6 of 12 On the Evening Train

[KB.]

This leads into "I Came to Believe".

On The Evening Train

Patrick looked at Kate; she looked like a ghost; she seemed empty. He was too late. He saw she had packed a bag, and that she had been crying. He was lost; he had no idea what he could do; the torment of what he had done pulled at him like an over eager plow horse. She told him she was going back home; she just couldn’t do it any longer. He showed her the letter that John Henry had written, and tried to tell her it would be okay. She shook her head; and looked at him like a stranger. He had finally undone the right. He asked her about their son, and she told him that he would be coming with her back to Georgia; it would all work out, after she read the letter she knew she was doing the right thing. She could make sure John got back home okay.

Patrick turned around as their son walked in; he was only four years old but he had already been through so much. His poor little heart needed to be fixed; the money was running out and he had to stay on his medicine for a few more years before he would be strong enough to have the surgery. The little man’s eyes were red from crying; he ran to Patrick and hugged his legs hard. He held on like it was his only chance to keep from going under. Patrick kneeled down and hugged him back with the same thoughts in his own head.

Wil looked at his daddy, with all the innocence a four year old could muster. He saw his daddy’s eyes and they looked just like his own tiny green eyes felt. Dry and wet at the same time, red and sad. His Moma had tried her best to explain to him that they were leaving tomorrow; and that his dad wasn’t leaving with them. He didn’t understand; he only knew his heart was hurting more than it usually did. She told them they were leaving on a train. He loved trains, and had always wanted to ride on one. He always wanted to ride on one with his daddy though; and if his daddy wasn’t going to be there he had decided he wasn’t going to go either. His Moma had told him he had to go, and he always did what Moma said.

Patrick sat down on the floor of their bedroom, and looked into his son’s eyes. They looked so sad and confused. They looked like he felt. Patrick looked over at Kate and wanted to hate her, wanted to tell her good riddance, but he knew he couldn’t even begin to mean it; and he also knew she would know he was lying through his teeth. He looked at his little man, and wiped a stray tear from his son’s cheek. He took Wil’s face in his hands and looked him straight in his confused eyes. “You have to be strong little man; I won’t be around to take care of you and your Moma. That’s all on you know. So you dry those tears up, and wipe your nose. “You get to ride on a train, and when you get back to your Grandma’s house you can call me and tell me about it. I know you wanted me there when you finally got to ride one, but when you tell me about how the ride was it will be just like I was with you. “Promise me Wil; promise me you will keep that little heart strong for you and your Moma. Patrick watched his son take his pajama shirt and wipe his little nose. Then he balled his little hands into fists that looked far too strong for a four year old and wiped his red eyes.

Wil looked up at his dad, wiped his nose and eyes; and with a conscious only an innocent could posses he thought about what he had been asked to do. “I’ll take care of us daddy; I promise I will. I’ll make granny let me use the phone when we get there, and I’ll tell you all about the train, even how the whistle sounds. I know you love the noise the whistle makes. “Go on back to bed Wil, I love you and always will. I promise I will come see you soon Patrick hugged his son once again and patted his dinosaur patterned pajama covered behind as he ran back to his room.

Patrick looked over at Kate; she had her head buried in the pillow like some distraught ostrich. He stood up, walked over to her, and whispered in her ear that he was so very sorry. He kissed her on the top of her head. As Patrick walked out the door back into the rain he thought he heard her call his name. It was his imagination; everything he would hear that night would sound like her calling his name. He wasn’t vain; he just heard hope in the rain.

Kate watched as her man; troubled always walked out of the door and back into the wet night. She couldn’t manage these problems by herself. She needed a stronger, a higher power. Nothing worked out when she tried to handle it alone. She walked into Wil’s room, and saw he had finally given out; he was fast asleep. His breathing was still stuttered. The poor boy had cried so much tonite. Kate thought about the man who this boy was so much like; and she thought that a man should not lose hope every day.



KB

[Peg]

I started reading on part 3, stayed up past my bedtime to read part 5, skipped reading my email to read part 6. I have a very busy day and night planned, but now I HAVE to read parts 1 & 2. Keep them coming KB. :-4