Where He's At

By Darrin Atkins

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 7, 2000
• ISBN: 9781469102429

Darrin Atkins

Darrin Atkins was raised in Stockton, California. He graduated from the University of the Pacific in 1993 and then studied in a Ph.D. Program in Social Psychology at the University of Nevada. He has worked at Premiere magazine, Nevada magazine, the Reno Gazette-Journal, Investor’s Business Daily and The Record. “You Always Lose” is his fourth book.

Book preview

PART ONE

1

Leaving Town

Henry loved train stations at night. There was something about them that really appealed to him and he wondered if it was simply the romanticism of it all, the excitement of going anywhere and meeting all kinds of people and setting off on a long interesting journey. Whatever it was, he couldn’t get enough of it and so he found himself once again down at the station, the one south of the cross-town freeway, and it was close to midnight. This time he would actually buy a ticket and leave for good.

He was all alone except for the ticket seller. Henry stood in front of the large destination map on the wall outside that showed all the possible trips throughout California, the different trains and circuits, the colorful depots, and the linkages from one stop to another. Soon he would be on his way and all his troubles would be over. He was bound for glory somewhere and the right train would surely take him there. He could start a new life and forget about his past, forget all the troubles and conflicts he had had in Stockton.

There was a quiet stillness in his life and he didn’t understand it at all. He certainly seemed happy and the thrill of setting off somewhere definitely appealed to him. There was an urgency for him to leave as soon as possible but he didn’t know where this came from. He stood on the dull brown wooden boards up on the platform and smelled the faint odor of cigarette smoke from the butts that littered the area nearby. All he had to do was decide on where to go but the unlimited opportunities on the map in front of him made it difficult. He had hardly ever been out of the city but he had heard stories about what life was like elsewhere and he knew he just had to see for himself.

The bag beside him had always been with him and as he glanced down at it he recalled how often he had used it and all the times he had packed it with all his stuff when he had just wanted to move away. But sure enough he had chickened out at the last moment and had not had the courage to go. The one piece of luggage was opened again and all the contents returned to their proper place in the closet and in the dresser drawers.

Now things were different though he couldn’t explain why. Somehow he had gotten over his trepidation and had decided with a certain finality that it was time to move on and get away from the past. Maybe something was pushing him away or maybe he was being lured away by the excitement of other places. He couldn’t tell for sure. He knew he had plenty of money. He had all the clothes he would need wherever he ended up. And he had brought certain tokens from his past that he couldn’t do without. He had wanted to leave everything behind and start over completely but his heart and mind wouldn’t allow it. Some things could not be left because they had become a part of him.

He looked hard at the map in front of him as a cool breeze brushed by. It was time to make a decision and he knew it. The importance of the choice did not escape him but slowly he felt a sense of confidence build within himself and he knew that he would make the right choice and things would turn out well. All this he knew for a fact. In a sense the decision had already been made and it was the right one and fate was on his side and would help him and guide him.

The light from a single lamppost above the station shined onto the glass that covered the map and Henry could see his reflection in it. It did not click in his mind that he was forty years old now, that his life had slipped by so quickly, that his vigorous youth was gone for good. It hardly seemed possible that the crows feet under his eyes had formed and were now a permanent reminder of his lost youth. His brown sideburns were thin and a far cry from the thickness and bright color of his younger days. A hint of gray was obvious though he tried not to think about it and knew that this was simply denial on his part. He was quite cynical and jaded about life and his heart had hardened from false hopes and the cold ways of the bureaucracy and viciousness of business tactics where he had been employed.

He smiled because smiling always made him feel better. Henry still had all of his teeth and they were in excellent condition. He took pride in them and always flossed and brushed them nearly to the point of obsession. Maybe his clothes weren’t new and maybe his hair wasn’t perfectly trimmed but his teeth were fine and he could smile and make even the most distant, cold strangers feel comfortable and welcome. He knew he had personality and sometimes that is all he needed to get through the day, to have people extend a helping hand, to get some time alone with a decent woman, to make a child feel better about life. A warm smile was a valuable commodity.

He needed to make a decision because the trains would be coming soon. The Coast Starlight was a certainty and he knew that he would take that one but it seemed to be so nice and thrilling that he just had to save it for later. Henry wanted to take his time and relax and kick back and enjoy the ride. There was no need to be in a hurry because the important thing in life, he had learned, was the journey and not the destination. Maybe that was a worn-out expression but it still rang true to him.

People had told him as much before many times but only recently had it truly hit him. That is because it takes a lot of mileage in life to learn certain things and appreciate them. It made more sense now because he didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know his destination, didn’t have a clue really about what he was planning for the rest of his life. He just knew that he wanted to be going somewhere and wanted to have a train take him there. A train, an exciting train.

What happened to your arm? questioned the ticket seller after Henry had approached the window.

What do you mean? asked Henry as he examined his body and noticed the bandages for the first time.

Right there, the old man with a stained white dress shirt said as he pointed to Henry’s left arm. People who work graveyard shifts are curious sometimes and often just want to talk. This man was no different and he had seen so many people come and go that he liked to ponder on their lives and imagine untold possibilities. He liked to get to know a little bit about everybody.

Looks like a burn of some kind, replied Henry.

Seems pretty bad. Hope it doesn’t hurt.

Can’t say I remember how it happened. Henry was baffled but for some reason it didn’t seem like a big deal because surely if it was something important then his memories of it would be salient and fresh. They weren’t so he looked back at the old man.

How can I help you? the ticket seller asked.

I’d think I’d like the San Joaquin train. Do you have one coming in soon?

The next one’ll be here at one-o-seven a.m.

Does it go to San Francisco?

Certainly. The old man with the terribly wrinkled forehead had heard these questions hundreds of times and now could almost predict what someone would ask and when they would ask it during the conversation. He was a nice man and always liked to give people the best rates. You’re in luck. It’s a Tuesday, well Wednesday now since it’s after midnight, but either way you get the better rate because it’s during the week.

Does it go directly there?

There’s a stopover in Oakland for a short while. Good time to step out and walk around.

Sounds right. I’ll take it. It was the easiest decision Henry had ever made. In fact, it hardly seemed like a decision at all.

We’ve got a special this week. This was a lie but the old man loved the sound of the phrase. I’ll give you a break. This last part was true because he always had a little discretion and was never