A Train Wreck
I don’t want to think about a train wreck. Sometimes it is a euphemism for a collision of ideas. Or some crazy life situation that backfired, overturned, rolled and landed in a heap of emotional wreckage.
It wasn’t a train wreck, more like a train stoppage. A stall, a long lull. Heading back to Emeryville so many years ago. Robert and me and the boys…they were boys then. Now almost 30. We had carved out this family time in the middle of blending and joining together. The two single parents and their offspring. We went to LA…home of more sunshine and some of my family.
We monitored the boys as they paddled their energy between cars. It was an 8-hour trip at least. I am sure there were lots of snacks. Robert and I were still discovering how we could harmonize our lives. His of understatement and quiet. Machines he favored. Mine full of emotion and expressive, whether it be joy, discontent or worry.
Sitting together as the sun set…the train stopped. Maybe only a couple of hours from landing. There was a car stalled on the tracks. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if the train had not been squeaking along at such a speed that the engineer could brake. Were there brakes then or was it all computerized? Thankfully AI was not yet running the rails. I shudder to think about that as a future scenario. I don’t want to think about the screens that are already substituting for fleshed out companionship. Recently Robert described the state of relating to the screen, the AI romance which some are courting. I don’t want to think about that. More of a train wreck than the one that didn’t happen.
We stalled. The boys mostly oblivious with more time for Oreos and watching the Disney screened in some sort of kids’ car. Did I make that up? We had already enjoyed a real-life ranger describe the scenery along the Pacific Coast as we left Santa Barbara behind, the inland farms and ranches.
Robert and I sat silently after emptying our pockets of chatter. We were now forced to carve out some more time together. It was long and we were tired. I never really knew how and just when the car was towed or pushed or lifted from its railroad perch. I never knew who was in the car. How many people? Was it a family? Young lovers who had forgotten to check the gas in the midst of hormones racing to someplace far, far away. Did they have Oreos too? Maybe Skittles or better yet a sandwich. Hopefully water at least.
Last night, so many years later, we watched the car chase scene in Bullitt. Robert had a map of the route, the meandering mess of San Francisco streets that Bullitt and his suspect careened on, until the bad guys, of course the bad guys, crashed into a gas station engulfed in flames. That was indeed a train wreck. A car wreck. A fire storm.
After 7 or 8 hours, or some period of time I am sure I have exaggerated, the train pulled into the Emeryville station. Probably two tired boys, but certainly two exhausted adults. It was a long day, and the sun had faded long ago. We harmonized our time, suspended and immobilized due to a car which delayed our journey home. Robert and I mostly tired, the boys mostly running on cookies. We are all still a family, years later even closer as we have paddled on. There have been a few trains since. No more cars on tracks, and thankfully no train wrecks. Some tumultuous years, some disappointments but mostly gratitude that the engineer had brakes.