The Passenger Train to Love

           Steven gazed spellbound out the window at the blurs of trees, hydro poles, and rail markers as they raced past his window while he sat in the dining car of the Amtrak train from Chicago to St. Louis.

           When he left Union Station in Chicago at 7:15am, the sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. Steven had one thing on his mind, to locate the one person in the world who he couldn’t stop thinking of…Marie Aubert.

           They had met one night at a jazz and blues club called Green Mill in uptown Chicago. From the moment Steven entered that faded blue door, the sound of Marie’s voice had him in a hypnotic trance.

           She was the feature act that night at the club, and the place was packed. There were no tables left, so Steven stood by the bar. A teal-colored picket fence divided the stage from the seating area, and a red curtain functioned as the backdrop for the band.

           The lights were dimmed over the audience, and the room fell into near silence as Marie began her next number, a classic hit by Ella Fitzgerald titled, Cheek to Cheek. Steven felt as if she were singing directly to him as their eyes met for a moment, though brief.

           When her first set had ended, Steven nervously approached Marie, introduced himself, and offered to buy her a drink. She gladly accepted, and they spent the next fifteen minutes in deep conversation.

           Unbeknownst to Steven, Marie had grown up just a few blocks from him, but they had attended different schools. He was amazed that it had taken so long for them to meet. She had taken the stage once again, but this time, Steven decided to stand closer to this interesting woman.

           The show had ended, and Steven had offered his phone number to Marie, half-expecting her to throw it away once he left the club that night. He told Marie that if she would like to get together some day, to give him a call, and they parted ways.

           A few days had passed and still no call from Marie. Steven was downhearted and chose to walk down to the club and see if she was performing. A different act was on-stage, so Steven asked the bartender what night Marie would be back on. He said that she had left on tour to St. Louis.

           With two weeks of vacation time still owed to him at work, Steven made the arrangements, bought a round-trip ticket to St. Louis, and boarded the train. He had no idea how he was going to find Marie, but something inside him would not let her go.

           As he wandered from car-to-car, Steven passed by a passenger listening to soft jazz music on his iPad. The sound of it reminded him once again of Marie. He made his way to the coach car where he connected his phone to the Wi-Fi and began to search the St. Louis listings for all the jazz clubs. He was surprised at how many there were.

           Around 12:45pm, the trained pulled into St. Louis Gateway Transportation Center, a crowded train station in the downtown core, just a few blocks from Busch Stadium. Buskers stood outside the station blowing on trumpets and trombones while passers-by tossed loose change into a dirty, black fedora that laid upside-down upon the ground in front of them.

           As he looked around, Steven was astounded by the massive murals painted on the sides of buildings of some of the jazz greats. The hotel he was staying at was walking distance from the train station, so he grabbed his suitcase and began his trek along Clark Avenue, then south on South 14^th Street to the OYO Hotel St. Louis Downtown.

           At $190 per night, it was one of the cheapest in the area, but it was equipped with an indoor swimming pool, a gym, and a beautiful restaurant with hardwood floors, red walls and ceilings, and wooden tables. The front lobby was decorated with red accents as well.

           His room had a king-sized bed and a walk-out to a balcony overlooking the street below. He quickly unpacked his suitcase, laid his list of jazz clubs on the table, and began calling each of the clubs to find out who was performing.

           Many of the clubs were not open in the early afternoon, and the ones that were, said that nobody named Marie Aubert was on the performer list all that week. While waiting, he decided to take in the sights.

           First stop, the Gateway Arch, a 630-foot-high stainless-steel monument that sits next to the Mississippi River. Standing proud since 1965, it still attracts as many tourists now as it did then. It was rumored that the arch was originally built to control Midwestern weather patterns.

           Steven boarded the tram at the base of the arch and marvelled at the smoothness of the ride as it carried the passengers up sixty-three stories to the best view in the city. After exiting the tram, Steven climbed ninety-six steps to the top of the arch. He looked out upon the mighty Mississippi just as a riverboat left the dock. It was a magnificent sight to see and experience.

           It was just an hour away from when the remainder of the clubs would be opening, so Steven decided to stop for a bite to eat first. A local resident recommended a place downtown called, Cardinals Nation, a sports bar on Clark Street.

           Steven ordered ribs and a pint of Budweiser. When the food arrived, he was amused to see that the dinner plates were designed to resemble large baseballs. The food was delicious, but he was still anxious to find Marie, so he quickly finished, paid his bill, and headed back to the hotel.

           After making a few more calls, he found out that Marie was scheduled to perform at a club called, Jazz St. Louis, a popular jazz club known throughout the United States. As he walked in, he spotted autographed pictures hanging on the wall of musicians like Wynton Marsalis, Diana Krall, and Harry Connick Jr. The crowd was lively and loud as they waited for the band to set up.

           Steven tried to look across the crowded room toward the stage, hoping to see Marie, but the room was too dense with people. He needed to move closer for a better look. As he neared the stage, a familiar face caught his eye. It was Marie.

           She appeared to be discussing the set list with one of the band members. Steven tried to move in closer but was shoved to the side and knocked into another patron, spilling beer onto the man’s shirt and the floor. The man turned around, and without saying a word, punched Steven across the jaw, knocking him out cold.

           When Steven regained consciousness, his vision was blurry, and sound was muffled for a minute or two. When things became clearer, he spotted to men standing over him. He started to panic, but standing between the two men, he saw his Marie.

           A smile lit up across his face, and then upon hers immediately afterward. He tried to sit up but became dizzy. Marie pushed her way through the two men and grabbed onto Steven’s hand.

           “What are you doing here in St. Louis,” she asked.

           Steven replied, “Chicago wasn’t the same since you left, Marie.”

           Marie apologized for not calling him. She explained that her road manager arranged for the gigs in St. Louis, and she had to leave the following day. She insisted that she was going to call when she got back to Chicago but was too busy since he last saw her.

           Steven forgave her and said that he was simply happy that he was able to track her down. He then asked her if she was about to start her set, but she had already finished for the night. Steven had been unconscious in the dressing room throughout the performance.

           The following day, Steven and Marie spent most of the day walking around St. Louis. Then Steven went with her to the jazz club and was able to see the entire performance this time. Her tour of Missouri was going to last a few days longer than what Steven could stick around for, so they agreed to meet up again when she returned.

           On the day she was supposed to arrive, Steven waited at the train station for Marie. Her train was scheduled to arrive at 4:45pm, and he was there at 4:00pm just to be sure it didn’t arrive early.

           When 4:45 arrived, Steven waited eagerly by the gate, but after a few minutes had passed, no passengers exited. He waited longer, but still nothing. Steven went to the ticket desk and asked why the train had not yet arrived from St. Louis, and the girl behind the counter explained that there had been a terrible accident, but she did not have all the details yet.

           Steven shook with fear that something terrible had happened to Marie. Every ten minutes or so, he would go ask the girl at the ticket counter if she had heard any more news. After thirty minutes, a breaking news report came on the television that was mounted on the wall in the lobby. The reporter spoke of a tragic accident involving a derailed Amtrak train and a tanker truck that was hauling fuel. They said that very few survivors had been found at that point, but emergency crews were still searching the wreckage.

           Steven’s heart dropped. All he could think about was losing Marie so soon after finding her again. He sat down in one of the seats, leaned forward and cried into his hands. His imagination began to get the best of him as he heard someone calling his name. It sounded just like Marie.

           He ignored the voice and continued crying. That was when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder lightly. Steven jumped suddenly at the touch. He spun around and found that his vision was still unclear through the tears, so he wiped them dry and focused to see the person that touched his shoulder.

           It couldn’t be, but it was her; it was Marie! Steven thought he was staring at a ghost. It was impossible for her to be there. Even if she survived the wreck, she would never have made it to Chicago so soon after.

           Marie spoke up and told Steven that her band members took the train, but she wanted to see him sooner and decided to fly. Now she waited to hear from anyone in her band, but nobody was answering their cellular phones.

           They sat together and waited to hear more news, and after an hour had passed, Marie received a call from her road manager. Her band members had all perished during the crash. Marie was devastated and Steven held her tightly and consoled her while she cried.

           The remains were shipped back to Chicago, and Steven and Marie attended each of the funerals together. It was weeks before she was able to take the stage again, and even then, she had a challenging time keeping her composure.

           She performed acapella and dedicated the first number she sang to her deceased band members. She chose Ella Fitzgerald once again. This time it was a beautiful ballad about death titled, Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall.

           The crowd sat in silence as Marie exhausted every bit of emotion that had been enveloped within her since the funerals. When the last note faded, the audience stood in a lengthy standing ovation.

           The rest of the night was easier to perform. She told Steven later, that it was if she could hear her band’s instruments playing in her ears while she sang, and it felt like they were with her still.

           In time, the love between Steven and Marie began to flourish. Marie had gotten herself a new band and continued to perform, but whenever she needed to go on tour, Steven would travel with her. They did not want to go through the fear of losing one another ever again.

           As they boarded the train together, Marie hesitated. Steven squeezed her hand tightly and stared deeply into her eyes and said that no matter what happens, they will have each other.