05-25-2019 06:22 pdt

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Decoupling

Part Seven

alert   Mature content     No. 86    Published May 25th, 2019 6:22am pdt       read ( words)     Past entries

"I awaken in the still caboose, on the sofa and wrapped in Julia's warmth. My clothes are hanging in the corner nice and neat. She stirs slightly but does not open her eyes. Beautiful. Calm. Comfortable. Julia is so welcomed after the ordeal in the passenger car. I still do not have a clue as to how that horrible situation came about, nor do I have an idea of whether or not it will have bearing on my journey. Our journey. God she feels nice. I need that solace and peace. Badly.

Darkness outside. I rise slowly so as to let her rest and move to brew coffee before sitting and considering the future. Are we taking that car? Was the idea of coupling to it and bringing the car with us just a ruse to force me into facing difficulty? Was it a test? I do not know. The fact remains that Julia pushed me there. She took the other train and disappeared. Only her voice remained and that was enough to move me. Where is that train? I step out to the rear deck and peer toward the leader. No headlight burning, only darkness with running lights glowing. Directly behind are my hoppers. I still see both locomotives, too. Everything the same. Wait a minute... The other train -- just the half which sat idle behind the passenger car -- is gone. The streamliner sits there alone, dark, and brooding. God damn last night was uncomfortable to say the least. Seeing members of my family years after losing them nearly broke me. If not for the confidence and support of that gunman, I may not have taken matters into my own hands. I may have simply fled and let things happen. Fuck, that was slicing my heart to ribbons. After everything which took place in that fucking car and the massive toll it took on me, well, I do not feel motivated enough to carry forward with the hoppers. Perhaps I will just give up. So much pain and emotional wrenching. I don't even know how long I slept.

Coffee.

The sleeping beauty is wearing nothing aside from a thong. Her flowing hair is everywhere and partially obscuring one beautiful breast. Jesus, how can I think of such things? Fuck it. Why not go in that intimate direction? Touching, feeling, fluids, orgasms. Maybe her loving ways can pull my brain from the din. Maybe. For the time being, however, I am going to sit and sip. Thoughts are all over the map. I need clarity, if that even exists anymore. In the meantime I will stare. Seeing a woman like Julia and nearly nude is a rarity. Staring, thinking, quiet. No pressure at all. The coffee helps me to feel grounded, just like home on a weekend. That is always my quiet time to organize thoughts and plan the day. It is peaceful. Early morning. Again I look at her lying there all cozy and cannot avoid leering at those curves I love. The idea that the woman appears as a hybrid of so many other beautiful examples to which I have been fused is too wondrous for me to simply ignore. As I refill my cup, Julia rolls onto one side -- facing away -- and I nearly spill the hot liquid. Jesus fucking Christ. There it is... Pressure. I am looking at the most striking and stirring sight in existence. More pressure. I will not disturb her slumber because the woman went through much difficulty last night. I saw it in her pretty eyes both before and during my ordeal in that haunted car. But Jesus... the distraction from my troubles could be worth it. And she loves me. Ugh. Doing my best to stay put. Goddamn sonofabitch, the sight is enthralling and she looks so fucking picturesque that I am in pain. Right there. Like gazing and drooling over Ashley's incredible ass all those years back. Fuck. Sit still, head case. Let her sleep. Can I? Ugh.



562


Thoughts of the previous night are still floating and that means time to myself is better spent trying to understand just what took place. I shot a man and turned his neck into a splattered mess all over the car. I still cannot process the scene. People I would love to see again, some I never expected to see again, one I would die to be near, and one who partially ruined my life. How in the holy blue fuck did those individuals gather for me? And the safe? When I spied it in the corner I knew something insane was taking place. The last several moments were slow motion and had me in a nightmarish frame of mind. The gunman... Was he there because of the endless westerns I watched with my dad? The characters were often very masculine, forthright, and confident. Maybe just the fact that he seemed to be supporting my intention and action lent to that. I don't know. I was frightened out of my skin, angered to hell seeing that face from the past, and those are the only reasons I avoided throwing myself at Alexis. Jesus fuck that woman is something else. Bottom line? I need Julia to answer some questions. Sleeping. Gorgeous. Dreamy and enticing beyond words. Can I get her ass off my mind? Oy.

Coffee.

'Good morning lover.'
'Morning.'
'Are you ok?'
'I don't know, but you're beautiful lying there.'
'You don't need to say anything. I know.'

Fucking hell in a plastic cup. Julia raises to one elbow but leaves her lower body on display. Pressure again. Perhaps the escape will help me. My trying analysis of last night disappears instantly and my brain kicks into gear toward her curves again. The woman is right there... Soft, warm, delicate, and available.

'I know. Come here.'

One long arm extends to me with a smile. Oh boy, what is she doing? I move to her and sit. Julia's skin is smooth, glowing, and soft. She is warm and heating me like magnesium hit with a torch. Her smile is disarming as she stays in that same position allowing me to stare. I need her, if only to push the bad thoughts out of my head. And she can. Julia knows everything about me, which raises some thinking about the story I told her. If she knows me that well, why ask? Was it to press me into vocalizing the most difficult period of my life? Was it for me? Like therapy? Lanie all over again... Maybe. Julia's soft touch to my cheek opens a gate in my mind and all of the bad slides down and out of me. She repositions a bit to display my dreams right before my eyes. Staring. Leering. Holy crap.

'Yours.'

And that is the clincher. I had been trying to keep upright with regard to last night, but the vision in front of me takes everything away. I dive and simultaneously dream of Andrea and Ashley. Everything. Julia references the story of my awful past and tells me that she wishes to care for all that went wrong. Never before -- not even Andrea's endless affection -- have I been comforted, caressed, and made to feel as if I deserve such gratification. Wonderful, tender, loving. My head blows up over and over as Julia takes the trauma and turns it into bliss. A little while later...

'Coffee please.'



404


As we relax on the sofa, Julia asks of my feelings regarding the previous night and the hell into which I had been dropped (pushed). The worry in my head over the hoppers and our still-unknown journey has all but disappeared in favor of concerns of the passenger car and what I am to learn from such an experience. I tell her that I do not know what to think for the most part, but time may tell me. I am going to need days and perhaps weeks to fully analyze the situation, and that is only if I am able. The nature of the scene with those random people from my near and long past was surreal and frightening, not to mention the idea that I actually drew on the man who ruined much of me. Did he die? I do not know, nor do I have any fucking idea of any of it actually taking place. I feel the same... Painful, worried, distraught. Nothing changed. Hmm. The physical bliss which just happened took me away from all of it for a time, but then my life slammed back in like a crash test vehicle. Crushed, disfigured, hurting. And then I hear words which amplify the concern...

'You relax and stay put. I need to move the other train off the line.'
'Can I go with you?'
'Stay here in the heat, lover.'
'Ok.'

The knot inside twists further. I hate it. My stomach is doing flip-flops as Julia wraps her vast beauty in warm clothing and quickly steps from the rear of our caboose. What to do? Alone again and scared. I need her but she is out. I dash to the window and watch her step with purpose and disappear into the haze. Fuck. The one soul in this world of uncertainty and cold with whom I have to remain close and she is gone again. Reverberating words once more.

'You did what you had to do.'

Damn it. What does that mean for the future? Do I have a future? The train? Hoppers? Feelings? Holy shit do I ever feel alone and frightened even more than drawing my revolver from the safe in that insane world of the streamliner. Fucking hell, anyway. I cannot move. Is she coming back? Should I move to the lead engine and await her signal? She did not tell me anything. Fuck it. I am going. Clothes, coat, hat, gloves. I exit the rear of the caboose and notice that the weather has further dropped. The cold is biting like never before. It hurts me. I have to be quick.

The walk is short.



469


The cab is nice and warm. One positive in my world of piling negatives. Ahead I cannot see the signals. They were there last night before the drama of that fucking car. I move to the right and peer out the window. Nothing. The passenger car and all of the boxcars behind are gone. Empty rails stare back at me as I become confused. What? Why? Where did everything go? Where is Julia taking the train? Why are the signals not glowing? Frightened more. Perhaps I should unlock and move the train forward to get a bead on the Vader hoods and the lights they house. Should I? She did not say anything about moving. Damn it. What the fuck am I going to do? I need to think. Maybe another cup of coffee and some quiet moments will help. Back out of the big locomotive and toward the rear. Um... huh? One engine I just exited, one smaller engine and four covered hoppers of my feelings. No caboose. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE Goddamned CABOOSE? Yelling out loud helps nothing. Gone. What? Where did it go? My head runs through everything which has transpired to this very second as I become more fearful than ever in my life. Even more scared than that worst of days on the fucking levee. My head begins to hurt. Stomach churning.

Back to the warm lead cab with a head full of nothing good. Where is Julia?

I climb back up to the deck and drop my warmth. To the big seat. All I can do is stare out the windshield and wonder. Fear. The idea I had earlier to wander forward and find the hoods returns to my broken brain. Unlock. Throttle. Motion. I roll along the cold rails and watch the snowy landscape for clues as to why so many things changed in the space of less than a full day. Wondering. Waiting. Searching. Nothing. I have traveled at least two miles according to the instrumentation and I see that the signals are also gone. Slow. Stop. I look to the right and the other line is gone. What in the name of Christ is happening? Where did she go? For the love of God, please do not let her disappear. I need her more than anything... More than the cars full of my parts. I cannot focus upon any facet other than the woman who saved me from the past. Damn it. Too many fucking questions.

The power beneath my feet immediately pushes my head to believe that I must lash out at this situation. Kind of like a nightmare in which something takes place to create fear and then pushing so hard against it that I wake. Well, here it goes. Throttle. Force. I need to do something. The locomotive responds with authority as I bring the speed to fifty. Sitting atop enormous power, along with knowing that I have at least some measure of control, helps me to feel a tad stronger. Like the torque is not moving the train along the rails, but as if the wheels are rotating the planet beneath. I like it. More speed. Sixty. The power poles are piling up like fence posts and flying by at dramatic velocity. Still nothing. No switches, signals, other lines... Just the main and my speed. The searchlight makes the falling snow shine with the glare of the sun which somewhat obscures the path ahead and I do not care. Faster. The limit. Seventy miles per hour feels tremendously strong. Nothing can stop me at all. Unfortunately, there is the underlying knowledge that all the love and comfort in the world has eluded me. Perhaps the lesson includes Julia leaving me forever. My hope is waning yet again. No bliss, no warmth, no nothing. Rails, light, Winter, depression. Half of me is out there and I fucking do not give a shit. I need to roll until something takes place. A straight line with nothing along the sides. Nothing. Flat, level landscape and two cold steel rails seemingly without end. Further I go.

Something on the instrument panel grabs my attention.



480


Fuel. Shit.

That is an aspect to which I have paid absolutely no attention from the outset of this sordid mess. Fuel is low in the lead engine. I have to stop the train and see what is going on with the trailer. Off the throttle lever slowly as I roll the two miles it takes to stop hundreds of tons of metal. Finally the train sits at rest and I lock things up for a stroll. Out the door and the fucking cold is horrendous. My Marine Corps training for cold weather kicks in as I recall words from an instructor. Human flesh will begin to freeze solid in roughly a minute at minus forty. What is the fucking temperature? That is another sensor that the big displays can reveal, but like the fuel I have not paid attention. Into the smaller cab and to the controls. Not much fuel. Fuck me. Even less than the larger one ahead. There is nothing out here. Nothing. Just soil, rails, ice, and snow. I seek the environmental monitoring and discover that inside I am feeling sixty-five, however outside is another story. Thirty-five below zero. Holy fucking shit do I ever have to be careful. Throughout the days spent on these trains the temperature seems to have dropped steadily and sharply. I do not know what will happen if I run out of fuel. Batteries? Maybe, but the heat seems to be generated by the diesel's cooling system much like an automobile. Can I transfer the fuel from one to the other? I have not one clue as to how that could happen. I need Julia's confidence and help but she seems to be gone for good. Sadness. Cold.

I quickly sort through all of the options available via those electronic systems and find nothing regarding fuel transfer or filling. Well, that does not matter because I seem to be in the middle of a vast wasteland of nothingness. My cars are coupled to the locomotive, yet their meaning is beginning to take a back seat to my surviving at all. Back at a brisk pace to the lead engine and into the warmth. What to do? The sinking feeling that Julia's purpose has been fulfilled overtakes my need to understand the fucking fuel. I miss her and the pain is acute. She brought so much comfort -- not solely physical -- and knew me well enough to speak the exact words I needed to hear. The other train remains a mystery, the passenger car still stirs me with force, and the line ahead seems endless. In the beginning I saw trees and distant structures, but nothing for quite some time. The planet's landscape is different, dire, bleak like never before. The increasing cold is an issue I cannot ignore. From limitless options days earlier, I am now reduced to one: Stay holed up in the cab, roll at speed, and seek something. Anything which can help. My life is on the line, my broken self is all over the place, and I feel as if there is nothing out there for me. So scared and alone.

Our loving coupling exists no more. Something had better happen, and soon. My hope is nearly defeated.

I do not know if I can survive this journey."



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