Slow Train to Oblivion

I sat in my sleeper compartment as the train carried me inexorably towards oblivion, a place where I could make the choice between starting a new life, and ending this one before that could happen.

I was not just running away from my old life, I was running away from my old memories, old hurts. Okay, so I'm a coward, what's wrong with that? Someone once said 'he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.' I'm doing the first part, I've fought and bailed before I got too hurt, and I'm about to decide whether I want to fight another day or not fight.

I chose the Ghan for two reasons; as a train it took its own good time getting from Adelaide to Darwin, and that suited me fine, and it crossed some of the most desolately beautiful countryside in the world.

The Ghan was named after the Afghan cameleers who, with their ships of the desert, helped to open up the lines of communication through the centre of Australia. Its predecessor was a slow, rattly, un-airconditioned series of wooden carriages hauled by, firstly steam locomotives and then diesel, along desperately unstable tracks that would buckle under the oppressive heat or disappear under oceans of brown flood waters on the rare occasions that it rained, stranding the train and its passengers for days, sometimes weeks.

The new Ghan was well appointed and airconditioned, it had lounge cars, buffet cars and dining cars, none of which were of particular interest to me. I went to the dining car for meals and stayed only long enough to eat what was put in front of me and not long enough to get involved with my fellow passengers.

I was travelling light, having sold or given away my past life, my memories. I had not much more than the clothes that I wore and a book that I had wanted to read for years but had put off until I saw it on a rack at the rail terminal at Adelaide. After several attempts to get into the book I began to wonder why I had wanted so much to read it, so it sat, without a bookmark, on the table in front of me.

The further the train travelled, the further it took me away from the hurt that was all that was left of my life. A marriage where my wife failed to recognise the potential for a good life, and chose to gain as much, financially, from the debris that she brought about, deliberately. "I want nothing from you." She had said, "It wasn't my money that bought us the house so I won't ask for anything from you. This is not about the money." Bullshit! Then, "I want something but I'll leave enough so that you can start over." Crap! To finally, "I'm entitled to half of everything, so that's what I want." That was more like her!

She wasn't entitled to steal from me the cards that she had given me from before we were married, and that I wanted to keep as precious memories of the good part of our life together. That hurt, just as much, if not more, than the separation.

By now you have probably decided that I am a bitter and twisted person who has no redeeming virtues to warrant you reading any further, and if I were in your shoes I would have to agree with you, but, like the book that I have been trying to get into, the rewards for perseverance may just be worth the effort.

The train pulled into Alice Springs just after lunch on Monday and I got out, more to stretch my legs than see the sights. I walked from the platform and stood outside the station building looking around me, trying to decide how I would spend the next four hours.

"Can't you decide either?"

"I beg your pardon, were you talking to me?"

"Do you see anyone else? Of course I was talking to you. You look like you need someone to talk to."

"Looks can be deceiving." I began to look at her. She was dressed in tailored slacks and a blouse that looked as if it had been starched. She had a wide brimmed hat that shaded a face that looked as if it saw little sunlight. She was tallish, slimmish and middle ageish.

"I've noticed you," she wasn't about to give up on me, "you spend only enough time to eat your meals before scurrying off back to your compartment and hiding from the rest of the world. I always thought that part of the attraction of coming on these long train journeys was so that you could meet new people, not hide away."

"When the world has beaten you hard enough, and often enough, it takes a stronger man than me to face it. I would like to be left alone."

"Pardon me if I disagree, I know enough about human nature to realise that the last thing a person should be when he or she is going through what you have obviously gone through, is alone. I tell you what, you and I will see the sights of this place for the next four hours, we might even have a drink somewhere, or if you don't want a drink, a cup of coffee, and we won't talk about your problems, and, when we get back on the train, if you decide that enough is enough, then so be it. Is it a deal?"

What the hell, there was no stopping this woman, and it would take my mind off my miserable life, at least for a little while. "Okay, deal." I let the exasperation hang there, just so she knew that I was doing it under sufferance and that there was no hope of me wanting to be with her any longer than necessary.

It was depressing, I picked up yet another souvenir, from the stand in the souvenir shop, which looked as if it was hand carved by one of the indigenous people of this land, only to find that it was made in China. Why does the rest of the world have to take advantage of the uniqueness of this country, why can't we?

Cassie, short for Cassandra, we had gotten that far in our relationship, saw me looking at it. "I know, I know, you'd think that the government would whack such a heavy tariff on the importation of these things that it would be cheaper to produce them locally."

For some reason I had a vision of Meatloaf looking at, I think it was Ellen Foley, and singing 'You took the words right out of my mouth.' I stopped the vision right there because I didn't want to remember the next line. I also didn't want to admit that we were thinking along the same lines, that would end in disaster. "While the punters are prepared to buy them they will continue to import these phoneys."

"Let's make a stand! Let's refuse to buy any souvenirs that aren't made in Australia!" She shouted, the whole store screeched to a halt and all eyes were on us. Revolution! Anarchy! Futility. But we did it none the less. We walked from the store souvenirless.

At around 2 o'clock Cassie grabbed my arm. "Brian, I'm just about ready for a cup of coffee." We were, as it happened, standing outside a coffee shop. So, of course we went in. The coffee was passable, the cakes were an improvement on passable and the conversation was refreshing until it got to this. "I don't mean to pry on your private life," Bullshit! "But I think that I can help you. I might have it all wrong but I think your troubles stem from a relationship break down, one that has hurt you more than you thought possible."

"To quote the classic line, 'I refuse to confirm or deny that assumption.' How could you possibly understand what I have gone through." I was just about to add 'because you're a woman', but thought better of it. "I thought that we had a deal."

"Oh all right, we have a deal. If we can't talk about your problems, maybe you can help me with mine." I said nothing and she took that as agreement. "The reason that I'm on this trip is because I've reached the point in my life where I need to get away, have a break, to decide whether I should continue in my present job with no prospect of being able to break through the glass ceiling, or quit and make a fresh start somewhere else."

"And what makes you think that I can help you make that decision."

"Because I get the impression that you've seen a fair bit of the world in your lifetime and experienced the exasperations of not being able to realise your goals or your potential, work-wise that is."

"How could you know that?"

"Because I have seen many men who have experienced your frustrations, enough that I can recognise them a mile away. You have worked in the same job for most of your life and have recently had to face up to the prospect of the young, computer savvy hot-shots, leapfrogging over you when it comes to promotions. You have tried to get your head around the technology but have concluded that the ship has sailed and you have missed the boat, so to speak. To your bosses and workmates alike you are 'Good Old Brian' the guy that gets the job done. Unless you can learn at least the fundamentals of computers you will find yourself on the corporate scrap heap. Am I right so far?"

"Yes. But if I can't solve my own problem, how can I be expected to solve yours?"

"By looking at the options that are open to me. My problem is similar in that you are limited by your lack of computer expertise while I am limited by the very fact that I am a woman. You know more about the mechanics of the job. You were doing it as efficiently, if not more so, before the dependence on computers and could probably run rings around these young guys when it comes to problem solving. I know a lot more than the men in our company because I have been doing it a lot longer than they have. I know the way that the clients wish to be treated, as humans, not numbers, but that doesn't seem to bother the Board of Directors. I believe that reciprocal loyalty with the client is far more desirable than the bottom line."

"Unfortunately that loyalty doesn't always work." I interjected, she had hit on one of my pet subjects, "The bottom line mentality, based as it is on greed, results in both your company, and my former company, looking to maximise the profit potential at the expense of client loyalty, which of course results in the client adopting the same attitude, which also means that if they can get the product that you are selling cheaper elsewhere they will go down that path, and you lose out Everyone goes in ever decreasing circles until they eventually disappear up their fundamental orifices, or is that orofi?"

"See, I knew that you'd understand."

"Understanding the problem doesn't solve the problem. I don't have an answer."

"Yes you do. You have made a decision to leave that situation, it may not have been the main reason that you are on this train, but if you hadn't decided to cut your ties with that company you wouldn't be here, you would have stayed in Adelaide and suffered through the constant reminders of your previous life."

She had a point there. I could have handled my hurt if I had been happy in my job, but because I wasn't, I used that as a catalyst for change. "So, what is holding you back? Why can't you just pull up stumps and leave as I have? What is keeping you in your job?"

"Fear more than anything. Fear of the unknown, fear of making a mistake, fear of losing everything that I have worked for."

"So you're afraid of taking that step? Let's look at the positives. You could find a better job with a company that appreciates your thinking, your concerns for the relationship between the company and the client. You could even take the money that's coming to you in retirement benefits and invest it in your own company. I know," I said holding up my hand to forestall her objections, "that this would be a major leap of faith, but it should be considered."

"If that is your answer, why haven't you done that very thing?"

"I guess I'm feeling that sorry for myself I haven't been able to think straight." She'd managed to turn the subject around to my problems in spite of our agreement but what the hell, we're here now I might just as well keep going. "Depression is a funny thing, the more depressed you get the harder it is to realise that you are depressed and need to do something about it I thought that I was handling things well enough until my boss took me to one side and told me that unless I lifted my game I would have to be 'let go'. I pre-empted that decision by leaving. I thought about investing the money that I salvaged from the property settlement and my retirement package in my own business but, like you I was scared of the next step."

"What business were you in?"

"Transport and logistics, I worked for one of the largest freight companies in the country, I was in charge of the transhipment area where goods was off loaded from trucks onto trains or ships and vice versa. I knew my way around bills of lading and invoices and customs procedures. Now of course everything is bar coded and tracked by computer."

"I was in a similar industry, I was in the travel and tourism industry, and had been since leaving school. That industry sees the role of women as eye-candy in the agencies, selling packaged tours at an inflated price. I thought that we should have been concentrating on client based tailored packages where the client set the agenda and the timeline and we negotiated on his behalf for the best deal."

"Your bottom line was different to your company's so you got no great satisfaction out of your job."

"It got to the point that, in the time it took me to park my car in the employees' section of the shopping mall car park and walk to the office, I had developed a stress headache and would have to take something to get me through the day. To make matters worse, the guys in the office were always going out of their way to promote themselves to the boss, they would go to the hotel for lunch with him, buy his favourite wine for after work drinks, anything to crawl up his arse. I hated it and them."

"Let's get out of here and do a bit more sightseeing before we head back to the train, otherwise we'll end up a couple of jibbering fools crying on each other's shoulders, not that the thought lacks merit."

We spent the next couple of hours just wandering the streets looking in shop windows, checking out the Todd River, the site of the only dry river regatta in the world. We arrived back at the railway station about fifteen minutes before departure. "I need to freshen up before dinner. I'll see you in the Dining Car at six." Cassie seemed to assume that I'd agree to continue our acquaintance. She was right, I enjoyed our time together and was quite looking forward to having someone to talk to over dinner.

Getting back to my cabin I picked up the wretched book and found that I got into it straight away, it was me that was the problem. I devoured forty or so pages before I showered and prepared myself for dinner.

Cassie was already seated at a table when I walked into the Dining Car, I looked at my watch and found that I was actually early. She stood and smiled at me as I approached. She caught me by surprise when she flung her arms around my neck and kissed me hungrily on the lips. "Wow! What have I done to deserve this sort of welcome? Not that I'm complaining mind you."

"I just felt the need when I saw you come in. Oh, and it was also for the benefit of those two guys at that table over there who have been trying to hit on me, I had to show them that I've been taken."

"Have you?"

"Been taken? Yes, I believe I have." She reached across the table and took my hand, "You were a great help to me this afternoon, whether you meant to or not, you have helped me to make a decision on my future. When we get to Darwin I am going to Email my resignation to the company.

"I hope that you aren't being a little hasty."

"No. I thought about it after I left you and I came to the realisation that it was what I had already decided to do, I just needed the impetus to set the ball rolling, and you gave me that."

I don't know whether it was the rhythmic movement of the train, they don't go 'clickety clack' along the tracks any more, not since the concept of continuous long track laying was brought in, but there was still a rhythm about it, or the excellent food, the excellent wine, or just us, the two of us, that made the time together special for me. I have not felt this good for a very long time. And we didn't even talk about our problems, not once.

It was quite late, the Dining Car was almost empty and the tables were being set for breakfast, when we left and I walked her towards her cabin. We walked slowly, I don't think that either of us wanted the evening to end, until we arrived at her cabin door. "Would you like to come in for a little while?"

"Do you think that would be wise?"

"No. But the invitation still stands."

"Much as I've enjoyed our time together this evening, I don't think that this would be a good idea just now. I might be tempted to..." I let the thought hang there.

"I know. I probably would be tempted as well, but, you are right, now is neither the time nor the place for this. I'll see you at breakfast, I'll look forward to seeing you at breakfast." With that she stood on her toes and kissed me, passionately, on the lips before breaking away and slipping through her door.

It was just as well that she did that because I had just begun to close my arms around her and hug her to me, the embrace might not have stopped there and we might not have stopped there.

What is sleep? Sleep is when your body relaxes to the point where all thought leaves you and you shut down to regain your strength. Sleep is not lying awake with your thoughts alternating between was has been and what could be. My thoughts inevitably, as they had done for so long, went back to my miserable past, but then galloped to the now, to the imagined future; what if Cassie and I could get together? What if we could build a relationship together? What if that relationship should move beyond the business, self supporting, self sustaining, into the personal? Could I cope with this? Was I prepared for this? Did I want this?

I can remember at one time, it must have been just before my body cried out to my brain 'enough already' and shut down, I saw the red numerals on my alarm clock telling me that it was 2:30 in the morning. My next waking thought was the alarm going off at 6:30. Time to drag my body out of bed and shower before breakfast, before Cassie.

"You couldn't sleep either." Cassie was somewhat subdued from a lack of sleep.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes. What are your plans for today?"

"We have a four hour stop at Katherine from 9:00, do you want to do the tourist bit here?"

"Only if you do. There probably isn't much else to do, and I wouldn't mind a trip down the gorge, I'm told it's spectacular."

"Okay, we'll do that then. Now, apart from coffee, what would you like for breakfast?" We picked at what was a perfectly good breakfast and had seconds and thirds of the coffee.

As we left the Dining Car Cassie took my hand. "Brian, will you come and sit with me until we get to Katherine, I have something to discuss with you."

"Sure, what do you want to discuss?"

"When we get there."

She had a double cabin with an en-suite, it was very nice, and expensive. "Sit with me." She sat on the edge of the bed and I sat next to her. "Brian, will you kiss me, I mean really kiss me?"

I thought about it for a nanosecond and kissed her, kissed her as I had imagined I would in the early hours of this morning, kissed her as I'd never kissed anyone before. My tongue found her open mouth and waiting tongue, we played tonsil hockey for I don't know how long, but eventually had to surface for breath. "Wow! You obviously have the same thought as I do. For hours last night I lay in bed thinking about yesterday and how absolutely great it was to be speaking to someone who wasn't trying to get into my pants, or trying to prove how much better he was than I. You have no idea how much I appreciated that time with you."

"I have a pretty good idea, the same things kept me awake for most of the night when I was trying to get to sleep and, believe me, I need my beauty sleep."

"Part of me, my stupid brain, told me that I was to lure you into my cabin and make mad passionate love to you, rape you even, but not to let this opportunity slip, while another part of me said to play it cool, take your time and see what develops, and an even other part of me said to stop deluding yourself, that you wouldn't be thinking the same things as me and that it will never progress beyond two lonely people spending a little time together on a train trip."