“Would you be kind enough to tell me your name? Maybe I may remember mother talking about you?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but could only remember Tommy so blurted out,
“Tommy.”
She smiled at me for a moment, then with a curious frown on her face asked,
“Tommy?”
“No,”
I stammered. Then beginning to feel foolish, looked around, hoping he was standing there and would come to my rescue. On seeing no one, started to stand, when she leant over and giving my hand a soft pat, softly said,
“Please, don’t go I’m sorry, it is alright if you can’t remember!”
Slowly sinking back, but still feeling a bit foolish, I turned to her and said,
“Sometimes, everything seems so muddled, all I was told, was this is where I should wait for our train,”
Then, as if to clear away the fog, started to shake my head when heard,
“Excuse me, could I see your ticket please?”
Looking up, I saw, the same young porter had approached me before, standing there and thinking, he may believe, because of the circumstances at our previous meeting, I had no money. So with trembling fingers, reached into my breast coat pocket and taking it out, handed it across with an air of pride,
As he reached forward, said,
“Thank you.”
Then, pause and begin slowly turning the ticket from one side to the other, this made me worry something was wrong and as a frown began to form on his forehead, I began to ask what was the problem, when asked,,
“Excuse me sir, as I have never seen a ticket like this before, would you have some form of identification?”
On hearing this, began to wonder what he meant by identification, when heard.
“His name is Tommy Myers, he’s with me,”
On hearing Tommy Myers, turned to see Mrs Billy Myers, looking up at the Porter. Who as he turned to me, said,
“Sorry, then I will have to check this ticket at the office, I hope you don’t mind, Sir?”
Though, very tired and confused, became worried he would not return in time, so replied,
“No I don’t mind young man, but please could I have it back before my train arrives. The old ticket collector, Jonesy, is very harsh on passengers who don’t have tickets.”
With a nod said, as he turned to go.
“I will not be long!”
“Katarina, Katarina.”
I whispered through the swirling fog,
“Let’s go, the guard said he won’t be long and we are too close,”
And mindful of the gravel, started slowly sliding away, when felt someone grab my hand and thinking he had somehow snuck up on me, swung around, to hear,
“Oh that hurt!”
All of a sudden found myself, crouching forward, staring down at this Mrs Billy Myer. By now totally confused, slowly started to sit back down, but aware I had done something wrong, muttered,
“What happened?”
And, on hearing no reply turned, to see she was looking at me with a startled look on her face, and as our eyes met she whispered,
“You gave me such a terrible fright just then, I hope what happened, was not because I said your name was Tommy Myers and you are with me. I only done that, because before you could not remember your name and as he seems to have some problem with your ticket, I thought that was the best thing to do!”
Struggling to understand all what was happening, muttered,
“No, Tommy’s name is Wilson,”
But, on saying Wilson, became so excited, I continued with,
“He’s my best mate, we were always together, even in war.”
To stop and mumbled,
“War,”
Then,’ as I struggled to understand what I had just said’, heard,
“Goodness me, here comes that Porter again, with what looks like the Station Master!”
Turning, to look back the way he went, saw the young porter with another, walking towards us and as I began turning back to her, she whispered,
“What are we going to do?,”
Then looking me straight in the eye, she said,
“Don’t you have anything with your name on it?”
As I looked at her, muttered,
“They told me that it still was valid.”
To hear her quickly ask,
“Who told you?”
I looked away, then remembered the nurse, who had after making sure I was dressed properly, say,
“I have put your wallet in your hip pocket, you have a handkerchief in here,”
Tapping me on the breast coat pocket and as she handed me the ticket said,
“Here is your ticket for the train and don’t lose it, though it’s very old, it should still be valid.”
Goodness, that’s right, they said I was okay now and free to go home.
Then as if to try and avoid anymore questions, looked down at my hands, thinking it had been a long time. When saw they were old and wrinkly and feeling quite silly, turned to Mrs Billy Myers and sheepishly murmured,
“Goodness me I’m old, oh how things change, one minute I am looking for Tommy, to just now remember a nurse making sure I’m clean and tidy.”
She reached over and said,
“Quick, let me see if you have a wallet or something.” and before I could move, she quickly began feeling my pockets, to stop and looking up said,
“Sorry, but you have something in there.”
Then, quickly brushing my coat open, dived her hand into my hip pocket and pull out a wallet, then, through all this fluster, heard.
“Good Evening, sorry for the interruption, but could I ask you where you got this ticket from?”
I looked up, to see the porter standing there accompanied by someone else wearing a Cap and not knowing who asked the question, inquired,
“Excuse me?”
To see this chap wearing the cap, step forward and as he offered his hand, replied,
“I am terrible sorry, must be long hours, first, my name is Mr George Lewis and I am the Station Master. And, why I am here is, how or where, did you became in possession of this ticket?”
Probably because by now I had enough, growled,
“They told me the ticket had never been used, and was for the train, my mate, Tommy would be on.”
To hear him reply,
“Oh yes, the ticket has not been used, but I am very curious, because they stopped by our records, using those type of tickets fifty years ago and I believe it’s for a train the 437, an old coal fired steam locomotive, that stopped running this line some fifty years ago.”
On hearing 437, I became so happy, knowing now Tommy’s not far away, and blurted out,
“The Forty Niner, she is the midnight express, runs through to Brisbane every night. I am waiting for her now!”
To notice a curious look begin to form on his face, but before he could say anything more,
Mrs Myers again intervened by saying as she looked at me,
“Oh dear, you must be very tired?”
Then, looking up continued with,
“I’m sorry, but Mr Bradshaw has had a long day and if you don’t mind, I would like him to have some rest, so could I have his ticket back, please?”
And, with that held out her hand.
Completely confused by all this, I started to lean back, when saw the Station Master hesitated for a moment, then as he handed me back my ticket, said to Mrs Myers,
“Could I see your ticket please?”
For some reason, unable to resist, I watched as she rummaged around in her handbag, until with a smile, she handed her ticket across. He, with a quick glance, handed it back, then turning his attention back to me, said with a slight smile,
“Sir, I don’t know exactly the circumstances, surrounding your possession of that ticket. And, because it has never been punched, I shall let you use it. Though, if you leave this platform and want to return, you must purchase a current one, and now, I wish you both, a pleasant evening!”
And with that, gave a slight bow to us both, turned and began walking back up the platform. But no sooner had he gone several paces, when Mrs Myers turned to me and whispered,
“Oh, my poor dear, what has happened to you?”
By now having had enough of all this, closed my eyes and sensing I was going home, sighed as I remembered, the way we were.
Ah yes, there was romance, the steam locomotive brought a way of life. There were cinders in your eyebrows, up your nose, even between the cracks of your arse. We were the ones, coal ash donated where we slept in the tree. But what a life, you stole if you needed, fucked if you were horny and fought if you were bored.
I shovelled coal through the nights, to grow arms that bulged with muscles and veins, eyes that squinted in contempt and a saunter that allowed without fear, the freedom of the yard at night. We always were on the prowl for that special wagon. The one, that supplied us with the means, fine underwear in pretty boxes, the ticket to paradise. And, in the dark of night, softly moving fingers along tender thighs, could made dreams come true. Yes, once you lived on the tracks, you belonged to the steam locomotive.
