Long Time Gone

Chapter 6

It took the rail engine 6 hours to reach Boston City. During those hours, Bob and I slept for 4, while entertained each other for the remainder 2. We had a small share of food for breakfast (at 11am), since I packed bread and butter before leaving. We ate like wolves, for we were starving and most of our energy was wasted in the prolonged walk and the chase after the train.

Upon finishing our meals, Bob showed me the lyrics to a song he'd been working on for a week. Curious, I asked whether he could show me all the songs he had worked on so far. Resultantly, he just passed me his diary, where I took the time to read each and every line he wrote. He was magical with his words, and I found it astounding to believe that these poetic lines merely swam in his head like everyday thoughts. What a guy.

In order to pass the time, I showed Bob some ideas for the stories I've been meaning to write myself. They were mostly dramatic plots, for my life was brimmed with the experiences of everyday drama. Bob expressed his surprise at my stories, admitting that I could be a great writer if I wanted to.

At last, 735 Engine began to slow down, its gears gradually decreasing their speed. There was a violent screech of metal against metal as the train halted, the Boston railway station just visible in our sights, since we took refuge in the farthest carrier.

Bob and I peeked our heads out and saw 735 Engine's conductor jump out of the first carrier, signalling to the station's porter to announce the engine's arrival.

"This is our chance to flee unnoticed." Bob suddenly said, quickly gathering his belongings and handing me my own luggage. As our eyes met, he added, "There's a tunnel a few yards back- I saw it when we crossed it. We can go through it and meet the road."

Hence we gathered ourselves, double checked our things and slipped out of the carrier as quietly as possible. The engineer or the conductor must not see us, because passengers were least expected to board the 735 Engine.

The rail track on which we were now walking on was covered with ivy and mounds of mud. With a gleeful smile, I skipped on the boulders that lay there, adorned with overgrown weeds and moss. As I looked up, Boston's sky was as pretty as I have imagined. It was navy blue, with puffs of clouds floating here and there. The sunshine gleamed on the mildly snowy ground which Bob and I crossed, seeking the promised tunnel.

The said tunnel finally came into our view. As its surroundings, it was covered with moss and ivy, and gave an opening to a stone staircase that most led to the outermost city. Upon exchanging an excited glance, Bob and I hurried inside the tunnel and climbed the stone staircase. We met with an extravaganza of a view.

Boston was a bustling city. Just like its sky and ground, the overall city was spectacular. The cosmopolitan environment gave rise to numerous buildings and apartments before us, all of which were constructed with red bricks and were adorned with billboards and banners. The people around us were dressed in the prime time coats and blouses, the fashion which screamed the trends of the 60s. Their faces were colourful and full of confidence, as they bustled about their own businesses. The children roaming everywhere were brimmed with flavour, either laughing with their childlike innocence or munching on their fruity delights. There were vendors near the railway station, selling casual snacks. A mailman cycled into our view, dodging the people nearby. The cars honked noisily, existing in different shape, colors and sizes. The main road was large and tar black, opening into four sections. People roamed everywhere and there was restlessness on every fibre of their bodies. Such was the environment of a city. This was Boston.

To my eyes, everything seemed orange and red coded. The snow which shone on the ground added a beautiful touch to the city's present spectre, like frosting on a red velvet cake.