Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

bizarre thoughts! And frighteningly-surreal images! Again, bringing into focus (so called) some of his grandfather’s more abstract “ramblings”!

There had been times—actually, numerous occasions—when the old man had absolutely dwelled, on the intriguing subject, of traveling backward (or forward) in time! There had never been the slightest doubt—that the concept had completely fascinated Grandpa!

The elderly one had always thought that such an “outlandish” voyage—was a most-definite possibility! On the other hand, he’d had to (reluctantly) admit, that he couldn’t possibly imagine how such a far-fetched journey—either to the past, or into the future—could ever be accomplished!

“It’d take someone… smarter than you or me,” he’d always maintained. He’d repeated the statement—so many times. And, always—without exception—his tone of voice had been stunningly wistful! Still, Jason had always recognized that “far-away” look—in his grandfather’s eyes—whenever he’d reflect, on such things! Well, he’d always seen it—but, was never able to, accurately, analyze it!

Our Hero’s head, by then, was aching! Badly! A bit of a surprise. The nagging malady was a condition—that had, probably, been with him, for awhile. Stunningly, he seemed—only then—to have become aware, of the throbbing hurt. And just how irksome the pain was becoming! Had become!

He’d never experienced anything like this before! Any of this! Nothing close! Maybe everything—all this disjointed mess, that was assaulting his fragile psyche—maybe, it was all simply a bad dream! Maybe none of “any of this crap” had actually happened!

Maybe, any second now, his eyes would snap open—and he’d find himself back, in his hokey, “crappy”, stupid, old Murphy bed. The WTC towers would still be—beautifully—intact! Hopefully, he’d soon be awakening—and thanking God, that he’d been extricated, from such a horrible, such a damnably-realistic nightmare.

Jason looked off to his right—and froze in his tracks! He really—really and truly—must be, in some kind of Bizzaro world! He was patently unraveling! No other word for it! Unraveling! Big time!

What he saw—what he thought he was looking at—was totally impossible! Completely beyond the remotest realm, of possibility! This inexplicable vision! This had to be some kind—of deranged mirage! Something from out of some unknown—some far-fetched, some surreal—universe! The image was unexplainable! That was the only explanation! An inexplicable mirage! Or, quite possibly, a total—a complete and utter—hallucination! He was—obviously—flat-out, “losing it”! Had—totally—lost it! His brain! It must be frying! Turning to jelly!

He blinked—hard! Twice! Three times! But, the obvious impossibility—the outlandish mirage—was still there! He shook his head—vigorously—from side to side! The desperate exercise—was not helping his headache! He looked again! The image remained! Exactly where it had been sitting! He still couldn’t fathom the totally-disjointed sight!

Some kind of Black Magic? Maybe Satan was—personally—involved in the holocaust, in Manhattan! In the entire travesty! In everything! Could this be—could it be—the End of The World? Is this Armageddon?

There—smack dab in the middle of an immense, open, grassy-green, field—sat a full-sized train! A real one! Well, that’s what it looked like, anyway! One that appeared—to be a real-life version, of one of Grandpa’s little locomotive sets! Steam was actually pouring out of this one’s stack!

An old-style locomotive! A really old one! From the forties! Blinking again, it seemed—to Jason—that this almost had to be a real one! An actual train! A steam locomotive! Impossible? Of course! But, to Our Hero’s badly-troubled—grossly-overheated—mind, that’s certainly what the, possibly-evil, image appeared to be! Was this from The Devil—himself?

Thought Jason: Even in my totally-screwed-up state . . . this can’t be! Cannot be! Oh . . . who the hell knows?

Upon closer inspection, the passenger cars did look somewhat different—from those that he’d always seen, on that old bedroom door. The gorpy-looking wooden slab—located atop those old sawhorses, in the Piepczyk basement! No Sunoco tank car, for openers! But—looking again—they were, maybe, not that dissimilar! The entire “mirage” was a brain-warper! It had to be—just that! A cockamamie mirage!

This strange train—whatever it may prove to be—was just sitting there! Sitting there! Seemingly, the ancient locomotive—was building up a head of steam! A substantial head of steam! Apparently a lot of coal had been shoveled—from the tender! Preparing the train to go! To go—where?

Come on! This whole thing has gotten freaking ridiculous! Completely out of hand! There were never any stupid railroad tracks—right there! None! None—that had ever run parallel, to Michigan Avenue, for God’s sake! Ever! Undoubtedly, Jason was badly hallucinating! Was, in fact, “abusing the privilege”! Oh, wonderful!

That was all he’d needed—given the way the disheveled day had already gone! What a “wonderful” topper! “The Maraschino Cherry”—for his entry into an obviously-warped, Bizzaro, world! What an ironic way—to cap the Picasso-portrait day! He was—for sure—losing his mind! Probably, he’d already lost it! He was going—absolutely bonkers! Had, probably, already gone—totally crazy!

Still—illusion, or not—Jason headed toward the locomotive. How could he not? It would be impossible to resist! It was impossible to resist! The old Moth-To-The-Flame concept! As much of a “train nut”—as he’d become, over the years—how could he not approach it? How could he not—impatiently—“scope it out”? Dream or not, he’d never gotten this close—to an actual train! Not like this one! Not like one of these! Not something—out of the thirties! Or, maybe, the forties!

As wrapped up as he’d always been—with such locomotives—he could never have allowed himself—to forego, such a glowing opportunity! Even on such a totally-disoriented day, as this! A supposedly once-in-a-lifetime chance—for him to take an up-close look! Who knew what he’d find? Who knew what to expect? Who knew anything?

Hell, maybe he’d wake up—before he actually got to the train! And, of course, the classic would, obviously, disappear! Would evaporate! Of course it would! Maybe the certain hallucination would turn out to be a—a cargo ship! That was not any more far-fetched—than this! Maybe the “mirage” would alter its image—the closer he approached! Turn into a truck! Or, possibly, a bus! Or (who knew?) maybe an airplane! Or, yes, maybe even a stupid blimp! Maybe, he’d wind up—looking at the Hindenburg! Or, possibly—somehow—a damn football field! Or a stupid parking meter! Or a damn fire hydrant—or freaking something!

Be that as it may,