Date: Tue, 7 Aug 2012 01:48:31 -0400 From: Jesse Jesse Subject: Being Seen Pt 10 Though every major railway in the country had long-since transitioned to diesel and electric power motives, in the 1960's, particularly in the south in the 1960's, there were still several "steam men" who'd made their living "jerking the throttle" of the hissing, smoking giants that had powered the nation for decades. One such man was Frank Carroll. 65 years old and as spry as anyone half his age, Frank Carroll was a much-needed source of not only guidance and information regarding our project with the railway, but proved in time to be a great friend. But Frank also proved something else, something that took everyone who dealt with him by surprise; Frank had the foulest mouth of anyone I'd ever met! Oh sure, I suppose that's not really such a big deal in one since, but when you stand listening to a grandpa figure curse a "goddamned, fucking, son of a bitch engine" for a part not working right, half doubled over in laughter and half expecting the ground to open and swallow everyone around up in judgment, it's a big deal! Though he proved a life saver with his seemingly endless knowledge of railroading, Frank was a completely unexpected member of our crew. We'd known from the first day of discussions of purchasing the locomotive and operating it for excursion use that we'd need someone with expertise in such things, and we'd all mentally prepared ourselves for what we guessed would be months of searching for someone who not only had the knowledge we sought, but would be willing to move to another town and work with us. But Frank was totally unexpected. He'd not waited for us to seek him out, but had come knocking on our door, a smile on his face and an offer on his lips. Though unknown to us at the time, a lifelong native of the neighboring town where we'd purchased the old locomotive, Frank had heard of our venture and had made inquiries around until he'd found where Seth and I were living, so that he might seek us out and offer his aid. And what aid he proved to be! Frank gave literal meaning to the old phrase we've all heard of "forgetting more than someone else will ever learn." He had amazed us all on his first day into the engine house, walking around the old locomotive, pointing out "air pumps," "injectors," "Walschaert's valve gear," and any number of things otherwise unknown to us. His eyes had shown like a small child at the candy counter when he'd first taken in the view of the rusty old steamer. "Why, I tell you boys. You'll not find a better damned locomotive anywhere than these here little mikados. 'Course the best name for 'em here in the states is 'MacArthurs.' They was named after the design from over in Japan, but after them sons 'o bitches dropped 'em damn bombs on Pearl Harbor, nobody wanted to name the things after 'em any more, so they named after 'ole MacArthur, the general." This was another thing we'd not counted on, Frank's seemingly childlike enthusiasm and workaholic ethics. It seemed 20 years of working in the locomotive shop for Southern Railway, and another 25 of working for Norfolk and Southern had instilled in Frank a sense of urgency and work ethics for repairing and operating the locomotives he'd dealt with that was almost fanatical. When we'd bought the locomotive we'd not even bothered to give ourselves a specific time frame of when we thought she would be operational, so we were both shocked and thrilled when we received the call from Frank, telling us "the old girl was ready as she'd ever be!" I do not wish to brag or sound haughty, but few things in my life ever came as natural to me as learning to drive the train. I'd always been mechanically-minded. When I was just a child I'd already amazed my grandparents at the things I'd been able to imagine and build with my Tinker Toys and Erector set. By the time I'd turned ten my maternal grandpa had already shown me how to break down the block and transmission of a car's motor. Seth had instructed me on many of the common operations and goings-on around the farm, fastening the horses saddle so I could ride on my own, and how to use the welder Grandpa had brought home a few years ago. It seemed I'd always just been a hands-on type of young man, but never would I have guessed that I would find the operation of the locomotive so easy, nor to my liking. Seth would laugh for years to come at my insistence that Grandpa and Gram were there with me that first day I'd sat with Frank looking over my shoulder, showing me the do's and don't's of train operation. Though Seth sat for hours, vehemently under his breath because he applied way too much steam and caused the locomotive to spin desperately in place, not moving an inch, I managed to get the old locomotive chuffing around the yard on only my second attempt. Frank was elated. "By George, boy, I'll be a son of a bitch if you ain't done went and got it figured out! You're a natural at this!" Though I didn't want to seem haughty or arrogant in any way, I couldn't help but agree with him. As I was considerably scrawnier than Seth, firing the ever-hungry mammoths its tons or coal and water proved a bit more of a challenge for me, but as the weeks and months passed I found my strength gradually building and the job becoming easier. What a thrill came from those first trial runs, made at night so as not to interrupt the daytime traffic of the shortline. Nothing can quite compare to the feeling of giving that first jerk on the throttle, and feeling that first lurch as the locomotive begins to hiss and clank its way forward, feelings of raw power and strength. My heart skipped and thundered in my chest at those times when I'd be able to reach up and give the whistle signal for a crossing looming ahead. Though I knew I must have looked foolish, I found myself grinning boyishly each time as I counted the signal whistles off in my head; two long, one short, and one more long for the crossing ahead! Finally came the day we'd all been preparing for, waiting excitedly for, and in a strange way dreading; excursion day. Seth and I both were up early that morning, having a hearty breakfast and preparing for the strenuous day ahead. Though I was a bundle of nerves myself, wondering and worrying as to whether anyone would bother to show up after all our hard work and advertisements, Seth was fussing over something altogether different. "Babe do I have to wear these damn things? I look like something out of a cartoon!" Though I knew I should have been supportive, I couldn't stifle the laugh that escaped as he came shuffling through the house, no shirt of shoes, bare feet sticking out one end, and his muscled arms and chest sticking out the other of the new striped "engineer's overalls" I'd bought for him. His few wispy hairs that grazed his chest stuck out at an odd angle over the bib of his overalls, and his pale chest and dark arms of a farmer's tan gave made me wonder if anyone could have ever looked more out of place in their attire. But the embarrassed, yet resigned to please look he wore could not have been more of a turn-on. I found myself chuckling as I answered. "Well, I don't guess you really have to, but I thought we'd look nice for both of us to match today." He sneered a mocking sneer. "You're starting to treat me like we're an old married couple, matching our clothes up for social affairs. What will we have next, matching hats?" I couldn't contain the grin that crept across my face. "Well actually, yes, I bought matching hats too!" The look on Seth's face as I swept by him and brought two striped engineer's hats from a bad that had lain next to the sofa was priceless. "You've got to be kidding me!" I sidled up to face him, pulling a childish face. "Well, I don't suppose you have to, but I'll be disappointed if you don't." He sighed a defeated sigh and jerked the hat from my hand, his curly hair sticking from underneath the brim as he pulled the hat onto his head. Finally he pulled me into him, kissing my head as it rested on his chest. "The things I do for you!" I turned my head up to face him, staring in to those beautiful eyes. "And I hope you know just how much I love you for it." The chimes of Gram's ancient grandfather clock brought us out of our reverie, and we reluctantly pulled apart to begin our final preparations. Though we had posted fliers for two weeks before the day of the excursion and even placed an add on the local radio stations, nothing could have shocked us more than the crowd waiting outside the tiny depot that had been built specifically for the excursion trains. People stood all around, chatting, pointing, and laughing happily as they waited for the train to make ready. Frank was elated as he stood peeping from the engine shed. He'd already moved the locomotive around in the yard so that she sat simmering patiently, already coupled to the two restored passenger cars that had sat in the yard for years, just waiting for the trip. "Boys you've got a good looking crowd out there. You'll end up having to run two trains today!" We stared at him in amazement. "Two trains?! We didn't plan for that. Can we do that?" Frank bellowed a hearty laugh. "Well, since it's your railroad, I guess you can do what ever you damn-well please!" Seth and I both chuckled at the man's humor, but he suddenly grew more serious. "I wanna tell you boys something. I'm proud to work with you! It's been a long time since I've had this much enjoyment doing any work around the shop. You boys, especially you Jessie, have got what it takes to keep this old teapot running, to keep the dream I've seen in your eyes come alive in some other young boy's eyes some day! That being said, I wanna give you a little gift, something you can remember me by." Frank reached onto the wooden workbench along the front wall of the shop and brought something shiny into view; it was a locomotive whistle. "Boys I took this whistle off my old engine before I left the Southern all those years ago; Crosby three chime. She's a beauty, make your hair stand up when she echoes! I want you to have this." I found my voice shaking as I tried to reply. "Frank I can't tell you what an honor this is, but we can't take this. This is something dear to your heart, we can't take this." Frank's face softened. "I know it's dear to my heart, that's why I want you to have it! Now let's get this thing on and get those people on that train so you can get going!" Frank was right, the whistle was beautiful! How it echoed through the hills as the train rumbled along the track. Though it was one of the happiest days of my life, I cried uncontrollably. It was as if with each blast of the whistle I could hear or feel Gram and Grandpa with me. Each time the whistle sounded I thought of Grandpa, how he'd dreamed of doing exactly what I was doing at that moment! "Well Grandpa, you may not have got to then, but I know you're here with me today." Seth smiled gently, and when no one was around to watch, hugged me tightly. "I'm so proud of you, and I know your grandparents would be too!" I pulled him close, leaving the throttle for a moments as the train rumbled along, and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "Do you know how much I love you?" He smiled and kissed me once more before turning to his shovel. "Do you know how much I love you?" Though one of the happiest of my life, that day was brutal. Seth and I swapped jobs per trip so that neither would be totally exhausted, but we still felt weary and worn by the end of the day, but two trips along the line later, two tired and sore backs, and a late evening spent soaking in the tub together, found Seth and I lying in bed, discussing the day's happenings. I stared at the kind, wonderful man lying next to me. How I loved him! He'd been so patient, so gentle today with children and elderly as they shuffled around the train, asking questions and pointing. My heart had melted when a tiny boy from Rawlins had ran up to him, his elderly grandmother trailing with a camera, and Seth had swooped him up and stood grinning widely for a picture with the little boy. He'd spent a good half hour chatting with an elderly man, winking mischievously at me as the elderly man wanted more to tell his stories than ask questions about the train. I found myself desperately wanting to show this man how much I did love him. "Seth?" "Mmmm?" "Seth do you really, honestly know how much I love you?" He stared bemusedly at me for a moment. "Where's this come from?" Though they were from sheer, unadulterated happiness, I found tears forming in my eyes. "Seth if you never hear anything else I say to you, I need you to know that I love you with all my heart." He cradled me gently in his arms and chest. "Baby I do know. You've loved me with a more passionate, more open, more honest love than anyone ever has! But do you know how much I love you?" "Show me." He smiled gently at me. "Don't you think we're both a little tired tonight?" His only protest was a gasp as I reached suddenly down to his groin and grabbed the, though soft, massive cock that lay between his thighs. "Then let me show you."