July 11, 2012

• Short Story: Work (The Signalman)

  Treon Stanton glanced glumly at his controls. As signalman for the train company, he had the display memorized by now. Here he was, day after day, acting as a glorified security guard in his little box. The train union was strong: he could not be fired from his job unless he caused an accident.But he could not search for another job, either, not with 3 children under 7 and how limited opportunities were in this small Western town.

  “My life is over at 40,” he sighed. “No more accomplishment,no more adventure. If my biography was being written, this is where the author would resign. ‘And for the next 25 years, Treon pushed buttons to put his children through college and maintain his marriage.’ Why did I let my father convince me not to go to college?”

  He heard  a knock at the door. It was Rachel, the intern from the Locomotive Engineering program who was working with Treon this summer. “So, Rachel, is that little boy of mine bothering you too much?” he asked. Treon’s son was six years old and this was the first time Treon had brought him to work.

  “No” Rachel replied with a smile, “he decided the gravel and train tracks were much more interesting than our work.”

  Treon winced, then became upset at himself for wincing.“There’s a reason why you are the last student in the Locomotive Engineering program before they shut it down, Rachel” he said roughly. “We are stuck in a dying field that can’t even hold the interest of my nosy little boy. Is it too late for you to transfer programs? At least your boyfriend is coming to visit next week. He’s foolish to visit this little town anyway. Enjoy the one restaurant we have for your date night for a full week!” Rachel had photos of her boyfriend, a college baseball player, all over her desk, and when Treon was in a better mood, he would tease her about it. But this was not teasing.

  “I should go check on the tracks” Rachel said in a low voice.

  “Don’t forget, we are switching the train over to the auxiliary track today rather than the main track, due to the new schedule and repairs. So exciting! Also…” Treon paused mid-lecture; Rachel was already gone.Treon realized he had offended her. He stared glumly at the instrument panel,realizing his rudeness. He had not told her, but Rachel was the best intern he had had in years.

  Rachel found Treon’s son playing on the tracks, trying to kick a small ball over the first track and onto the trestles. He was engrossed in his little game, as little boys are, and failed to hear her calling. She scooped him up from the auxiliary tracks, taking the ball with her, and sat him down on her lap on a nearby bench. He whined and wiggled, as little boys do,but she gave him some gum and he calmed down. She hugged him tightly, because this was the last hug she would probably give all summer. Rachel’s boyfriend had broken up with her over Skype last night, calmly telling her that it wasn’t working, hanging up on her as she wept on camera.

  She pressed her face into the little boy’s hair and hugged him tighter, as the little boy began whining again to be allowed to play with his ball on the tracks. She noticed the train sounded closer and louder than it should, but she was too upset to look up.There the four unhappy, discontented spirits remained: Treon, muttering to himself as he switched the train over to the auxiliary tracks; Rachel, holding back tears again; the little boy, wanting to be free;…and the angel of death on the engine, swinging his scythe under the train for the little boy who was not there, and howling in perfect pitch with the train whistle…

  • 6:37 pm
  • 8 Comments