The Late Train
The River Keeps Score
Amtrak’s Montrealer arrived in White River Junction, Vermont, at 4:15 a.m.
Rob’s girlfriend, Pam, was on the train, traveling from the University of Delaware.
Late that Friday afternoon, Rob arranged to borrow his roommate’s car to pick Pam up from the train station. He borrowed an alarm clock from the girl in the apartment upstairs and set it for 3:30. He was excited to see her. It had been almost two months, and he missed her.
He ate dinner early at Thayer Hall and walked back to Channing Cox. He thought about how to kill time on a Friday night without getting into trouble. He planned to go to bed early so he would be fresh for her pickup.
Just before 7:00, Rob sat reading for his biology class and listening to a Weather Report record. Harry walked through the front door.
“Hey, man,” Harry said. “What’s up?”
“Not much, man. Pam’s coming on the train tonight, so I’m just chilling,” Rob said.
“You gonna check out any parties on the row?”
“Not tonight, man. I need to get up at 3:30.”
“Well, you’re not gonna be able to sleep if you go to bed too early, man. A few beers might be just what you need.”
Rob closed the book. “You’re probably right. No way I can fall asleep at 9:00.”
“Now you’re talking, dude. So what should we do?’
“Nothing’s gonna happen now; it’s too early,” Rob said.
Harry lit a cigarette. “Yeah, that’s a problem.”
Rob walked into the kitchenette and poured a glass of water from the tap.
“Wait, man,” Harry said. “Bones Gate usually has a pre-party. Let’s walk up and check it out.”
“All right,” Rob said. “Just let me take a quick shower.”
“Solid,” Harry said. “I’ll go upstairs to see if Claw wants to go. I’ll be back in 15 minutes.”
Harry left, and Rob went to his room, peeling off clothes on the way down the hall. He came back down the hall, naked, with a towel and a bottle of shampoo. He got in the shower. Rob was tugging at his shirt when Harry and Claw returned.
“Gotta make it an early night?” Claw asked.
“Yeah,” Rob said. “Pam will be here at the crack of dawn. Wish the train arrived at a decent hour.”
“Whatever, man,” Claw said. “You’ll be stoked once she’s here.”
Rob smiled, imagining the sex. Harry chuckled.
Harry changed the record and put on Jimi Hendrix. Claw pulled a joint from his pocket, lit it, and they passed it around until it was gone.
“Do I need a jacket?” Rob asked.
“No, it’s not bad,” Claw said.
“I’m taking one, man,” Harry said. He was from Houston, and it was plenty cool for him.
They walked through the cemetery, taking the shortcut to Bones Gate. As they drew closer to the house, they saw people on the porch with cups of beer, so they knew something was going on.
They bounded up the stairs to the front door. Once inside, they headed straight to the basement to grab some beers. They each chugged one from the keg, then poured another to take to the porch.
It was warmer than usual for October. Rob saw Lisa Brant coming up the stairs to the porch. He had been trying to find a way to get next to her all semester. They had chatted in French class, but he never found the right moment to take it to the next level. He was feeling no pain, and she looked high. The moment felt right, he thought.
“Hey, Lisa,” he said.
“Hi, Rob.”
“Can I get you a beer?”
She was flattered by the attention right away. “That would be great. I’ll wait for you here. I’m meeting Susan, and it’ll be easier to catch her.”
“Great,” he said, and he headed to the bar.
He returned quickly with two beers and two shots of tequila. They downed the shots, sipped their beers, and made small talk. Rob was getting drunk. He found himself staring at Lisa’s breasts. She noticed.
It was dark. Susan never showed up, and the pre-party was winding down. Harry and Claw had left to get a burger at the Hop. Rob and Lisa were alone on the porch.
“I’m buzzed,” Lisa said.
“Me, too,” Rob agreed.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll check inside.”
He came back out and said, “It’s only 9:15.”
“Shit,” she said. “Nothing’s gonna start for hours.”
“Why don’t we go back to my place and kill some time?” Rob asked, with very clear implications.
Lisa didn’t hesitate. “Sure, why not? Let’s go.”
Holy shit, Rob thought. Is this real?
Rob was praying that none of his roommates would be home. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
As they walked across the open field they called the tundra, Rob could see into his apartment. The lights were on, but there was no sign of anyone. He opened the door and motioned for Lisa to enter. There was no one inside.
Lisa took control. “No more small talk, Rob. Which room is yours?”
It was better than Rob imagined. She pressed her lips to his, and he explored her mouth with his tongue. He ran his hands over her smooth, taut body. She returned his kiss. They fucked, rested, and did it again.
The alarm went off at 3:30, but neither stirred.
At 4:45, the phone in the apartment rang. Rob’s roommate, Brian, walked to the phone, half asleep. Who is calling at this hour? he thought.
He set the phone down and said, “Oh, fuck.”
He pounded on Rob’s door. “Rob, wake up, you stupid fuck. Rob, wake up!”
There was no response. Lisa woke first. She heard the pounding and the urgency in Brian’s voice. She poked at Rob until he finally woke up.
“Rob, you asshole. Get up and get out here.”
It took a moment, but then he saw the alarm clock. “Oh, no,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked.
“I was supposed to pick someone up from the train station,” he said.
“Someone?” she asked, pissed off.
Lisa got out of bed and dressed quickly. “They’re right about you, Rob. You’re a fucking slut.” She ran out of the room and slammed the door.
Rob emerged, and Brian waited.
“You dick.”
“I know, I know.”
Rob rubbed his head. “What did she say?”
“She’s wicked pissed. She’s taking a cab. You are in deep shit, my friend,” Brian said. “And you one hundred fucking percent deserve it.”
Rob scratched his balls.
“Was it worth it?” Brian asked.
Rob didn’t respond.
“What am I going to say?” Rob asked Brian.
“You’re on your own, man. Pam is so nice, and you’re so not.”
“Piss off, man. Who are you to judge?” Rob walked to get a towel. “I’d better take a shower.”
Rob dressed and worked on an excuse. Nothing seemed good enough.
Headlights came around the bend in front of the River Cluster, and Rob saw the cab heading toward Channing Cox. His heart was in his throat. This sucks, he thought.
The cab door slammed, and there was a loud knock on the door.
“I am so sorry,” Rob said. She was furious and did not speak. “Pam, I can explain...” She blew past him and into his room.
“I need to sleep,” she said, and as he started into the room, she added, “Alone.”
“Pam, please let me...”
“Get out.” She slammed the door in his face.
Pam slept until 10:00. Rob heard her stirring and knocked on the door.
“What?” she said, upset and hurt.
“Can I come in?”
“No, but you can get me some coffee.”
“Sure, Pam. Sure. Be right back with it.”
Shit, he thought. I’ve ruined the weekend, if not the whole deal. How do I get out of this?
Rob brought her the coffee, trying very hard to make it exactly as she wanted it – light cream and one sweetener.
Pam took the cup and took a sip. She looked up at him.
“How could you?”
“Pam, honest. Let me explain. I had Peter’s car, set the alarm, and went to bed early. It went off. It was still going off when Brian finally woke me up.”
“Bullshit, Rob. You’re gonna have to do better than that. I saved for a month for this ticket, took the milk run all night, and got off at the station, excited as hell to see you, only to find you a no-show. If it wasn’t so embarrassing, I’d leave right now. But then I’d have to tell all my friends in Delaware what a dick you are and what a sucker I am.”
“Pam, please. I don’t know what to do. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
“Leave me alone, Rob. I’ll be out in a while.”
She closed the door as a tear welled in the corner of her eye. Rob stepped back as the door closed on him.
Brian was drinking coffee as he read the newspaper.
“What am I gonna do, man?” Rob asked.
“No clue, dude. This is a triple-A fuck-up.”
“What would you do?”
Brian set the paper on the table and looked at Rob. “I would’ve been at the train station, idiot. She’s hot as hell, you’re luckier than hell, and you’re a grade-A asshole.”
“Come on, man. Enough already. Give a guy a break.”
“Not this time, Rob. Not this time.”
Brian picked up the paper and flipped to the sports page. He sipped his coffee, shook his head, and muttered something under his breath, but Rob couldn’t make it out.
Rob tried to pull himself together. She’s a hopeless romantic, he thought. What can I do to get this back on track?
It was a beautiful Indian summer day. The campus was waking up, and signs of life appeared here and there across the Green and the tundra.
“That’s it,” Rob said. Brian ignored him. “Ledyard.”
Pam was an outdoors type. The leaves were in full autumn splendor, the sun was out, and it was unseasonably warm. The Ledyard Canoe Club was just down the hill, on the Connecticut River.
“Pam,” he yelled. “Let’s get out on the river. It’s a beautiful day. Come on, it’ll be great. Even if you’re pissed at me, you’ll love it.”
Pam listened. He had played it right. She couldn’t resist. She waited as long as she could to make him squirm, but at last she said, “Okay, but I’m not speaking to you.”
“Great,” he said, grateful for at least a chance to make it up to her. “Hurry up.”
It was around 11:30 when they descended the hill to Ledyard. Canoes were available to students on a first-come, first-served basis, and Rob hoped one would be available. When they cleared the tree line, Rob saw three canoes hanging in the boathouse and let out a sigh of relief. He went to the office to leave his ID and sign out a boat.
Pam sat in front, and Rob sat in the back. They pushed off and headed north, fighting the current so the return trip would be easier. Once they cleared the first bend in the river, the boathouse disappeared, and they were alone on the wide water. It was idyllic. There was sunshine, beautiful, colorful foliage, and a peaceful breeze. The only sounds were the oars slapping rhythmically against the water.
Pam watched straight ahead, paddling and meditating.
Rob was calculating. When should I talk? He wondered. Patience, he told himself. Patience.
They paddled for quite a while.
“I brought a couple of beers, Pam. Do you want one?”
“Sure,” she said. She reached back with her hand without turning to look at him. Rob opened the bottle and handed her the ice-cold Moosehead. He opened one for himself. They rested their paddles across their laps, sipped their beers, and let the Connecticut River carry them back downstream.
“I really fucked up, Pam,” Rob said at last. “I’m a complete idiot.”
She turned and sat facing him.
“You really hurt me, Rob,” she said, looking at the riverbank. “Really hurt me.”
He felt bad. He really did.
“I know, Pam. I am so sorry.”
“That may not be enough this time, Rob.” She turned to face forward, took the last swig of beer, and started paddling again. Rob finished his beer and helped paddle. He was coming to terms with the fact that this escapade might have been the last straw.
“I need to pee, Pam,” he said. “Let’s pull over at the bank.”
They paddled in unison, steering the canoe toward the steep, tree-lined riverbank. When they were close enough, Rob grabbed a tree branch to bring them to a stop. He handed Pam a sturdy one.
“Hang on for just a second, okay?” he said. “I’ll be quick.”
Rob hoisted himself onto the bank. It was steep, and he had trouble finding his footing. He was barefoot. He pulled himself up onto the narrow ledge and walked a few paces to the left. He made a stance for himself and peed on a nearby tree. Relieved, he got himself together and turned to make his way back to the canoe. He pulled the trees apart and peered out.
The canoe was gone.
Rob looked both ways, and there was nothing. Jesus Christ, Pam, he thought. This was childish.
Rob sat down. She’ll be back in a few minutes. When she returns, I’ll pretend I was upset and worried, and I’ll give her the satisfaction of winning. Maybe this will make us even. He felt good about things.
Ten minutes or so passed. There was no canoe; there was no Pam. Rob heard the faint sound of a scull rounding the bend. It was a Dartmouth rower in a single.
“Hey!” Rob yelled as loud as he could.
“Hey!”
After several shouts, the oarsman heard him and pulled up his oars. He moved closer to the bank.
“Sorry for the interruption, man, but my girlfriend and I are having a little fight, and she ditched me here when I got out of our canoe to pee.”
The guy in the scull laughed. “No shit,” he said. “Ballsy.”
“Yeah, did you see anyone in a canoe on your way here?”
“Yeah, a girl with black hair, by herself, was paddling hard toward the Ledyard. She was really cruising.”
“Are you shitting me?” Rob said. “I don’t have shoes, and it’s over two miles back.”
“Hey, man. It looked to me like she was on a one-way trip. If I were you, I’d start hiking back.”
“Fuck,” Rob said.
The oarsman headed back toward the middle of the river, laughing as he rowed.
Rob waited ten more minutes. When Pam didn’t return, he started back.
The bank wasn’t a path; it was a tangle of roots and stone that plunged straight down to the water, and Rob had to pick his way barefoot, always with a branch in one hand. He went down when branches gave way. His knees were bloodied. Whips of brush cut his arms and scraped his face. He stopped counting the river’s bends when the far shore wasn’t appearing any closer. The sun started dropping below the tree line, and with it the warmth. For a second, he thought about what he would say, then abandoned the thought – there was nothing to say. He concentrated on the next foothold to avoid falling again.
Rob showed up at 4:30. His feet were bloodstained, his hands and arms cut and scratched.
His throat was dry, his shorts torn, and his ego shattered.
Brian and Pam were drunk.
Pam looked up at Rob as he approached. “We’re even,” she said.
Rob couldn’t speak. He was exhausted.
Brian looked at Pam to see what would happen next.
She looked at Rob, and her eyes hardened. Brian squinted against the setting sun.
“We’re even, and we’re finished.”
Pam got up and walked into the apartment. Brian followed her.
Rob sat on the grass, resting his head in his hands.
The End