Locomotive to the Past by George Schultz (iphone ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“Mrs. Atkinson? Please! Listen! I didn’t want to get into this… don’t want to get into this, at all! But, there’s been this… y’see… there’s been a good bit of trouble! Trouble… at home! My mother and I… well, we don’t… we don’t, sometimes, quite see eye-to-eye! And, it turns out that there was… there was all this real unpleasantness! And, you know, I… I just… I… well, let’s just say… just say, that I don’t live there anymore. It all came down… all came down . . . all of a sudden! Came up, all of a sudden… and I… well, I… I just… I can’t…”

“It all came down? Came down? I’ve never heard that expression before.”

Jason was suddenly reminded—that he was going to have to really watch his vernacular! Watch it—very carefully! There must be hundreds—maybe thousands, maybe tens-of-thousands—of words, and phrases, that were indigenous, to the 21st century. Or even the late 20th century. Words—and expressions—that would be totally unheard of, in the early-forties. He was going to have to avoid them! Steer clear of them—like the proverbial “plague”!

“It’s something that… well, sometimes… something that we say. Down home, we… ah… say that. From time to time, y’know.”

He was beginning to panic, once again. And, maybe, sweat! Perspire—way too much! All of this—the possibility, of living in this wonderful house, with this gorgeous lady, and her family—was evaporating! Disintegrating—before his very eyes!

His eyes—the “old optics”, that were brimming, once again, with tears! Real tears! Many of them! Those tears were coming! Overtaking him—fast and furious! The dam, then, finally burst! They cascaded—down both cheeks! He was not sobbing! Or crying! It was more silently weeping—than anything else! Try as he might, the young man could not control, the emotional avalanche, of moisture—that continued to coat his face!

“Listen,” said Susan—her voice soft enough, that it appeared to surprise even her, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Look here. It’ll be a few hours before my husband… before Eric… before he gets home. I’ll take it up… with him. But, let me tell you. If he says no . . . then, no it is! It’ll be… completely… out of my hands. And I’ve got to tell you that… well… your… uh… your circumstance . . . it doesn’t look to be real authentic, if you want to have me put it that way. But, one way or another, we’ll leave it up to… leave it up to… up to Eric.”

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Atkinson. I hope . . . I really hope… I hope that you’ll put in… put in, a good word . . . for me! Show me… in the best light! The best… that’s possible, you know! I’ll… I would really appreciate it! I really don’t want to have to… to have to fight, anymore! I’m all ‘fought-out’! I really need to have someplace! Someplace… good!” He did his best to absorb the tears—with his shirt sleeve. “Someplace.” he continued, “that’s… that’s, a place… well… someplace that’s wholesome. Someplace really wonderful! Like this place! I really need a place! Just like this one! A real place! A genuine place! To live! And, to begin… begin a new life, and everything! I just need to…”

“Jason? Listen, Jason! I’m going to ask you this question. And I’m going to want you to be completely honest with me! Straight-forward-honest with me! I’m going to insist that you answer me… in complete and total honesty! If I ever find out, that you’re lying to me… lying, about this question, that I’m about to ask you… then, you will have made me an enemy! An enemy… for life! Now, I want you to look at me! Look me… in the eye! Straight in my eyes! Look at me… right in my eye! And answer me this question! Answer it… truthfully! The full truth! Tell me, Jason. Are you just getting out of jail? Is that your reason, for all this… ?”

“NO! No! No, Mrs. Atkinson! No! Never! Please believe me! I swear to you… by all I hold holy . . . I swear to you! I promise you that… NO! I’ve never been in jail! Ever! Not in my entire life! Not ever! NO! Nothing even close! NO! No, Ma’am! I haven’t! Never!”

He couldn’t tell—if she was buying, what amounted to his emotional tirade.

Her “jailbird” question had totally come out of left field—another expression that, he imagined, he’d be unable to use, in his for-better-or-for-worse, new venue!

If Jason was unsettled by what was taking place (and he was—plainly) he could only imagine how agitated his hoped-for landlady was becoming. On the other hand, she must’ve been blest—with some kind of poker face. A very beautiful poker face. He was at a total loss! He couldn’t tell exactly what she was thinking. Not the slightest inkling! Maybe it was just as well.

“I’ve never been arrested! Never tried… or convicted… of anything,” he tried to solidify his case. His voice was quivering—badly! “Never been hauled into a police station! Don’t know what the inside would even look like! Never caught shoplifting! Or even skipping school! Ever! Not in my entire life! You can search from…”

“Okay! OKAY! I guess . . . I believe you. Still, you’ve kind of put me… put me between the devil, and the deep blue sea, Jason. I mean… these things, that you’ve told me… all of these things, that you’ve just told me… well, they’re just not… just not… just not… not totally plausible! Not completely . . . not really, completely, believable! Not to me . . . anyway! But, we’ll wait! We’ll wait until Eric . . . until Mister Atkinson… until he comes home. Then, we’ll just have to see! Wait… and see… see what happens.”

The afternoon seemed endless, for Jason. Seemed? It was endless, for Jason. Only once did he get up, from that chair in the corner—and he’d been embarrassed, to ask Susan Atkinson where the bathroom was. He had promised—during his impassioned plea, to be able to live, at this beautiful home—to always