The Last Train From Scottsdale

Chapter Three

I left the Court House and headed back to the depot. The rain had diminished to a heavy mist as I passed the diner and gave Millie a wave. She looked up and blew me a kiss as I smiled back. Then she pointed at me with both of the hands and crossed her fingers, meaning 'Good Luck' . Touching my forefinger to my forehead, I acknowledged her wish and waved one last time before making it to the depot. I retrieved my bags and took my place back on the bench.


The old regulator clock struck one as the janitor swept the marble tiled floor in front of me. I realized too late that I should have bought a paperback, or, newspaper in town before coming back. The old news stand that stood at the entrance was devoid of papers. No one had probably bought any in the last year, so the route man quit dropping them off.


" Won't be the same. " The janitor said to his broom as he pushed it by me." I put thirty-eight years in this place, and now they're talkin' about tearin' it down."


That was a shock. This depot had been here all my life. " Why are they tearing it down?" I asked.


He gave a shrug for an answer and leaned on the worn handle." I guess they don't want any reminders of what they've done to me and this town. I remember when people flocked in to see somebody off, and meet somebody coming in." He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette, ignoring the 'No Smoking' sign by the door." Back during Viet Nam I was busy every day helping with bags and unloading coffins." He fired up the smoke with a kitchen match he lit with his thumbnail. Waving it out, he took a deep drag and let it out through his nose. " I could write a book on all the different people saying good-bye... some for the last time."


I remembered those years. I joined the Air Force back then, and they made me an MP, or as they called it, AP for Air Police; ' Apes ' the kids called us on base. I was lucky. Most of my time in service was stateside. But, I had friends who shipped out to ' Nam '. Some of them came home in boxes, like he said. Others, I met up with later, had changed from teenagers with dreams to bitter, resentful young men. It was a crazy time, with race riots, draft card burnings, and those escaping to Canada to ride out the war.


" What'll you do after they close it down?" I asked.


" Oh, I'll draw my pension and move down to St. Petersburg with my sister's family for awhile before I end up in a home somewhere." The matter of fact way he said it was as if he had been planning his end for some time.


A distant rumble outside, and a blast of the air horn announced the train's arrival. All of a sudden I realized I didn't know this man's name. He had worked here all those years and I had seen him probably countless times and never knew who he was. I stood up and put out my hand.


" I'm Lester Holbrook." I said." I've lived here most of my life and I've never got to know you."


The man smiled and took my hand in a firm grip." I've known you for many a year. I used to live across the street from you and your folks back when you were a pup in grade school. You and your brother raided my apple tree." He chuckled." Yessir, you two were good kids, though. I remember your mom baked me and my wife a Dutch Apple pie with the apples you stole."


It was then that I remembered his name: Howard Walters, and his wife, Lucy. They didn't have any children, and moved away to another part of town when I was in high school. Mom made David and me so ashamed of ourselves after we told her about the theft she made us take the pie over and tell them what we did. If that wasn't bad enough, Dad blistered our butts when he got some from work. David and I both never set foot in their yard again.


The train pulled in and I walked out to the platform. The conductor stepped down and placed a step under the doorway. " Are you the only passenger? " He asked. I nodded. " Go ahead and board. I'll get you your ticket once we're under way."


Thanking him, I boarded and shuffled down the aisle of worn seats in the old car, with only three other passengers. I heaved my bags onto the upper shelf and took a seat by the window. Gazing out of the rain flecked glass I saw Howard appear in the doorway leaning on his broom. I gave him a wave, and he nodded back. The train started to pull out and I saw the old man flip his cigarette into a puddle. Good-bye to you, chum. One last look and I settled in for the trip to Indianapolis.


The conductor came and I paid for my ticket. I asked if there was a dining car, and he said there were vending machines on board if I wanted a cup of coffee, or a cold drink. I made my way to the machines and got a cup of coffee. It was lousy, but, it was scalding hot. I carefully sipped it as I sat and watched the country side glide by.


The prospect of some police work gave this trip a whole new slant. Before visiting Frank's office I was feeling sorry for myself. All that I dreaded was gone now. I'd still have to contact the people who were expecting me to start work next week, and give them the bad news.


Three hours later, the train pulled into Union Station in the heart of Indianapolis. The old station had been renovated and there were shops and a restaurant that had a good crowd inside. I walked out to Meridian Street and hailed a passing taxi. Minutes later I checked into a hotel I'd stayed at before that was clean and cheap. I changed and left, looking for a place to fill my growling stomach. There was a deli that I had been to years ago and I tried to remember where it was. As I turned a corner, there it was, just as I remembered.


Inside, the aroma of coffee and delicious smells made my mouth water. I ordered a corn beef platter and the waiter brought it with a steaming cup of coffee. I wolfed down the sandwich and fries and was on my second cup of coffee when the door banged open and a kid carrying a shotgun bolted through. He ran up to the man behind the counter and leveled the gun.


" Empty the register! " he shouted. " Don't make any funny moves, or, I'll blast you!"


He seemed oblivious to me, even though he'd ran right past me. I carefully slid out of my booth and crept up behind him as the cashier was putting the money in a paper sack. In one movement I snatched the shotgun by the barrel and pulled it up toward the ceiling as I kicked the kid's feet out from under him. He let go of the gun to brace himself from the fall and I turned the gun on him.


" Don't try to get up." I said as I pointed the gun at his head. " Turn over and spread eagle." The kid's eyes nearly popped out as he looked down the barrel of his own gun, now aimed at him.


" Where the hell did you come from?" He growled as he rolled over onto his stomach.


" Scottie beamed me down when the Enterprise passed over." I said.


The police came in a few minutes and took him into custody. One of them,( Henderson, according to his name tag ), shook his head as he sized me up." That was a risky stunt you pulled." He said giving me the steely eye.


" You're right, " I agreed. " It was my instincts kicking in. I recently retired from the force. Old habits die hard. "


Officer Henderson asked for some ID, and I showed him my driver's license. I filled out a quick report, signed it and he dutifully placed it in a folder in his squad car. The kid, in handcuffs gave me a baleful look as the cruiser pulled into traffic and slipped away. The Deli manager was beaming a smile bigger than Texas as I walked back in.


" I'm very grateful to you, sir. " He said. " But, I don't know your name."


" Lester Holbrook." I said.


" Well, Mister Holbrook, I'm thankful you were here to stop him. We've been robbed twice in the last year. The last time there were two of them. " His mouth turned down in disgust as he told what happened." They tied us up Then, they pushed us into the walk-in and locked the door before they left. We were nearly frozen before I got free and forced the lock."


Officer Henderson's words of pulling a ,'risky stunt', echoed in my head. It's been my experiences at robberies that the perpetrator will have tunnel vision when he comes in, which was probably why the little geek didn't see me when he bolted into the deli. The perpetrator psych's himself up to do the job. When he's going through the door the adrenalin's pumping and the mind goes on automatic pilot. Mix that with whatever drug he's on and he'll make mistakes. If there'd been another 'perp' I wouldn't have left my seat.


The leaden feeling of fatigue began to wash over me as I came down from what happened. I really was getting too old to do this anymore. At least, right this minute I felt old. My hand shook as I finished my coffee, and I went to the register to pay my bill and get out of there. The manager wouldn't take my money.


" Mister Holbrook," He said." Your meal's on the house. Any time you're hungry you come back and I'll feed you free for as long as you want."


I thanked him and walked out to the sidewalk, where the foot traffic was starting to slacken. I made it back to the hotel and into my room. I laid down and was asleep before I knew it.