A rock ricocheted off the wheel’s steel spoke, casting sparks onto the surrounding gravel. A group of children jeer and push each other, goading their leader—the tallest of the bunch—to throw another. The next one connected, but only just barely. The impact emitting a dull thud, accentuated by pained curses. Quickly turning in anger, he raised his head and screamed, “Get the hell away from me! You shits are either gonna get killed, or bored, before the next train comes!”
Another rock whizzed by the man’s hairy, freckled, right ear, nicking the sun-toasted lobe, turning it Tuscan orange. “Fuck! I’m fucked!” he yelled in despair, after ducking another projectile. But before the leader was able to get a clean shot, another figure screamed from afar; the kids scrambled, escaping unidentified.
After a moment, the figure approaches, panting and holding his cellphone; it’s clear he’s in no shape for running long distances. The two were together for a moment, then he said: “Good lord. Did those kids drag you onto the tracks? I should call the cops.”
The man on the tracks is in a wheelchair. Head dipped, he waves his arms to discourage the other from making the call. “No. Don’t worry about it. I just need some peace here now.”
The other man shakes his head. “Sir, you may not understand this, but you’re on train tracks that are operational. We really need to go.” He grabs the handlebars and attempts to move the chair, but the wheels are locked.
“Where’s the key to the wheels?”
“I’m not unlocking my wheels.”
The man pauses. “What do you mean? Don’t you want to leave?”
The older man squints against the sun to look into the other’s eyes, raising his hand to block its rays. “No. I paid those shits to help me get far enough away from the train station, but close enough that I could afford to bribe ’em with twenty bucks. They decided to fuck with me because I didn’t pay them more. I appreciate you stopping them, but I’m staying here.”
A stunned silence fills the scene.
“What, so you’re waiting for a train to run you over?”
The old man nods his head and sighs deeply, peering at the sky with his neck craned all the way back.
The man passionately whispers to himself, “I can’t let you do this.”
“Why? What’s it to you if I’m here or not in—”
The old man hears ringing in the distance, gleefully craning his neck to see if any trains were approaching from around the bend.
“I don’t know if I’d say that I’d gain anything from saving you, but I just don’t like the thought of you killing yourself.”
The old man pauses momentarily, as if grappling with the other man’s comment, “Well, I don’t want to burden you with the knowledge that I’m here.”
“You’re not burdening anyone—unless you show up in the news.”
The old man slowly opens his eyes, which were rolled back to start, then slowly focuses on the other man.
“Don’t you have grandkids that you want to see? Come on. Don’t do this.”
“I’m almost out the door; can you please spare me your bullshit? Just let it be quick and painless. You said I’ll be on the news? Cool. I won’t see it because I’ll be dead!”
His raised voice causes “..dead!” to echo around all the trees surrounding the train tracks.
“Are you with one of the assisted care living facilities—no, okay.”
The old man shivers as the sun has started to set. The other man attempts to throw his jacket over the old man, but its zipper slapped the old man’s cheek, setting off a brief, angry slurry of insults.
“What can I do to talk you out of this?”
“You can’t. I’ve already made my decision.”
The other man winces. “You’re not religious, are you?”
The old man motions with his hands upturned. “Look at me. Do you see Mary, Jesus, and Joseph hanging out with me on these tracks?”
The heavy man laughs. “No. I guess not, but there’s so much around for you to soak up.”
“Is there? I can’t imagine what that is…”
“Well, I love food. Do you love food? It’s something as simple as that, then.”
The old man smiles a toothless, sarcastic smile. “I can’t eat food anymore—mostly shakes.”
The heavy man points at the sky. “This is God’s canvas that he paints for you—every day! You’re telling me that you’d really take your own life when you don’t even know what’s in store for you tomorrow? I haven’t even begun to discuss our Father’s Kingdom—”
“What sunset, what clouds? I was in the Highland Retreat up until yesterday, and there’s no fucking view out my window.”
The heavy man folds his lips until they are nearly touching his teeth, thinking hard. “Don’t you have any hobbies?”
The old man smiles. “I did, but my hands are no good anymore. At some point you just run out of steam, and my steamer is nearly dry now.”
“Well, can’t you just make your misery more pleasant for the rest of us?”
“Why? I’d rather kill—”
“And at God’s doorstep, awaiting—”
“Awaiting what? His ‘judgement?’ I’m not into that.”
The other man wrung his hands briefly before suggesting, “What about sex? Sex is nice.”
“I’m 85, in a wheelchair, with hands that can barely lift that twenty-dollar bill that I used for bribes. Plus, I’m not sure God is into the same stuff that I am.”
“God made you, so he must be.”
“Or,” the old man interjected, “he’s a figment of our imaginations, and you and I, and our children, are all set for a fate that only beings with insurmountable knowledge could know.”
A train whistle sounds faintly in the distance. Alarmed, the heavy man asks hurriedly, “Well, what about you coming to stay at my place so we can continue this conversation?”
For a moment, the old man considers his offer, then politely declines. “Thank you for the invitation. But it’s a bit after my bedtime, and I plan to help the railroad crew paint these tracks.”
The man takes a deliberate step forward. “It’s not an invitation—more like a request.”
“You’ll have to drag me off these tracks.”
The two scuffle for a moment as alarm bells continue ringing and flashing lights alternate; eventually, the other man breaks away from the old man after nearly tipping his chair.
The two stare for a moment at each other before the heavy man tips his hat to his elder. “Well, in any case, thank you for the conversation. I do have a train to catch—I suppose so do you—so I won’t keep you.”
“Of course. Go fuck yourself.”
The old man said his final goodbye; meanwhile, while gritting his teeth, the other man hurriedly shuffles away from the scene, taking care to pause and chuck his own stone before leaving.