Railroad
By Ed Carlson
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This story is purely fictitious. The names used herein are for character
identification and should not be construed as real people, alive or dead.
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Chapter 1
I really hated getting up on days like this. It was drizzling rain, and a wind was blowing that drove the cold right through you. The alarm clock didn’t show a lot of patience for me though. My feet hit the cold floor. I took the three steps to the end of the bed to reach the little rascal sitting on the dresser. Even before I did my morning chores and bladder emptying from all night and the beer before, I turned up the thermostat in the living room. I heard the furnace make its little initial ‘whoosh’ as it started warming up the heat exchanger. I made my way to the bathroom and the warmth of the overhead heat lamp. It’s times like this that I enjoy the thinning of my once thick head of hair. I believe it’s called male pattern baldness.
I had just concluded my teeth brushing when the furnace kicked on in all its glory. I finished the rest of my morning ritual in the relative warmth of the bathroom. By the time I was finished, the bedroom was almost a tolerable temperature. I found my clean underwear and clean work clothes. They were the same clothes that I had worn for years. A plaid shirt, blue jeans, and work boots completed the ensemble. I would add the Carhartt bib overalls and the hat once I got to work.
I had the same cereal for breakfast that I had eaten yesterday and the day before that for the last five years now—the five years since my wife left with the guy who once was my best friend. The divorce was swift, though mentally painful; it wasn’t financially painful. It’s his turn to take care of her gambling problem now. At least we can still talk to one another civilly. I’m glad that no physical violence was part of the scene. I can’t stand the sight of blood, especially my own.
I put the bowl in the sink with the rest of the week’s dishes. It was Thursday, and soon it would be time to wash the dishes. I’m in to long-term soaking.
The car made its usual objections to being started after sitting all night in the cold. It finally coughed to life for the half hour drive to the railyard. I pulled out for the uneventful drive. I stopped at the café for another cup of coffee and my lunch bucket. Betty also filled my big thermos. We made some small talk, and she jokingly asked me when I was going to ask her for a date. Even though she only joked about it, I thought she might be kind of fun to spend some time with.
I got back in the car and finished my drive to the railyard. John, my fireman, pulled in just as I got out of my car. I waited for him, and we walked over to the locker room.
“I hear that we have a new brakeman today,” he said. “Or should I say, a new brakewoman?”
“The term is still brakeman,” I said. “Donna has been around railroading for a long time according to her file that dispatch sent me. She was one of the first women to work as a crewman when affirmative action started. She has over ten years of seniority.”
“The word around is that she only has one arm,” John said.
“The file only said special affirmative action. That usually means a disability of some type, but it didn’t specify,” I replied.
“If my source is correct, I wonder how she lost her arm?” John asked.
“I don’t know; the file didn’t say. You’ll have to ask her,” I replied as I finished putting on my overalls.
We walked out of the men’s dressing room and into the office. Donna was waiting on the bench when John and I walked in. She looked up and smiled. Her blond hair in the short ponytail that stuck through the railroad baseball cap helped to show off her brilliant blue-green eyes. She stood up as we walked over. Her breasts did wonders for the bib overalls that she was wearing. She was quite tall and had knockout looks.
“Good morning,” she said as she stuck out her right hand to shake mine. “I’m Donna.”
“Good morning. I’m Bill, and this is our fireman, John,” I said as I shook her firm hand.
She extended her hand to John, and for the first time, I saw her hook hanging out of the left sleeve of her plaid wool shirt.
“Welcome to our crew,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied. “What’s on our schedule today?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes they change things on us up here,” I replied as we started walking toward the dispatcher office.
“It wasn’t that way down south. I was on a train that did the same route day after day. I can drop coal cars in my sleep,” she said.
“This time of year there’s a lot of wheat moving around; that’s probably what we’ll get,” I said as we walked into the dispatcher’s office.
The dispatcher looked up from his desk and said: “Good morning Bill, John. I see you’ve found your new crew member.”
“Oh yes,” I replied. “Donna introduced herself to us already. What do you have for us today?”
“Well, it’s the season,” he said. “Wheat is on your agenda. You three can chase cars from the elevators and back to the yard today.”
“That works for me,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “Hank and Joe are going to take the overnight run to the coast.”
“I’m glad that you didn’t want us to do it,” John interjected. “My wife doesn’t like me to be gone overnight at all. She pitched a fit last time it happened.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t have anyone waiting for me,” I said.
“I’m available too,” Donna said with a sigh. “I don’t have anyone waiting for me either.”
“Donna, are you certified for fireman?” the dispatcher asked.
“Yes, I picked up my certification at the first of the year,” she replied. “I haven’t had a chance to use it though. There were always guys with more seniority ahead of me down on the south division.”
“Well, you might just get a shot at it up here,” he replied.
“That would be great,” she beamed.
He handed me the sheaf of orders for the day. I briefly thumbed through them, then we left the office. We started across the yard for our engine. It was sitting there idling. The overnight maintenance crew had washed it, as well as done the scheduled routine maintenance and fueling. It was ready to go.
The three of us climbed up into the cab. It felt good to be in a nice warm place. I had just settled into my seat when the dispatcher’s voice came booming across the radio. I answered him, and we all went back into the dispatcher’s office as he requested.
“What’s up?” I questioned.
“I just got a call from Hank. He and Joe were in a little fender bender on the way in. They’re going to be tied up at least an hour with the paperwork and police investigation,” he said.
“Were they hurt?” Donna asked in a panicked voice before I could get the question out.
“No. They’re fine,” he replied, looking down at her hook which she had resting on the counter. “Just some sore necks.”
“I shudder every time I think of car wrecks,” she said.
She turned and walked over to the window. Her elbow stayed bent, but her whole arm swung down as if it were hinged at the shoulder.
“I’m going to want you to take the coast run,” he said. “I need two of you.”
“I’ll be odd man out,” John said almost instantly. “My wife would kill me if I went.”
“It looks like it’s you and me,” I said to Donna.
“I’m good to go,” she said. “I’d like John to check me out on the engine first though.”
“Do you have an overnight bag?” I questioned.
“I normally don’t,” she said. “But a little bird told me that I should carry one in my car, so I did.”
“Good,” the dispatcher said. “John, you wait here then. You can be a brakeman today when Hank and Joe get here.”
“That’s OK,” John replied. “I could use the exercise. Besides, that way I don’t have to put up with my wife’s bitching.”
“Come on,” Donna joked. “She can’t be that bad.”
“I’m afraid John’s right,” I interjected. “I’ve seen her in action. She can really get on his case.”
Donna went out to get her bag. When she came back, she had it locked in her shiny steel hook where her left hand should be. She and John walked out to the engine. I stayed back with the dispatcher.
“How did she lose her arm?” I asked.
“A car wreck,” the dispatcher said. “She lost her husband and son too.”
“Recently?” I asked.
“Before she came to work for the railroad,” he replied. “She got on as an affirmative action trainee. She has a great work record and is sharp too.”
“Boy, she’s sharp in more ways than one,” I replied.
“Careful,” he cautioned. “Remember, these are the days of rampant sexual harassment charges. Don’t let yourself get caught up in one.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said. “You know working in a male dominated environment, you tend to forget all those classes.”
I picked up my new sheaf of orders and started for the door. “See you tomorrow afternoon,” I said. “Thanks for the reminder.”
He looked up and gave me a wink. I closed the door and walked to my car and got my overnight bag that I keep at the ready. I locked the car and walked around the building to the engine. John and Donna were just finishing up.
“Well, how’d she do?” I asked.
“I’m going to have to look out for my job. She has this thing all figured out. I’m sure that she’ll do just fine,” John said. “You need to keep an eye on that rear fan bearing though.”
“It’s sounding a little rough,” Donna said. “We both think it will make the run OK. But we should have maintenance change it when we get back.”
I looked at John, and he nodded his head.
“As long as you both think we can make it. I don’t want to get up on the pass a million miles from nowhere and be stranded with a broken down engine,” I said.
“You should be OK,” John said. “I’ll see you two the day after tomorrow.”
“Bye John,” Donna said. “Thanks for the check out.”
“Glad I could do it,” he replied.
“See you in a couple of days,” I said. “You take care now.”
“This will be fun seeing how another crew works,” he replied. He turned and walked away.
“He really wanted to go, didn’t he?” she said.
“Yes. John and I go back a long way,” I lamented. “His wife would let him go if he’d ask. He likes to be home with her and his son.”
“I can remember what it used to be like to go home to a family,” she said as her eyes became moist.
Donna and I got up into the engine, and I stowed my bag. I saw her bag in the compartment too.
“Let’s go get a load,” I said.
Donna looked through the orders. “It looks like it’s made up on track number twelve,” she said.
I radioed dispatch and asked for clearance to track twelve. He radioed back, and I slowly started the engine out of the maintenance area. We came to the first turnout.
“You’re going to have to do switches,” I said.
“No problem,” she said. “That’s my job.”
She got up from the fireman’s seat and put on her glove. I watched her as she pulled it on using her hook. She looked over and saw me watching. She smiled and said: “I get a deal on gloves. I only need to buy one.”
“They come in pairs,” I joked. “What do you do with the other one?”
“I have a friend who lost her right hand,” she replied.
Donna had a big grin on her face as she went out to the front of the engine. She climbed down the ladder where I could see her and threw the heavy lever on the switch stand. She had to really lean into it to make it work. Once she had it done, she waved me through. I slowly moved the engine through the turnout and waited for her to change the turnout back. She got on the rear of the engine and was standing where I could see her. I started for the storage yard. The engine was already turned the right way so we didn’t have to go through the wye. We continued backing onto the top of the yard tree. I slowed to a crawl as we started through the group of turnouts until we reached number twelve. I stopped the engine. Donna got off, turned the handle, and then got back on the rear of the engine. I slowly applied power to the engine, and we started to back down to the cars. Donna signaled a slowdown and then a stop as we gently nudged the waiting string of cars. The engine was stopped when Donna disappeared between the cars. I knew she had the glad hand connected when air brake pressure dropped. She appeared again and signaled a go-ahead with her good arm. The arm with the hook hung lifelessly at her side. I released the air brakes; then with the engine slightly revved, I slowly applied power to the driving motors. The train began to move ahead slowly. Donna was scanning the cars with the end of train device as I pulled slowly by. When the final car passed her, she signaled for a stop. I killed the power and gently applied a little brake, and the train came to a stop. Donna had disappeared from sight again as she fixed the end of train device. She reappeared, then threw the turnout bar and started walking back to the engine. While I waited, I scanned the manifests and our schedule. We were hauling wheat and were scheduled to be at the elevator at 6:00 p.m. I was almost startled when Donna opened the door behind me.
“Fifty-eight cars,” she said.
“That’s what the manifest says,” I replied.
“We’re good to go then,” she said, taking the fireman’s seat and turning so she could watch the rear of the train.
I released the brakes and applied power slowly. The train took all of the slack out from between the cars and began to slowly move ahead. I looked over at Donna who was intently watching the cars behind us. Her hook was hanging lifelessly at her side. She must have sensed I was watching her because she turned to me and flashed a smile. I smiled back, then turned my attention to the track ahead. Soon we cleared the yard, and I took us up to posted speed. I radioed the dispatcher that we had cleared the yard.
The ride to the base of the pass was pretty uneventful and boring. Just prairie, then more prairie, and then after that, more prairie. I had Donna take the controls while I went into the little room and used the portapotty. Knowing that I was just going to be right around the corner, I just showed her the very basics. When I came back, I went over more of the gauges and switches. She caught on quickly and had good questions.
I took over as we approached the staging yard. The remote electrical-thrown turnout was turned for us, and we pulled onto a team track. I slowed down to almost a crawl and stopped well back of the next turnout. Donna got out and uncoupled the cars, then I pulled to the other side of the turnout and stopped our lone engine. I got out and walked with Donna over to the two waiting engines idling on the siding. The yardmaster came out, and I introduced him to Donna. The poor old fellow had a hard time looking her in the eye. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stare at her nice breasts or her shiny steel hook.
I signed for the engines, and we walked over to them. Donna rode on the rear step of the last engine in a position where I could see her. I slowly started backing the helper engines down the track. I stopped at the turnout while Donna turned the switch lever. I eased the two engines through the turnout and waited for Donna to turn the switch. She got on the rear of the engines and signaled me back. I continued backing until she signaled stop. Her timing was perfect. The couplers just made contact enough to close properly.
I got down from the helper engine and walked back to where Donna was just finishing attaching the glad hand for the air brakes for the cars. She looked up and smiled when she saw me. We walked toward our lead engine.
“You’ve got a good touch with those cars,” I complimented.
“Thanks,” she replied with a big smile. “I’ve worked hard to learn the timing.”
“You’re doing great,” I said.
I climbed up to the cab, and Donna stood on the rear step. I backed the engine down to the helper engines. Donna signaled stop just as the engines touched just enough to close the couplers. Donna disappeared between the engines. I got out to help her make the connections. By the time I got back there, she had the air brake lines hooked up and was struggling with one of the large electrical connectors. She had her hook clamped onto the large cable and was using her good hand to try to hold the spring loaded cap on the engine up at the same time she tried to get the oversize electrical coupling inserted. I guided the coupling while she held the spring cap. We used the same technique on the other connectors.
When we finished the hookup, we started back for the lead cab. I stopped and opened the door to the compartment with the noisy fan bearing. She pointed at the noisy bearing with her gloved hand. The bearing was right next to the big spinning fan. We closed the door and continued on up to the cab.
“What do you think about that bearing?” she said when we were inside where it was quieter.
“You two told me that we could make it,” I said. “I’m counting on your know-how. If you don’t think we can make it, I’ll see if the yardmaster has a spare engine.”
“I think it will hold,” she said.
I smiled and nodded and applied a little power, and the train started out. I radioed the dispatcher, and the team track turnout was thrown remotely. I continued on, slowly picking up speed as we moved out to the main line. I radioed the dispatcher when we had cleared the last turnout and the train was fully on the main line. We gained speed up to the posted limits for freight trains. It made quite a difference to have the two extra engines on behind us.
Donna was sitting in the fireman’s seat and facing forward now. She was keeping watch on the cars behind by looking in the rear view mirror. Her hook was resting on the table in plain view. I was quite fascinated by it and the way the long steel split hook was bent. It was different from other hooks I had seen. She looked over at me and smiled. I returned the smile, then got back to the business of driving the train.
We started up the pass. I caught a yellow light and reduced my speed. I called the dispatcher on the radio, and he said that an eastbound empty was pulling onto the right team track, and that we were going to the left. Donna nodded when she heard what he said. The other engine was stopped by the time we passed him, and of course, we waved. By the time we got to the far turnout, dispatch had moved the turnout in our favor remotely.
The grade had increased, and we were starting to pull harder. My stack temperature gauges went up, but I kept them in a safe operating temperature. All three of our engines were blowing black diesel smoke. We went through several small tunnels before we crested the summit. The train was running easier now, and the scenery had changed drastically. We were now riding through a dense forest of coastal evergreen trees and no longer in the pines. The air felt different too. We were out of the dry interior air and into the cool damp coastal air. Donna appeared to be enjoying the ride.
The rest of the trip was pretty much uneventful. We pulled into the grain terminal yard right on time. We had our overnight bags when we went into the yardmaster’s office. One of the crew brought in the end of train device, and I signed us out. We were scheduled to take the return trip at eight a.m. the next day. We walked out onto the front step of the yardmaster’s office.
“Well, now what’s the plan?” Donna asked.
“I usually stay at that motel over there,” I said. “They have an account with the railroad, and we can just sign for the rooms. The beds are nice and firm. You’re off work now and can do anything you want as long as you’re here in time to head out in the morning.”
“I’d kinda like to stick with you, if you don’t mind,” she said.
We walked over to the motel, then into the lobby and to the reception desk. I rang the bell. A young looking desk clerk came out of a back room.
“One or two rooms?” he asked.
Donna looked at me and smiled. I smiled back.
“Two rooms,” I replied. “Railroad account.”
He passed us two registration cards. He stared at Donna’s hook when she steadied the card as she filled it out. He stared even more when she held out her hook and took the key. She was chuckling to herself as we walked to our rooms.
“What’s so funny?” I asked as we walked.
“I love doing that to people that stare at my hook,” she replied. “It really unnerves them when they hand me something like that and I take it with my hook.”
We had reached our rooms. Both of the doors were side by side.
“I’m going to take a shower and get cleaned up,” I said.
“Do you want me to wash your back?” she joked.
“Yes, but it’s probably not that good of an idea,” I said.
“Well, you can’t blame a poor one-armed girl for trying,” she said with a big smile on her face.
“I’m going to have a couple of beers before I have dinner,” I said.
“I’d like to join you, if I could,” she said.
“I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready,” I said.
“I’ll be ready when you are,” she said.
We both went into our rooms. ‘God, I’d like to get in her pants,’ I thought to myself. I stripped off my work clothes and spread out on the bed and relaxed for a minute. I heard the shower start next door. I tried to imagine her standing there totally nude with the stump of her arm exposed. I didn’t have much trouble with my imagination.
I got up and took a shower. I ran it quite a bit colder than I usually do. I got out, dried off, and shaved. This time I even used a little aftershave. I got dressed and finished getting ready. I grabbed a light jacket and went outside. I knocked on her door.
“Come on in; it’s open,” she called.
I opened the door and went in. The first thing I noticed was her prosthetic arm lying on the bed. I shut the door behind me.
“I’ll be right out,” she called from the bathroom.
“Take your time,” I replied.
I took the opportunity to thoroughly examine the arm lying there on the bed. It was almost like it was calling me. It was pretty beaten up and looked like it had seen a lot of rough action.
“That’s my work arm,” she said, poking her head out of the bathroom.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to stare,” I replied.
I turned and looked at her. She was standing there looking in the closet and providing me a profile view. She had on tight blue jeans and a white tee shirt that left part of her stomach exposed seductively. Her well-developed breasts made the tee shirt stand out away from her midsection. Her hair was down and fell around her shoulders. When she looked toward me, I could see that she had put on makeup and looked gorgeous. She stepped back into the bathroom for a second. I was able to catch my breath. When she came back out, she walked over to me. I could see just how short her arm was for the first time. I estimated that her arm ended about half the distance between her shoulder and where her elbow had been.
“Donna, you look great” was all I could say.
“I didn’t want you to be ashamed of me,” she said very seductively.
“Ashamed of you is the last thing I’d be,” I replied.
“Did you get my arm figured out?” she asked.
“Not completely,” I said. “I didn’t think that the shoulder harness would be that heavy.”
“Like I said before, this is my work arm,” she replied. “I had this one designed for working around the railroad. This one weighs about three times as much as my other one and has a specially designed shoulder harness that allows me to keep the arm on when it’s over my head. We chose a hook terminal device that would let me lock around a grab rail on the train. I had them put a heavier rubber band on the hook. I can lock on and hold myself up by just the arm if need be.”
“Is it harder to work then?” I asked.
“Yes, but I’m used to it,” she said. “Sometimes when I’m wearing my other arm, I forget and slam the hook open.”
“How do you open and close the hook?” I asked.
“This harness goes around my right shoulder,” she said. “When I hunch my right shoulder forward, the hook opens, and when I relax, the hook closes. It’s hard to pry the two halves of the hook apart now, but with that heavy rubber band off, they practically fall open.”
“I think I understand,” I said. “Did you notice that the cable was frayed?”
“Yes, I need to take it to the shop just as soon as we get back. I’m kind of worried about it breaking. I’ll give you a demonstration in the morning,” she said. “Twenty questions is over until you buy me a beer. Besides, I want to hear all about you.”
“OK, let’s go,” I replied. “You might want to bring a jacket. It could get a little chilly after a while.”
“I didn’t bring one,” she said. “I’ll be all right.”
We left her room and walked down the street to the tavern that I usually frequent when I’m in town. We chose a quiet booth. She sat so that what was remaining of her left arm was against the wall. The bartender took our order and quickly brought us each two large mugs of beer.
“Who goes first?” I asked.
“You go first. I explained about Betsy,” she said, pointing to where her left elbow should be.
“Well, not too much to tell,” I said. “I went to work with the railroad right after high school. I started on the track-laying crew and then went into maintenance. I bid on a conductor’s job and got it. I moved up to brakeman, then fireman. I studied hard and made engineer. My wife left me five years ago, and I can retire any time, but if I wait another three years, I’ll have my thirty.”
“What kind of hobbies do you have?” she asked.
“I like photography and playing around on the Internet with my computer,” I said. “I like a good fishing trip, but I’m not ‘in’ to hunting.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.
“No, not now,” I replied.
“Good,” she said. “Then I have a chance.”
“No, you don’t,” I said.
“It’s because of this, isn’t it?” she said defensively as she raised her stump of an arm.
“No, I’d still like you if you lost the other one too,” I said.
“Don’t even say that!” she snapped. “It was bad enough losing this one. I don’t know what I would do if I lost the other one. I’d be totally helpless. Sometimes I have nightmares about being armless.”
“I’m sorry. I said the wrong thing,” I apologized. “I should have said that the company has some very stiff rules about two employees, especially on the same crew, seeing one another. In these days of political correctness and sexual harassment suits, I won’t take the chance. And the last thing I would wish on you is to lose your other arm.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I can see where you’re coming from, but the President did it.”
“That’s the President. I’m just a lowly railroad engineer. Let me say that if you weren’t a railroad employee and I weren’t your supervisor, I’d be camped on your doorstep,” I said.
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” she said with a grin. “I’d make you sleep in bed with me. Bill, I really do like you.”
“I really do like you too. I wouldn’t have too much trouble falling in love with you,” I said. “You’ve had a thumbnail sketch of my life. What about yours?”
“Well, I grew up in the town where we both live now. After I graduated from high school, I went to modeling school. I modeled for a while until I met Don. It was almost love at first sight. We got married a month after we met. We had a good income, and I was able to quit modeling full time. Joey came along, and I became a full time mom until that horrible night when we were driving home late from a camping trip. I was driving when a truck forced us off the road. The last thing I remember is the car rolling over. When I woke up in the hospital, I was in a lot of pain and they told me that both Don and Joey were dead.”
She paused and wiped her eyes and took a large drink of beer.
“I went into rehab and counseling,” she continued. “There I learned how to do things with just one hand. They taught me how to use my new prosthetic arm when I got it. The railroad was looking for some affirmative action people, and I got on, being female and disabled, physically challenged. That was ten years ago. I worked the southern section, and now I’m here with you drinking beer.”
“It sounds like you miss your family,” I observed.
“Yes, I really do,” she replied. “I don’t have any family at all. I was an only child, as were both of my parents. They died shortly before the accident. The last ten years haven’t been easy emotionally for me.”
“So what kind of hobbies do you have?” I asked.
“I like to fish a little. I used to enjoy sewing, but now it’s too difficult with only one arm. I enjoy movies and working out,” she said. “I enjoyed being in front of a camera, and I always thought I’d like to model again. But who’d want to take pictures of a woman with just one arm?”
“I would,” I said. “You are very photogenic. I think you’d make an excellent subject.”
“Come on, you’re just saying that,” she said as she raised her stub. “How are you going to hide this?”
“It’s a matter of angle and perspective,” I said. “That is, if you want to hide it.”
“What do you mean? You want pictures to include this mess?” she said, again raising her arm stump.
“Why not?” I said. “It’s you now. What’s wrong with showing you the way you really are?”
“Nothing, I guess,” she said as her face lit up a little. “I just thought that no one would want to see the stump of my arm.”
“So, when can we do it?” I asked.
“I have a very free calendar. What about you and your family?” she said.
“I’m like you. I don’t have any family. My ex is remarried and lives on the other side of the country. We didn’t have any kids. So it’s just me, and my social calendar is nonexistent,” I replied. “Are you ready for dinner?”
“Yes. I could eat anytime,” she said.
We left the tavern and walked two blocks to a nice little restaurant where I had eaten before. The food was good, and the seating was private. The hostess seated us in an out-of-the-way booth. We ordered another beer.
“I still can’t believe that you would want to photograph me with this damn arm,” she said.
“You’re pretty sensitive about it, aren’t you?” I replied.
“I’ve never thought about it like that, but I guess that I am,” she admitted.
“I guess my next question is why?” I questioned.
She thought for a moment, then said, “Maybe it’s because I spent a lot of time trying to be perfect for the camera that doesn’t lie.”
“That’s a good answer,” I said. “So you used to consider yourself to be perfect, and now you don’t.”
“I wouldn’t say perfect, but I tried to be,” she said.
“What were you then?” I pressed. “You look almost perfect to me now.”
“See, you see me as almost perfect,” she said. “Would you see me as perfect if I had both arms again?”
“No,” I replied. “I don’t see anyone as perfect, myself included. With or without your arm, I see you as very beautiful and a great photographic study. I would also like to have you for a friend.”
The waiter came by, and we both ordered steak.
“I’d like to be your friend, and I’d like you to be mine too. It sounds like you’re as lonesome as me,” she said. “Do you think we can keep our relationship non-sexual?”
“It would have to be, in order to make it work,” I said. “With sexual harassment suits running rampant, someone could complain and we’d both be in hot water.”
“I think the whole idea of sexual harassment has gone way too far,” she said. “The Congress passed what was a good law, and the courts have come along and really screwed it up for everyone. I could file on you for inviting me to dinner and drinking beer, and you could do the same to me.”
“I agree; it’s totally ridiculous now, and it’s the reason we each have to be more careful,” I replied.
Our dinner came and was nicely presented. I picked up my knife and fork and began to cut my steak. Donna just sat there looking at it.
“You haven’t tried your steak,” I said.
“I can’t cut it with only one arm,” she said sadly. “I can do it if I have my hook on. Could you please cut it for me?”
“I’d be glad to,” I said as I set out to cut up her steak for her. “There, how’s that?”
“Great,” she replied. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“Real friends don’t owe each other,” I said. “We do things because we want to. I’m only sorry that you had to ask. I should have noticed.”
“Well then, just thanks,” she replied.
We continued eating and chatting about things in general. We had a lot in common.
“I have an idea,” she said as we finished our meal. “How about if I put in for a transfer to a different crew? Then we wouldn’t have the supervisor and employee problem.”
“Good idea as far as sexual harassment goes,” I replied. “But how would it look when you just transferred to my crew and then leave after one run?”
“Not very good I guess,” she said sadly. “It was just a thought. If we really want our relationship to grow, I should quit the railroad.”
“That’s a little drastic, isn’t it?” I said.
“I suppose so,” she replied. “Bill, I really, really do like you, and I want more than anything to make our relationship work out.”
“I’m sure that it will. I really do like you too,” I said. “Let’s let things take their course and not get too excited right yet. And for God’s sake, no more talking about quitting your job. I never would get to see you then.”
“OK. Getting back to me modeling for you,” she said, “when do you want to try something?”
“Anytime I guess,” I replied.
“Do you have a camera with you?” she asked.
“Not my good one. I just have a point and shoot with a telephoto lens,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could have an after-dinner drink and we could go back to the motel and I could do some poses for you,” she said.
I paid our tab, and we went into the bar. The band was just setting up. We sat at an out-of-the-way table. The bartender came over, and we ordered our drinks.
“I still can’t believe that you want to photograph me,” she said. “When I lost this arm, I thought my time in front of the camera was over.”
“You enjoyed being photographed, didn’t you?” I said.
The bartender brought us our drinks, and Donna paid.
“Yes, definitely,” she replied. “I loved the attention. The pay wasn’t bad either.”
“I hadn’t planned on paying you,” I said.
“Oh no, no, that’s not what I meant. I wouldn’t want you too,” she replied. “If you sold any pictures of me, I’d like a cut though.”
“How about a fifty/fifty split,” I said.
“That’s a lot more then most models get,” she replied.
The band started. It was a slow song, and I asked her to dance. She put the stub of her left arm on my shoulder as we danced. Before the dance was over, she was leaning her head on my shoulder too.
“Bill, I really do like being with you,” she whispered.
“Thanks, I like being with you too Donna,” I whispered back.
When the song was over, they started something loud and noisy, hardly what I would call music. We finished our drink and left the restaurant. It was cold outside, and I slipped my jacket on her. The left sleeve hung mostly empty. We walked across the street to a twenty-four hour drug store. I bought several rolls of film and inquired if the one hour photo service that they offered went all night. The clerk confirmed that it did. I paid for the film, and we walked back to the motel. I opened the door to my room. She followed me in and shut the door behind her. I set the film on the desk and started looking for my camera in my bag.
“Where are we going to shoot?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said as I found my camera. “What do you think?”
As I readied the camera, I turned around and she was standing by the vanity in the bathroom vestibule. She was standing there naturally in a very provocative pose. I took a shot, and she moved to a slightly different position. The more that the camera flashed, the more she came alive. She was a great model with just a lot of what appeared to be natural ability and a lot of training. She moved on into the area of the room by the bed. She struck a lot more provocative and sensual poses. Each one seemed better than the last. She was alive and turned on.
“Do you want me to take my clothes off?” she asked.
“No, not now,” I replied. “I’m about out of film. Let’s see how these come out.”
I took only a few more pictures and ran out of film.
“Let’s go get these developed,” I said.
She put on my jacket again, and we walked to the drug store. I gave the clerk the film, and he said the pictures would be ready in less than an hour. We decided to go and have a few more beers while we waited.
We did indeed have several more beers, and we were both a little tipsy when we went back to the drug store. I paid for the developing, and we took the pictures back to my motel room. I spread the shots out on the bed.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked.
“These are great!” she said excitedly. “It felt wonderful to be photographed again.”
We were both bent over the bed looking at the pictures and admiring our work. We both straightened up. She was standing extremely close. She put her arm around me and planted a kiss on me. I held her tight and passionately kissed her back.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” she said when the kiss was over.
“God, so have I,” I replied. “That was wonderful, and I’d love to do it again, but we can’t.”
“Why not?” she said as tears started to form in her beautiful blue eyes. “We are two consenting adults.”
“I know, and I would love to take you to bed,” I replied. “But we both work for the same railroad, and I’m your supervisor. We can’t take that chance.”
“Bill, you’re the only person who I’ve met since Don was killed who I’ve even been remotely interested in,” she said. “I’d do anything to keep our relationship going and growing.”
“Probably the best thing for us to do is to take things slow and not rush into something we’d both regret in the morning,” I said calmly.
“Maybe the best thing I should do is just leave and quit making a fool of myself,” she said as she began to cry harder.
She turned to leave. She had her only hand on the door when I stopped her. I spun her around and gave her a kiss. She was resistant at first, but then helped the kiss become very passionate. The kiss finished, and she said, “I could always quit my job if you’d let me live with you.”
“Why would you want to quit your job?” I asked. “What about your retirement?”
“It seems to be the major block in our relationship,” she replied. “I don’t need the money.”
“Then why are you working?” I said.
“I’m trying to find an honest, hard-working man,” she replied frankly. “Where else would I find steady and hard-working men?”
“I guess you’re looking in the right place, but the rules get in the way,” I replied.
“That was my plan after Don was killed,” she said. “I would go to work in a heavy-labor intensive field rather than an office. I knew about the sexual harassment rules. I figured if the right man came along I’d quit my job so that I could be with him.”
“So you think I’m the right guy?” I asked.
“Your damn right you are,” she replied. “You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for. You’re smart, witty, fun to be with; you see me for me and not some crippled girl with just one arm. Yes, you’re the one I want.”
“I still can’t believe you’d quit your job just to be with me. What about your retirement?” I said.
“Bill, this is not something I go around bragging about, and please don’t tell anyone else,” she said. “I’m a multimillionaire. I make more in interest on my investments in one month than you make all year.”
I sat down on the bed hardly believing what she had just told me. She sat down beside me.
“I received a very large settlement from the accident that killed Don and Joey and left me with this little stub of an arm. I invested wisely, and my investments have paid off,” she said. “I’m willing to share with you if you’ll have me. I’m tired of living alone. I want to be with you.”
“An accident settlement didn’t even cross my mind,” I said.
“Well, what do you say; do I get to be your roommate?” she asked.
“I need to think this over,” I said. “Let me sleep on it, and I’ll let you know in the morning.”
“I’ll get out of here and let you start thinking,” she said.
She started toward the door. I was close behind her when she turned around and our lips met again. This time, she initiated the passionate kiss that we both enjoyed.
“Remember that kiss,” she said. “If you say yes, that’s only the tip of the iceberg of what’s to come.”
“I’ll try to remember,” I whispered as we kissed again.
She left and went to her own room. She tapped on my wall, and I tapped back. I had a hard time getting to sleep. A beautiful, rich, one-armed girl wants to come and live with me. I’d be a fool to turn her down. But on the other hand, I barely know her. What if she lives like a slob? I finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 2
The jangling of the phone and my wake-up call jarred me out of a deep sleep. I got up and showered, then got dressed for work. I looked at the pictures we had taken the night before. I packed my bag and went outside. I knocked on her door. When she opened it, she had on her jeans and just a tee shirt that had been modified to include a sock over her arm stump.
“Are you about ready?” I asked.
“I just need to put my arm on and finish getting dressed,” she said.
I walked in. Her room was neat as a pin. She had even pulled the bed covers back up and partially made it.
She picked up her arm and slid the shoulder assembly over her left arm stump. She threaded her right arm through the loop on the other side of the prosthesis. The harness had holes for her breasts. She fastened a large strap under her breasts. She moved her prosthetic arm around and flexed the split hooks, opening and closing them. Next, she put on a hickory shirt and let me button it for her. She tucked her shirt into her blue jeans and then put on her Carhartt bib overalls. She slipped on her baseball cap and picked up her bag.
“I’m ready,” she announced.
We walked down to the lobby of the motel and turned in our keys. I signed for our rooms. We walked out into the morning sunrise. We began walking toward the idling engines waiting with our train of empty cars.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well what?” I said playing dumb, knowing what she wanted to hear.
“Well, do I get to be your roommate or not?” she replied.
“I’ve gotten along well so far,” I said.
A very dejected look came over her face.
“But I think it’s time for a change,” I said.
“Do you mean I can be your roommate for sure?” she said in excited anticipation.
“Absolutely,” I replied. “I want you to move in as soon as you can.”
She faced me, and tears of joy started down her cheeks. She put her good arm around me and gave me a huge kiss.
“Bill, I know you won’t regret this,” she said. “I’ll be the best roommate that you’ve ever had.”
“I know you will,” I replied.
We got to the train, and she was still overjoyed. She was hanging on the engine railing and doing all kinds of antics. We got our train slowly under way toward home. She had been goofing around all morning. We pulled onto a team track siding to let a passenger train pass us. We began to pull out onto the main line again. She was on the front step on my side of the train. She locked her hook onto the rear railing and was hanging way out by only her hook prosthesis and one foot. She swung back up on the step and got back into the cab and gave me a quick kiss and a wink.
We continued on to the engine drop-off point where we would leave the helper engines. She got out and uncoupled the engine from the helper and signaled me ahead. She waited at the helper engines as I pulled the engine clear of the turnout. I set the brakes, got out, and walked back to her. I climbed up into the cab of the lead helper. She pulled the uncouple lever on the engine and I pulled the engine forward across the turnout. She threw the turnout switch lever, and I brought the engines back to the spot where we had found them the day before. The yardmaster came out with the paper work, and we chatted briefly before he started to walk back to the office. I walked back to the engine and climbed up to the cab.
In the meantime, Donna had thrown the switch again and had walked back to the cars. I backed the engine down toward the cars. Just before I got there, Donna walked toward the couplers and out of my view. I suddenly had an uneasy feeling when I saw her disappear, but I eased the engine back until I felt it connect. I stopped and waited for Donna to connect the glad hand on the air brake line. I had a growing knot in my stomach as I closely watched for the air pressure gauge to drop. It didn’t drop. I couldn’t take it any longer and left the cab. As I approached the end of the walkway, I could hear her screaming over the sound of the diesel engine and the bad bearing. I looked over the rail to see her good arm caught in the coupler. Her hook was locked around a grab rail.
“My arm is caught!” she screamed when she looked up and saw me. Her face was full of pain and her eyes full of fear.
I only hit one step on the way down to her. Her arm was tightly held in the coupler, and I knew in an instant what the outcome would be. I had seen it happen only once before, but that was enough. I wanted to throw up then, and this time was no different.
“BILL! HELP ME!” she screamed.
I tried to lift the uncoupling handle, but it wouldn’t budge with the weight of the train against it.
The yardmaster must have heard her screams because he was suddenly there too.
“Uncouple while I pull ahead,” I yelled.
I almost jumped back into the cab. I watched the yardmaster lift the uncoupling handle once I had the weight off of it. I pulled the engine ahead about another two feet and set the brake.
I ran back out of the cab and quickly ran down the walkway. I had instinctively grabbed the first aid kit. When I got back to Donna, her arm was free of the coupler but her hook was still on the grab rail. She had passed out and was hanging limply by her hook. Her shirt sleeve was bloody, and her arm was definitely severed; in fact, there was nothing left of it at all. The yardmaster was supporting her. I tried to free her hook by pulling on the operating lever, but I couldn’t force it open. It was then that I noticed that her operating cable had snapped.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pocket knife. I cut the extra heavy rubber band that held her hook closed. With the band gone, the hook almost popped open. We moved her from between the cars and the engine and placed her between two sets of tracks.
“Go call an ambulance!” I yelled at the yardmaster as I began opening the first aid kit.
He ran toward the office.
I used the first aid kit scissors to cut her shirt sleeve off. What was left of her arm fell out of the sleeve when I moved it out of the way; it was just a pile of bloody mush. Her arm was cleanly severed almost as short as her other one. I held a large compress tightly over the stump and found the pressure point on the upper part of her arm. The bleeding slowed greatly. As I applied pressure, I was almost glad that she had passed out and was missing all of this.
The yardmaster came running back. His face was red from the exercise but turned white when he saw what had been her arm laying beside her shirt sleeve now cut off from the rest of her shirt.
“The ambulance is on its way,” he yelled over the sound of the idling engine.
I looked up to see the ambulance approaching. They drove down the empty tracks to where we were, and three firemen jumped out. I backed off and let them work on her, then walked around the front of the engine and threw up.
“We’ve called for a helicopter,” one of the firemen told me.
“Is she going live?” I asked.
“Her vitals are good,” he said. “It’s up to her, but things look OK, considering. You did a good job of stopping the bleeding.”
After what seemed like an eternity, I could hear the helicopter. Luckily, we were out in open country. The helicopter was able to land relatively close. The paramedics bailed out with their crash boxes. They ran over to us and immediately began to go to work on Donna. They started an IV. They looked at what was left of her hand on the severed mess of her arm.
“Is there any possibility of reattachment?” I asked.
“Reattach what?” was his answer as he shook his head.
They loaded her on a stretcher and took the pile of bloody mess that had once been her arm. They told me they were taking her to Flatland General Hospital before they took off.
With her gone, I suddenly felt totally alone. I wanted in the worst way to be with her now. I knew that I had made the right decision overnight. I also knew that now she would need me even more.
I went back into the cab and radioed dispatch that she was on her way to the hospital. Dispatch asked the position of the train. I told them it was blocking the team track. Dispatch informed me that the investigation team was on its way and not to move until they OK’d it. This was standard procedure. My hand was shaking as I began to fill out the accident report.
The accident team got there in about an hour. They told me that dispatch had informed them over the cell phone that Donna was in surgery now and that all her vital signs were good. I gave the investigators my report and went over what had happened. I didn’t tell them that she had been goofing around earlier. A relief engineer and fireman were brought to the train. I took both of our overnight bags and rode with the investigators to the hospital.
Donna was just coming out of surgery when we arrived. The doctor met us in the waiting room.
“Her arm was severely crushed,” he told the investigators. “The coupler of the train performed an amputation of her right arm. We had no possibility of reattachment at all. Unfortunately, she is now a double above the elbow amputee.”
“How is she holding up?” I asked.
“Are you Bill?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“She’s been calling for you,” he said. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up a bit and let you be in the recovery room when she comes around? She knows both of her arms are gone now and is going to need emotional support. I think you will be vital to her recovery.”
He called for a nurse. He instructed her to get me washed up and a clean gown. He also instructed the investigators to wait a couple of days before talking to her so the effects of the morphine could wear off. They agreed and asked how I was going to get home. I told them that I was going to stay here with her for as long as it took and that I would be OK. The doctor looked at me and smiled.
The nurse took me into an area where I could clean up. It wasn’t until I started to wash up that I discovered I had her blood all over me. I removed my overalls and put on a hospital coat. It felt good to be cleaned up. I walked out into the hallway. The nurse was waiting for me, and I followed her to the recovery room.
Donna was lying in a bed in the recovery room. She had several tubes coming out of her and was connected to a monitor. I looked at the monitor as she lay there. Things appeared to be in the normal range as I remembered from the hours of first aid classes. She was terribly pale and looked very small as she lay in the bed. I lifted the sheet and looked at her right arm. It was encased in a very large bandage. I guessed it to be the same length as her left one now. She began to stir and moan, then her eyes began to flutter.
“Bill, help me, help me,” she mumbled still asleep.
“I’m right here,” I whispered before I bent down and gave her a kiss.
She kind of kissed me back, but was still really out of it.
The nurse came by and checked her vital signs. She looked up at me and smiled. “Her vital signs look good,” she said. “She’s going to be fine. She’ll be coming around in a few minutes.”
I stood by her bed wanting to reverse the happenings of a few hours ago. Donna just had been trying her best to do her job, and now one of her worst fears had come true. She was now armless. I thought out my course of action as I stood beside her bed. I was deep in thought and looking out the window when she said, “Bill, is that you?”
“I’m right here,” I said. “The doctors said the surgery went well and that you’re going to be all right.”
“I guess I really screwed up this time?” she said.
“You really managed to do a number on yourself,” I replied.
“Bill, what am I going to do?” she said as she began to cry. “Good God; I don’t have any arms.”
“Just relax darling,” I said. “I’m right here to help you.”
The nurse came over and checked her vitals and gave her a shot. Donna began to calm down almost instantly. She was back asleep quickly.
“That shot will keep her out for a while. We are going to take her up to her room now. The doctor has prescribed a morphine drip IV. She’ll be out of it until tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “You should go home and get some rest. Plan on being back here when she comes around.”
“I don’t want to leave her side,” I said.
“Go now while you have a chance,” she said emphatically. “She’s going to need you when she wakes up.”
I went into the waiting room. It was still a four-hour drive one way to get home. I called the local feeder airline and booked a round trip, then called John. The plane left in a half hour. I took both of our bags and caught the plane. I was home in less than a half hour. John was at the airport to meet me. He drove me over to my place, and I filled him in on the details along the way. He dropped me off at my house. It was empty, as usual, and not the way I had hoped earlier in the day that it would be.
I made several phone calls. People were shocked but understood what I was doing. They were all very cooperative. I went into the bedroom and lay down for a while. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t get the thought of poor Donna lying there, with no arms, out of my mind. I must have drifted off because the phone jangling awoke me. It was my supervisor telling me that things had been approved just the way I had asked.
I repacked my bag for a longer stay. At least bulky work clothes would not be required. I thought of repacking Donna’s bag, but with what? Hell, I didn’t even know for sure where she lived.
John picked me up in the morning to drive me to the airport. I filled him in on my plan. He was shocked, but when I told him of my motivation, he wished me good luck. The half hour flight seemed to last forever this morning. I caught a cab to the hospital. When I walked into her room, Donna was still asleep. I sat in the chair beside her bed. A nurse came in and adjusted the drip on her IV bottle.
“She’ll be waking soon,” the nurse said, smiling at me.
I nodded, and she left the room. I sat down in the chair and waited. I knew I had made the right decision. Soon she began to stir again. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“You’re in your hospital room,” I replied. “I’m here with you.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“You had an accident on the train, and you were badly hurt,” I replied.
She moved the sheet with her bandaged stump and exposed her bandages. She screamed when she saw that her arm was missing.
“Try to relax,” I said calmly. “I’m here to be with you now.”
“Bill, I thought this was all a bad dream. Make this nightmare end,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to be like this. Bill, do something.”
“Donna, you have to face the fact that this is the way you are now.”
“But Bill, I’ll be so helpless with no arms,” she sobbed. “What am I going to do? Bill, help me please!”
“I’ll be with you,” I said in a reassuring voice.
A nurse came into the room and quickly gave her a shot. Donna was back out in less than a minute.
I sat down and waited. It would be morning until she woke again. During that time, nurses checked on her about every fifteen minutes. They explained that her monitor was also connected to the nurses’ station and they were continuously monitoring her vital signs. That night, I slept in the chair in the room beside her bed.
In the morning, I was in her private bath when she woke.
“Bill, where are you?” she called in a panicked voice.
“I’m right here,” I said, poking my head out the door. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Oh Bill, I thought that you had left me,” she said in a much relieved voice.
“No, I won’t leave you,” I reassured as I came out of the bathroom.
The doctor came into the room. He introduced himself to me as Dr. Morton.
“Hello Donna. How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Not too good right now,” she replied.
“Are you in much pain?” he quizzed.
“The end of my arm hurts like hell,” she said.
“The operation went just as planned,” he said. “Both of your arms are now the same length, just like you asked.”
“I don’t remember asking anything,” she said.
“You were pretty adamant about it,” he replied. “You might not have remembered. The paramedics had administered some pretty powerful painkillers to keep you from going into shock. Your right arm stump would have only been about an inch longer anyway.”
“I really must have been out of it,” she said.
“You kept calling for Bill all of the time,” Dr. Morton said. “I’m glad you’re here Bill. She needs you.”
“I know, and I’m here for her from now on,” I replied.
“Good,” he said. “Donna, is there anything I can get you?”
“How about my arm back? It was bad enough losing the left one. I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” she said.
“Reattachment wasn’t even a remote possibility. The only thing remaining of your arm was a small portion of your hand,” he said. “Bill is here with you now. He will be able to help you.”
“Dr. Morton, thank you for saving my life, such as it is going to be now,” she said.
“You need to thank Bill for saving your life. If he hadn’t been able to stop the bleeding as quickly as he did, you would have bled to death alongside of the railroad tracks. The rest of us are just part of the team. Bill is the real hero.”
“I know. Bill is my hero,” she replied as she looked up at me and smiled.
“I need to finish my rounds. I’ll be back this afternoon to change your dressing,” he stated.
He shook hands with me and left the two of us alone again.
“Thank you hero. I need a kiss.”
The kiss was long and very passionate. I held her tightly in my arms when we were finished. I could feel her beginning to cry.
“Oh Bill, what am I going to do?” she sobbed with tears streaking down her cheeks.
“It’s going to be all right,” I said as I did my best to comfort her.
Right about then, the railroad investigator appeared at the door.
“Can I come in?” he asked. “I need to get your statement for the investigation.”
“Come on in,” Donna replied. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“I have Bill’s report,” he said, pulling out a miniature tape recorder. “Now I need to have your version.”
“I did a foolish thing, and it cost me dearly,” Donna started as she raised her bandaged stump a little. “I was out of sight of the engineer of a moving train.”
“That’s what Bill’s report says,” he interjected.
“I didn’t wait for the engine to come to a stop before I moved in to hook the glad hands on the air brake,” Donna continued. “I locked my hook around a grab rail on the car to steady myself and get more leverage, the way I always do. I reached down with my hand and grabbed the air hose. My arm was between the two couplers as the engine was moving back to pick up the empty cars. I tried to release my hook, and it wouldn’t open. I dropped the air brake hose and was bringing my hand up to try and release my hook. I looked at my hook and saw that the cable that opens it was broken. I had remarked earlier to Bill that it was getting frayed and that I was going to have to get it replaced. My hand bumped part of the coupling and my arm was parallel to the ground when I felt the coupler of the engine hit my elbow. I tried to get my arm out, but it was too late. The engine came back as if it were in slow motion, crushing my arm between the two couplers as it went. I felt the bones in my lower arm break and stood there helpless as they poked through my skin. The engine came on back, all the time crushing my lower arm more and more. After what seemed like an eternity, I felt the coupler crushing my upper arm as the knuckle on the coupler closed and held me firm as the engine was tight up against the train of cars. I struggled trying to get myself free, but with my arm and shirt caught in the coupler and my hook locked firmly around the grab rail with the cable broken, I couldn’t move. I began to feel the pain in my arm, and that’s when I started screaming. I remember Bill up on the engine looking down at me just before I passed out. I woke up here.”
“Wow, that’s pretty graphic,” he replied. “Your story fits exactly with what the other reports show. Is there anything else that you would like to add?”
“No, other than it’s my own fault,” she said emphatically. “Even though Bill was at the throttle, I’m the one that stepped in front of the moving engine.”
“That should do it then,” he said as he turned off the tape recorder. “Donna, I’m sorry that you lost your other arm. Is there anything I can do?”
“What’s done is done, and you can’t bring either of my arms back,” she said. “One thing, be sure that all of the blame goes to me. The accident was entirely my fault; Bill isn’t to blame. The doctor said Bill saved my life by stopping the bleeding.”
“That’s the way the report will come out. Not because you asked, but because that’s what I believe to be the truth. OK?”
“OK,” she replied and smiled at me.
“I’ll be going now. I know you two have a lot to talk about now,” he said as he left the room.
“What did he mean by that?” she asked when he was gone.
“Oh nothing. I’ll tell you later when you’re ready to go home,” I replied.
“Oh Bill, what am I going to do?” she said as tears began streaking down her cheeks. “I know what it was like when I lost just one arm. I just know I can’t do anything for myself now that I’ve lost both arms. I’m going to be almost completely helpless. I can’t live by myself like this.”
“Well, first we’ll start by still having you move in with me, like we planned,” I said. “Then I can help you whenever you need it.”
“Thanks. You know how much I want to live with you,” she replied. “But what am I going to do when you’re at work?”
“Well, my life has just changed too,” I replied. “I retired yesterday afternoon.”
“Bill, why in the world did you do that?” she asked. “You liked your job.”
“A couple of reasons that made perfect sense once I thought about it,” I said. “First, I’ve found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. She needs my help a lot, and I want to give her all that I can. Second, I couldn’t bring myself to ever get back in the cab of an engine again. My heart stopped beating in that awful instant when I saw you caught in that coupler.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she said smiling through her tears.
“Just say you’ll do it,” I said. “Donna, I’ve fallen in love with you. I made up my mind as soon as I saw them take you away that I need to be with you always.”
“Oh. Bill you’re so kind and wonderful,” she said. “I’ve fallen in love with you too. I’ll be happy to move in with you. As long as I know you’re there for me, life will be bearable once they get me fixed up with a mate to my other artificial arm.”
“Great, we have a plan,” I said.
“We have a plan,” she replied before the kiss that sealed the arrangement.
The kiss was just the first of many more to come . . .
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