tracks. I ate my snack of cheese and apples and Swiss chocolates and slowly began to read the NY Times I pulled from my purse. I felt really luxurious. This should be my every day life. Having a very attractive stranger attend to my luggage, beauti-

ful scenery, the rocking of the train -- oh no, not that again, and I willed myself to stop. I spent most of the next two hours looking ever so casually across the aisle at my handsome stranger and grinning idiotically. He would periodically nod at me until suddenly he began to gather up his things. He gave me another dazzling smile and wished me a good trip. I watched him go, step out onto the platform and walk athletically towards the exit. I wonder if I missed an opportunity there. Should I have struck up a conversation with him instead of grinning at him idiotically? I was no longer a young woman in my 20's when this might have been possible. With a great sadness, I realized that now at 70, I could only expect that someone might assist me on a train, bring me a cup of water and offer aid to the infirm. Still it was fun to be on the trip, to be on the rails, to see the scenery fly by, to wonder what would come next.

My friends met me at a Rhode Island train station to begin our week’s vacation, but I am afraid I was not very good company. I kept spacing out and day dreaming. Part of me couldn’t but help wonder what happened to my smiling, handsome stranger. Was someone else with him? Or was he on another train helping another older woman by putting her luggage on a rack, giving his remarkable smile and causing her to fantasize about him all the way to her final destination?

Amy Star

Amy Star moved to Asheville, North Carolina and discovered an amazing place where artists, writers, and musicians are encouraged to create their work in a supportive environment. She is very grateful to be living there.

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