The train slowly got faster, so slowly, so fast

By Cade | Published: 11 January 2008

The train was so long, and so slow. Even though the engineer was in hurry to get going, it just seem to crawl, all these big metal boxes on rusty wheels, rattling, squeaking like they were all talking to each other: Here we go again. Come on. Come on. Watch out. Watch out.

Don’t let go. Don’t let go…   All of them with their own little sayings and catch phrases like birds chirping when the sun is about to come up.

Poppi was letting me ride on his shoulders. I was scared to be that high up and couldn’t understand how anybody could stand to be that tall without being afraid of falling so far down. But at the same time I felt completely secure because my poppi had me on his shoulders and squeezed my ankles like I’d seen him do the straps on his backpack. He kept me snug against the back of his neck. I could have leaned back and hung upside down dangling like a cape, which I liked to do all the time and probably would have done except the train had my attention.

Just us two on the road watched the train, one car, another car, another car, passing like days. They were slowly getting faster. Does that make sense? Slowly getting faster? After awhile you could tell the train was picking up speed, but just a little. It got faster so slowly that you couldn’t even notice it happening. One minute it’s going by just real, real slow and a few minutes later it’s like you wake up and they are moving by maybe twice as fast. But they’re still real slow.

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