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Chapter 67
August, 1987
Something had changed, Josh realized as he looked out the window from the fireman's seat of the Rock. It was subtle, but it had changed, and he was sure of it.
Things hadn't been quite the same among Marsha and Danny and Amy and himself since the night the week before, out at West Turtle Lake. He and Amy had stayed in the water of the lake for a long time, still hugging and kissing until their feet got cold. Afterwards,
they'd wound up on the sand of the little bay, sitting and hugging, and eventually they got cold enough to get their clothes on, more for warmth, than anything else, both of them wondering what was going on in the back seat of the Chevette, and neither of them wanting to bring the
subject up.
The way that Danny and Marsha had burst out of the Chevette, with clothing in disarray and a cry of, "All right, let's go swimming," hadn't told them a thing, and neither had the way the two had snuggled in the back seat, all the way back to Spearfish Lake. Amy had
ridden back, with Josh's arm around her, but it was a different Amy, a little more distant. It was a different Danny, a different Marsha -- and a different Josh, as well, he realized.
"God, it would have been so easy," he said to himself over the roar of the Rock's diesel, so softly that only he could hear his words in his mind. For the thousandth time, he went over his decision in his mind. Half the time, he knew he'd done the right thing, and half the
time, he kicked himself for turning down the opportunity, but the deed was done -- or undone, actually, but somehow, he knew there would be no turning back.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the back seat of the Chevette. Danny wasn't saying, and Marsha wasn't either. Josh had tried to lead Danny into some discussion, some hint, maybe half a dozen times, but Danny wasn't taking the bait. The only
hint that Josh was getting was that Danny and Marsha seemed closer than ever, but that was hardly proof.
"You're pretty quiet over there today," Bud said from the throttle. It wasn't the first run Josh had made with Bud, even though Bud tried to leave himself off of the schedule whenever possible. Sometimes, in the summer, it wasn't always possible. "How's football
practice going?"
"Just drills this week," Josh said, dragging himself away from his thoughts about his friends. "We break out the pads Monday."
"How's it looking?" Bud asked.
"Pretty good, so far," Josh said. "We scrimmage against Warsaw the end of next week, and we'll have a better idea then."
"You're a running back, right?"
"Yeah," Josh told him. "The only thing is, I don't expect I'll play a lot. They brought me up from JVs last year, but I pretty much was on the bench. They've still got a lot of senior backs, so I don't expect there'll be a lot of room for me this year, either."
"I keep forgetting you're only a junior," Bud said. "You planning on playing football in college?"
"Not unless I get an athletic scholarship," Josh replied over the roar of the engine. He hadn't thought it out that far, but now that it was said, at least that much made sense. "In fact, I'm not real sure I'm going to go to college."
"I never made it," Bud said. "Back in my day, they weren't quite as liberal with scholarships as they are today. So, I joined the army right after I got out of high school. Had to get away from the grocery business. Well, let me tell you, after a year in Vietnam, the
grocery business looked pretty darn good. I stayed with it until this railroad thing came up. It worked out all right."
"I'm just not real sure I want to go to college," Josh replied.
"They been letting you run these things?" Bud asked.
"A bit," Josh said. "Dad and John have let me run them some, and Diane let me take a load of empties from Camden up to Pit the other day."
"Well, then, there's no reason why you can't run this thing while I go hit the head," Bud said. "There's no crossings or anything for the next ten minutes or so, but keep an eye out for deer." He got up from his seat, and Josh moved over to the engineer position.
It was the first time he'd actually been running the motor alone. Every time before, his dad or John or Bruce or Diane had been right next to him. Even though the Rock was lumbering along about 25, lightly loaded, it was a thrill to be able to run it by himself, even more
thrilling than when Mark had let him harness up three dogs and take them out by himself.
Bud was back in a couple of minutes. Josh started to get up, but Bud settled into the fireman's seat. "Go ahead and run it for a while," Bud told him. "I learned back during the Warsaw fire how important it is to have all the brakemen know how to run the motors, even
if it's just a little bit. John was just a brakeman then, but he saved our butts."
Josh had heard the story before. At the time, Bud and Josh's dad had been the only people in town that were qualified engineers, and Josh's dad had been so sick with the flu he could hardly stand up. After everybody was falling over from lack of sleep, the only way
that they could keep going was for Bud to get the train going, then go to sleep while John ran the easy parts, and wake Bud up when the going got tough. John was running the local switching in Camden now, with an occasional road run. "I've learned a lot about braking with
John," Josh said, more to head off the familiar story than anything else.
"You should," Bud said. "He and Bruce are the only people we've got that have worked as a brakeman anywhere else. John was a damn good brakeman when he came here, and he taught all of us a lot. That's why he's down in Camden. He knows all those switching
tricks that we rarely use elsewhere."
"You mean, like a flying switch?"
"Has he done one of those with you?" Bud frowned. "That's pretty damn dangerous, with your level of experience."
"No," Josh said. "But, he explained how it's done."
Bud shook his head. "I wish he'd quit doing that," he said. "Some one of these days, someone's going to miss a grabiron, fall and hurt themselves, and we'll have a carload of something fragile bang against the stops hard enough to break something. But," he
rationalized, "He's got the experience to get away with it."
"He says when he does it, he usually has the brakeman running the engine, while he's on the ground."
"Well, if he busts his ass, it's his own ass that he busts," Bud said. "You like braking?"
"Yeah," Josh said. "It's a lot of fun."
"You like to keep at it through the fall?" Bud asked. "I realize, with school and football, you're not going to have a lot of time, but we're going to be staying real busy right up through about November, when the pits close. Then, we'll just be busy."
"I'd like to," Josh said. "It's going to be awful tough, with all the football practices, though."
"If you're just going to be warming the bench, then maybe there isn't the need to make every practice," Bud suggested. "I can talk to Coach Hekkinan about it, if you want to work some."
"It gets dull, getting up for every game and knowing you're not going to be playing much," Josh said. "I still wouldn't be able to put in the hours I'm working now."
"I know that," Bud said. "We'll work you when you can. I'll talk to Hekkinan about it. I think he'll understand."
"Well, yeah, then, I'll be glad to work when I can. I really like this, you know."
Bud flipped over the germ of an idea in his mind, and came up with the realization that it was still too half-baked to bring up. "You ever think about doing this when you get out of school?" he asked. "You know, braking, engine service, maybe diesel maintenance?"
"Not till this summer," Josh said, noticing a crossing was coming up, and reaching for the whistle cord. "But, I keep thinking that there are a lot worse things I could do."
"There are," Bud said. "Running a grocery store is one of them." His last words were drowned out by the Rock's whistle, as Josh blew for the crossing.
