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THE SPEED DISTANCE DISPLACEMENT
Chapter 3
"I understand if you're angry with me, and you have every right to be, but please hear why," Sheldon's voice continued on the other end of the phone, an almost pleading tone creeping between his words. "I lied about being ill. I didn't have laryngitis. I lied because if we had a video call you would see I'm not at home. I'm coming to you, Amy."
Amy released a sigh of pent-up frustration and looked around the coach car of train. No one was sitting very close to her, several people having gone to the dining car for dinner, but still she didn't want to disturb anyone. "Thank you for telling me," she said softly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
Was it her imagination or was there an extra long pause before Sheldon replied? "I, um, missed you."
She frowned slightly, surprised and confused about the slight stuttering of his answer. Normally Sheldon was very precise in his speech, just as precise as he was in his thoughts. "No other reason?" she asked. He had left in the middle of the day without telling anyone, Penny said.
"I - I realized I needed to be with you, to talk to you face to face."
Again a hint of uncertainty in his words.
"Are you flying in?" Amy asked. She felt dishonest as soon as the question left her mouth. She knew the answer. Sheldon would probably be more comfortable if she just told him everything she knew.
"No. I'm taking the train. I'm on the Southwest Chief to Chicago now and then I'll be getting on the Lake Shore Limited there. At least," he lowered his voice to a grumble, "I hope so. There has been a great deal of freight traffic and now we're at least two hours behind. I hope I don't miss my connection there."
She sat up straighter. "What happens if you do?"
"It is dependent on how late the train is. Most likely I'll have to wait in Chicago for the next day's train. Sometimes, though, they reroute a passenger if the time tables work out so that another route will get you to your final destination sooner."
"Reroute? A different train altogether?"
"Yes. Or even a bus. But don't worry, Amtrak always makes arrangements to get you to your final destination. I'll get to New Jersey, I promise. But I must say, I appreciate your interest in the intricacies of train travel. You should try it yourself sometime."
It was the perfect opening. All Amy had to do was open her mouth and say, "Actually, I'm experiencing the intricacies of train travel myself at this exact moment." She could tell him not to worry about the train being late into Chicago or missing his connection, that she'd be there to meet him. They could spend their weekend in the Windy City or they could plan their onward journey together.
But she didn't.
She wasn't sure what held her back. She had heard the palpable guilt and then the relief in Sheldon's voice as he confessed his lie to her. And his motive was pure. How many years had she longed for Sheldon to miss her enough to not only verbalize that but also to rush across the country to see her again?
But . . . there was something in his hesitation, something in his sudden departure in the middle of a routine work day that worried her. And that something was Dr. Ramona Nowitzki. The absence of her name in his narrative somehow felt like an overwhelming presence.
"Amy?"
"Sorry, I was thinking. I mean, about you coming. When you'd get here, what we could do, everything." It sounded weak to own ears. Then, her voice stronger with honestly, "I can't wait to talk to you. I feel like we have so much to discuss."
"Me, too."
Another pregnant pause. This one, though, was interrupted by an announcement that the dining car was now calling those with six o'clock dinner reservations.
"What was that?" Sheldon asked.
"Nothing, just the television." It slipped out so easily. "But my dinner is almost ready. I'm sorry, I should go."
"Of course. Have a good evening. I probably won't call again as my phone is rapidly losing power."
"I'm very much looking forward to our conversation in person," Amy said. "And I love you." She would end the phone call with honesty, if nothing else.
"I love you, too. Goodbye. Have a good meal."
"Thank you. Goodbye."
She put her phone back in her purse with an unsettled heart and then went to the dining car for her six o'clock dinner reservation.
There was something familiar about her dining companion. Although it seemed odd that Amy couldn't place where in the world she'd seen the woman in the bright red trench coat and matching broad-brimmed red fedora. The hat was angled rakishly over her black hair, its deep shadow obscuring her eyes from view. Only the tip of her dark honey-colored nose and the full, sensuous pout of her red lips were visible.
"Hi. I'm Amy Farrah Fowler," Amy introduced herself.
"Carmen," the woman's voice oozed, heavy and dusky.
Picking up her menu, Amy fanned herself gently. "Aren't you a little hot in that coat? I think it's warm in here. I'm thinking about taking off my sweater."
"I enjoy the heat. I find it spicy."
"Ooookkkay."
Amy perused the menu in silence, noting that her companion didn't do so. Instead, she kept her face turned, looking out the window as New York State passed by. It occurred to Amy that her posture kept her face hidden from those that walked past the table. The waiter came and took their orders, and Carmen ordered the flat iron steak and some red wine. "Very rare," she clipped.
"So, are you traveling for business or pleasure?" Amy attempted again. Eating across from a silent stranger would surely only be awkward.
"For me, they are one and the same."
"Well, that's good. I enjoy my work a great deal, too."
The waiter returned with wine, and, despite the fact she barely turned to acknowledge him, Carmen said, "Bring a glass for my new friend, too."
"Friend?" Amy almost choked.
"I can smell a person with a secret. And people with secrets are almost always my friends. Ms. Fowler, whom are you running from?"
"It's Dr. Fowler. And I'm not running from anyone. I'm running toward someone. And he's not running away, either. At least -" she bit off her words as the waiter poured her some wine into the plastic wine glass.
There was a faint smile around Carmen's lips before her wineglass reached them. "Your lover?"
Something in the way she said it sent a not unpleasant shiver down Amy's spine. She managed to imbue the very word with its meaning, the sounds of the letters feeling like Sheldon's breath close upon her barest and most delicate skin, like goosebumps rising. Amy blushed. "Well, yes. But he's my boyfriend. Not just my lover. We love each other, ours is a connection of equal minds first and foremost."
"And yet you redden at the mere thought of what his body does to you," Carmen chuckled.
"I'm not sure this is the most appropriate conversation to have in public with a stranger," Amy rebutted. How was this woman even able to tell she blushing, given how hard she was working to keep her own face in shadow? She leaned forward and whispered, "But you cannot imagine what his body does."
This made Carmen turn, and for the first time, Amy saw her brown eyes flashing something mysterious and clever.
"I like you, Amy. You have verve. Now, tell me, what is your lover running from?"
"I didn't say he was!" Amy protested over the arrival of their dinner.
There was pause before Carmen replied, as they waited for the waiter to walk away. "Another woman?"
"No. Don't be silly."
"I am never silly about a life on the run."
"It is not a life on the run. There was just this other scientist and she's tall and blonde and an Olympic swimmer and she was there but I was in New Jersey and - oh! never mind. The point is he is coming to see me and I'm traveling to meet him. He loves me."
"Are you certain he would not stray?"
Amy almost choked on her baked potato. There it was, four words from a stranger. Words her mind had been dancing around for two whole days now but not daring to utter.
He was already awake when the quiet hours ended and the first stop of the morning was announced. Not that Sheldon was up. He'd remained stretched out on the lower bunk, his feet just dangling off the edge and touching the sleeping compartment door. He hadn't opened the curtains yet, but his head was situated just under the edge and he could see a bright blue sky sliding past.
Sighing and getting up, he rolled his shoulders and neck. He had thought he would sleep better. He hadn't been sleeping well without Amy, missing the warm heaviness of her form next to him in bed, but the swaying of the train on previous journeys had always rocked him to sleep like a lullaby.
Plus, he'd confessed to her last night and the weight lifted from his chest should have freed his mind from the strangest dreams he'd been having lately. Those had started not long after Amy left for New Jersey, too. Dreams about drowning, something ensnaring him down under the blue waters of a swimming pool, his eyes open and burning in the chlorine, seeing Amy sitting on the edge, but he was unable to scream or reach out and touch her. Instead he could only feel this other thing, this thing he didn't understand and couldn't see, clawing at him.
Until the night before he'd left, the night Penny had explained to him what she thought Ramona was doing. That night, he could see her, grasping at his ankles, a blonde Ursula, dragging him down.
He pushed the images from his mind as he rushed through his morning shower, not wanting to feel the water anymore than he had to, and he grimaced as he put back on his dirty clothes. Yes, defiantly, some new underpants.
The last call for the stop came, and Sheldon's ears perked up. Topeka, Kansas. He pulled open the curtain and looked at the blue sign on the wall of the station. Three hours behind schedule.
When Amy first boarded the Lake Shore Limited, she was impressed by the coach seating. The chair was wide and comfortable with generous leg room. There was plenty of space above for her luggage, a shower and changing room downstairs, and even an outlet to plug in her phone. Why would she ever fly again with amenities like this? But the next morning, as she stretched her tight muscles and smacked her mouth, she realized that sleeping in a chair in one's clothes was still not ideal. Much better than an airplane, yes, but still not her bed.
Of course, her bed in New Jersey hadn't been that welcoming, either. Oh, it was decently comfortable, but it was empty of Sheldon's presence. Amy had not realized how much she'd come to appreciate his warmth in the night. Even worse than all that, though, was that she'd been having strange dreams while there, about The Little Mermaid of all things. At first, they were innocent; she'd be sitting on a rock by the sea combing her hair with a dinglehopper, for example. But in the past few days, they'd been violent; she'd be sitting there, her new legs as painful as razors, watching the sky blue water churn and twist, something dark and frightening beneath them, but, with neither her voice nor her fins, she was unable to stop it.
She shook the thoughts away. They were just dreams. She was just missing Sheldon and anxious to do well and prove her worth on her fellowship, that's all. They didn't mean anything. Anything at all. Once she and Sheldon were in Chicago and had a nice long talk, they'd fall asleep peacefully in a hotel bed.
For now, she needed to shower, change clothes, and get some breakfast before the mid-morning arrival in Chicago. The call for Fort Wayne, Indiana came over the public address system and Amy glanced down at her watch. Right on time.
S: Only 10% battery remaining. Going to turn phone off to conserve power. Train 3.5 hours behind schedule. Layover may be too short to find and purchase charger. But I will find a way to inform you if there are any changes to my route. I love you.
Chicago's Union Station was everything Pennsylvania Station could have been if it had not been torn down years ago. The Great Hall soared above her, and Amy tilted her head back to get a better look at the ceiling. The grated skylight curved overhead, filling the sandstone and marble space with natural light. The buzz of travelers whorled around her.
Amy would have loved to explore more and to take some photos of the grand staircases and their hexagonal coffered ceilings, but she needed to determine exactly when and where Sheldon would arrive. Turning around, pulling her suitcase behind her, she followed the signs to the Amtrak information desk, only stopping to look at the departure and arrivals board, which confirmed that the Southwest Chief was running late.
After obtaining information that Sheldon's train was not due until at least six that evening, the helpful man at the desk volunteered how she could store her suitcase for the duration. Taking advantage of his offer, Amy decided she might as well go sight-seeing, find a hotel close by that she and Sheldon could stay in that night, and perhaps enjoy some of that famous deep dish pizza.
S: I've been rerouted. Getting off in Galesburg, IL and taking a bus to Indianapolis then the Cardinal to New York via Washington, D.C. Turning phone off again, almost dead.
Amy didn't hear her phone chime over the cacophonous noise of Chicago traffic.
It was beautiful, black and gleaming in the late afternoon sun. A CB&Q engine 3006, a Hudson class S-4, 4-6-4 locomotive, built by the Baldwin Locomotive Works in 1930. Sheldon licked his lips in appreciation outside the Galesburg, Illinois train station. He only had an hour and half before the bus was due to take him and handful of fellow travelers to Indianapolis. He had to find somewhere in this little town to buy a phone charger and some underpants, if nothing else. The clerk at the desk had suggested trying the Dollar General Store three blocks away. He knew he really ought to go back to the station so he could use one of their outlets to charge his phone. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since lunch and there would be no food on the bus. That needed attended to, also.
But the massive restored locomotive at the Galesburg Railroad Museum called to him, a long lonesome sound like a train whistle on the plains at night.
He could charge his phone on the Cardinal train. He'd already sent Amy a text telling her about his reroute, and there wasn't anything she could about it from New Jersey. Maybe he wouldn't even text her again until tomorrow morning. If the Cardinal left Indianapolis at midnight, that was too late to wake Amy with a text. Surely she was sleeping better than he was.
Sheldon turned away from the locomotive with a brisk step. Yes; Dollar General, Railroad Museum, and the bus, in that order. It wasn't as though Amy was waiting somewhere to meet him.
Amy ran back to the station in a blind panic, racing through a crosswalk even with the hand flashing at her to be careful. A car honked loudly. Her stomach pulled at her, the heavy mound of deep dish pizza rebelling against the fast movement. She pressed her hand against the stitch in her side.
"Indianapolis!" she cried, running up the Amtrak ticket desk. "I need to get to Indianapolis!"
"Calm down, miss," the agent said, not unkindly. "You have plenty of time. The Hoosier State doesn't leave for another hour."
"When does it arrive? My boyfriend is on a bus from, um -" she fumbled for her phone to read the text "- Galesburg, Illinois and then he's getting on the Cardinal train. I need to meet him in Indianapolis, though."
The agent typed on his keyboard and looked back her. "You should make it. The Hoosier State arrives at 11:39 p.m. and the Burlington Trailways bus should arrive at 11:20 p.m., provided it's on time. So he should already be there."
Pursing her lips, Amy considered her options. "When does the Cardinal leave? He doesn't know I'm going to be there and I can't get ahold of him. His phone is dead." She had tried to text him and even to call him when she'd finally received his message, but all her calls went straight to voicemail.
The agent pulled at his face. "The Cardinal leaves at 11:59 p.m."
"So twenty minutes. I have twenty minutes," Amy murmured. "That's plenty."
"Well, if he's getting on the Cardinal, he has to be on board by 11:44. We don't board less than fifteen before the train leaves. So you really only have five minutes. I'm not sure it's the best place to catch someone."
"Give me a ticket," Amy declared. "He won't be getting on that train."
The WiFi on the Hoosier State train was excellent, and Amy read all about the Indianapolis Union Station on the way there as she slid past the twilight farms of the Midwest. A storm was approaching and she could see lightening in the distance once darkness fell.
Opened in 1888, it was the first station in the country to be named Union Station for the Union Railway Company. It was an ornate and colorful building, Romanesque in style instead of the clean lines of Chicago's Art Deco structure. At first, Amy was disappointed to learn the restored Great Hall was now used only a banquet space by the Crowne Plaza hotel that owned most of the building, but she couldn't believe her luck that the hotel offered rooms in thirteen restored Pullman train cars. Sheldon would love that!
A deep rumble of thunder interrupted her thoughts and then the train noticeably slowed.
"Folks," came an announcement, "this is your conductor here. We're going to slow down a little through this storm. We've received notice of straight-line winds ahead. Don't worry, it shouldn't delay our arrival by too long, just a few minutes or so."
With a deep groan, Amy threw her head back into the seat. Even five minutes was too long.
It was unnecessary of Amtrak to warn him that his connection in Indianapolis was tight and that he would need to immediately exit the bus and walk through the small terminal, up the two flights of stairs to the platform, and board the Cardinal bound for New York City. However, as Sheldon was acutely aware, almost no one was as intelligent as him. Except Amy.
The risk of bus rides were not unheard of on Amtrak, and Sheldon had experienced it before. This bus ride was better than most. The bus was not even half full, the distance was not so great, and the late hour seemed to quiet all the passengers. A storm could be seen in the distance, a harsh line of low gray clouds punctuated with lightening bolts. But they seemed to be traveling behind it, and, other than some rain, it did not impede their journey into Indiana.
He spent the first part of the journey transferring his Dollar General Store purchases into the black backpack he'd also bought there. The store was old and over-stuffed and not the cleanest, but fortunately all his purchases came in sealed packages. A few snacks, a few toiletries, some underpants (although not white), some socks, even two solid colored tee shirts, and the essential phone charging cable.
The farther the bus travelled on Interstate 74, the more Sheldon regretted his decision to visit the railroad museum and not charge his phone. He could have been talking to Amy now that they were in the same time zone. It would have to be texts, as Sheldon didn't want others to overhear the details of his private life, but at least it would be something
Immediately after he'd informed Amy that he was on the train and coming to see her, he'd felt a relief at confessing his lie about being ill, about obscuring his whereabouts from her. But it hadn't lasted.
He'd had the dream again last night, and this time Ursula-Ramona had her lips painted a lurid red color, and she managed to pull him down further under the water, those lips puckering like fat blisters and they came closer and closer - He had woken suddenly, gasping and coughing, in his sleeping compartment.
Afraid of a repeat, he didn't sleep on the bus even as he heard others snoring softly around him; instead he'd watched the water run in black rivets down the window, midnight in Indiana approaching out the window. As they pulled off the Interstate into downtown Indianapolis, he thought he heard a train whistle in the distance.
The bus was precisely one minute late. Sheldon grabbed his backpack and climbed down the stairs into the night, turning toward the glow of the combination train and bus terminal.
"Oh, I'll never make it on time," he heard a pitiful cry behind him.
The heartbreak in the voice was painful, and he turned. An elderly lady coming off the bus was struggling to get her oversized suitcase down the stairs. "Will you help me?" she pleaded, when she caught him looking at her. "I have to get on that train! And I don't know where I'm going!"
Because his mother raised him right, Sheldon nodded and leaned forward to take the heavy luggage from the woman. "We go through the terminal and up the stairs to the platforms. We have to hurry."
"Stairs! Is there an elevator?" she asked. " And I need an arm to hold onto."
"Yes, but quickly," he said.
She wound her arm, light and as feeble as a bird's, through his. Between the weight of her suitcase and her much shorter stature, Sheldon had to bend over to lead her through the terminal and to the elevator.
Why did she bring this heavy suitcase? Amy cursed, giving one more strong pull then almost falling backwards from its weight as it toppled out the overhead rack.
"Careful there," someone said.
"I'm in a hurry!" she explained, trying her best to race down the aisle between the seats and off the train, but it was difficult while holding the large case in front of her.
Stepping out of the train, she sucked in her breath. There were no other trains, just a couple of empty tracks on the other side of the platform.
"Oh! No!" Amy cried out. "It's gone!"
"Are you looking for something?" the Amtrak employee who was helping people down asked.
"The Cardinal train! Is it still here?" she had to shout over the sound of the engines, still running.'
"Not for long."
"Where?"
"Over there," he nodded toward the train they'd just got off of, "behind us. You can't see it. You'd better hurry, it's about to leave."
As if to punctuate his sentence, Amy heard the cry of "All aboard!" from somewhere in the cavernous space, echoing off the iron girders.
"You can't cross the rails, go to the end of the platform and turn left," the man called after her as ran, pulling her suitcase behind her.
"All aboard!" yelled the conductor, just as Sheldon practically pushed his elderly companion up the steep stairs into a coach car. His ticket was for another first class sleeping compartment, but he'd have to get there from inside. There just wasn't time to walk down the outside of the train to the correct car.
"That you so much! You're such a kind young man," the woman turned to look at him from the top step.
"You're welcome," Sheldon said, pulling himself up behind her just as the conductor slammed the exterior door shut behind him.
Engine. Baggage car. Crew car. First class sleeping cars. Yes, he'd be there, right? He'd want his own bathroom. Amy ran down the edge of the Cardinal, is engines running louder now, the metallic sound of heavy doors being shut and locked.
It wouldn't leave for fifteen minutes, right? She'd been told about this, that boarding closed fifteen minutes before departure. But surely they'd let someone off?
"Sheldon!" she yelled. All the windows were tinted and she couldn't see inside. She pounded her first on the metal hull of the train, but the sound of it was muffled by the train and her own screams.
He walked forward, through the observation car and the empty dining car, forward toward first class. At each breezeway between cars, he read the car number before pressing the large button to open the door. Then, in the second car, the one that was his, he counted the rooms in the small hallway to find his compartment.
The train lurched to life under his feet and the whistle blew, loud and strong even here, inside the car. On instinct, Sheldon pressed his fingertips against the wall to steady himself.
"Look out there! Do you see that? What is she doing?" he heard someone in the room adjacent to him say.
Setting his backpack on the blue bench, Sheldon went to the window of his compartment to see what was happening.
He had to crane his neck to see, but then he gasped at the sight. It was only the back of her, tugging a suitcase behind her, but he'd know that cardigan and mud-brown hair anywhere. "Amy!" he yelled, uselessly.
He ran, skipping steps down the steep spiral staircase at the center of the car, into the central opening on the lower level, between the family/handicap bedrooms and the luggage storage and the extra bathrooms. He ran to the door in the middle of the car, the ones that were opened at all the stops on the Superliners. The train was picking up speed.
Sheldon pressed his palm to the small glass window there and yelled her name again, as Amy shuttered past him, standing still and looking devastated on the platform.
To be continued . . .
Sorry to give some of you heart palpitations! What will happen now? Thank you in advance for your reviews!
