Cemetery Street - Page 202/263

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The next time I saw Cemetery Street was Thanksgiving. I was excited about the visit not only because it interrupted my daily torture, it was my first overnight stay away from Rehab. We had dinner at Shannie's. I stunned everyone by asking to say a prayer. "God is good, God is great, now Diane get your ass over here and fill my plate." We laughed.

After dinner Shannie emerged from her room with a sand-colored binder containing Count's letters. Only Shannie seemed not to notice as I slid out of my chair and waddled into the television room. I stared at the dark television screen imagining the horrors Count must have faced as I caught bits and pieces of Shannie's oration. I questioned why someone as revered as Count died while someone as useless as myself survived. I remembered it was my fault that he joined the army.

The next day as the sun sunk, Shannie and I made our way down Main Street. I was returning to prison. As the GTI passed JD's tavern the railroad crossing lights sprung to life. Shannie accelerated, she wanted to beat the gates. "Stop, I want to feel a train again."

Since moving to Beyford I've felt a primordial excitement over an approaching train; I can't explain it other than it simply pleasing. Many times in my hooptie - even in the dead of winter - I'd roll down my window as a freight approached. Whether it's the glaring headlights or the deliberateness of the horn - its blast stating that if you know what's good for you, you'd clear the way. Or maybe it's just the shear power of the engines; I respect anything that makes the earth tremble.

Shannie nosed up to the gate as it bounced to a rest. I rolled down the window. I smiled to the train horn's blast and the engine's determined rumble. I knew the freight was an eastbound and that it was moving slowly, probably a coal train headed to Cromby.

"What are you doing?" Shannie asked as I climbed out.

"Want a better look."

"Don't do anything stupid!" Shannie commanded.

Ignoring Shannie I stepped up to the gate. The monster's lights sliced dusk. The ground shook under my feet. My skin vibrated over my bones. "Don't worry." I said to Shannie.

I ducked under the gate and gimped onto the track. The tension of the recent past vanished in the face of the closing freight. In the seconds I challenged the advancing monster, I came closer to understanding Shannie than I ever had. Complete freedom and calm overtook me; I never felt such peace, at least while conscious. I was in complete control of my destiny. I was the only force that determined if I lived or died. The engineer didn't have a vote. Shannie had no say, nor did the handful of horrified witnesses. I began laughing, quite uncontrollably. I glanced at Shannie, waving to her. Her face was wracked with terror. She was shouting, unheard over the train's roar. In that moment she aged beyond what she lived to see. Smiling, I faced the train once more before stepping to my left and out of the way of the freight. Ignoring the curses of the engineer and the gawks of drivers, I laughed as my hair was rustled in the freight's blast.