A Moving Rendezvous

I wrote this short story while riding on the train from Seattle to Eugene on a large folded Amtrak napkin. Here's proof I can do subtext. Enjoy.

The Coast Starlight

For once the train was on time. She gazed out the window of the lounge car with mild interest. The typically gray Pacific Northwest sky did nothing to liven the endless green landscape. She sighed and looked at her watch-again. She knew the time and the scenery all too well. She made this trip countless times. The train slowed to a stop long enough for people to come and go. A few minutes later a man came into the car looking about as he walked down the aisle. 

“Is this seat taken?” he indicated the seat next to her. She sized him up before answering . He was tall and slender in a healthy way with a well toned chest stretching a dark t-shirt. His hair was as dark as his eyes-the gaze inquisitive but not intrusive. She shook her head and he sat down, stowing a small carry-on bag under his feet. 

“Thank God the train was on time.” he said, making small talk.

“Yes, last week it was over two hours late due to track work in Tacoma. Hellish.”  she added with slight irritation. She reached for her drink on the narrow ledge under the window .

“Blame UP, that company doesn’t give a damn about passenger rail ‘let them be late’ could be their motto.” his disdain equal to hers. They looked at each other for an unusually long time. He thought her long blonde hair framed the oval face attractively. Her blue eyes though, were cloudy, masking her state of mind. 

“We shouldn’t complain, we get to our destination without crashing out of the sky and never have trouble finding our luggage.” she  offered and put her empty glass down.

“This is true.”  he agreed. After a moment of idle gazing out the window, she removed a slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to him without ceremony. 

She got up and headed to the rear of the train where the sleeping compartments were and slipped into one. She  placed a blanket and two pillows on the narrow bed. It will do, she noted as she removed her shoes, dress skirt and shirt. A few minutes later there was a light tapping on the door.

“Come in.” she commanded as she sat on the bed removing her watch. The man from the lounge car entered and locked the door behind  him.

“No one saw you come here?” it was more a verification than a concern to her. He shook his head, he found her paranoia absurd. He dropped his bag and quickly undressed to join her on the bed.

They let nothing to the imagination but then they needed no exposition to explain their liaison. They were quick and volatile, writhing together to release pent up energy as the train rattled on. The narrowness of the bed encouraged the intertwining of their bodies as they fought to cross the finish line first. The release was palatable as they sank into their separate reveries; their bodies relaxed and spent from the effort. He looked down at her face, so serene and calm. So unlike the passive mask she wore as protection against the world.

He shifted his weight, his leg sticking slightly on her warm thigh. He was glad he pleased her. They remained still as a voice on the PA announced their next arrival in Portland. 

“You have to get off here?” she asked, wishing to linger in the moment. He mentally rescheduled his plans. His meeting with the bank could wait until the end of the week. He would spend the day in SF to finish some other business then shop for his daughter’s birthday present. What did teenagers like these days, he wondered, suddenly feeling his age creep up on him. He shook his head at her question.

“Whatever it is can wait.” he replied, his face revealing nothing. but he saw her regret before it slipped behind her own veil. She rose suddenly, pushed him aside and dressed quickly.

“It can never wait.” she said in her usual brittle tone.

“I’m doing everything I can to accommodate you.” he insisted, stung by her accusation.

“On a fucking train?” she snapped, oblivious to the pun she committed. It wasn’t like her to be so blunt and she smiled weakly in apology. He impulsively took hold of her wrist.

“We don’t have to be on the move, we can stay wherever we end up.”  he meant it, she realized, registering his pleading expression. She considered this for a long time as she gathered her things.

“I like traveling on the train.” she replied.

This is your brain on aikido

It ‘s Thursday, time for Aikido class. I grab my gym bag and head off to the dojo a few blocks away from home. I have trained off and on for years. The off occurring when I get irked at the sensei, or annoyed by my pansy ass lack of discipline. That’s the way it goes sometimes.

Aikido is a Japanese martial art developed in the 1930’s from a blend of judo, Daito-ryu jujitsu, kendo with a dose of Shinto and Buddhist philosophy thrown in for good measure. What makes Aikido different from the other martial arts is the strong emphasis on Ki- or universal energy.

Ki is hard for the western mind to grasp. Everything is made of ki and it flows in all directions. By unifying mind and body you can access this energy and use it to fill your life. When I explain this to most people they just look blankly at me until I tell them it’s like the force in Star Wars. Then I show them “unbendable arm”. I hold my arm out in front of me in a relaxed but focused state as I extend ki and it is impossible for them to bend the arm no matter how they try. It’s great for winning bar bets.

I like the class and the way the arts provide physical feedback of the abstract concepts we’re taught. I had a head start with my exposure to Zen Buddhism. Little did I know how long it would take to really grasp the concept of ki- way too long, I muse for the thousandth time as I change in the dressing room.

You don’t need great physical strength to do Aikido which suits me fine; a casual glance at my beer keg physique reveals I’m not an active person. The toughest part is putting on the hakama.

As a black belt one is required to wear the traditional wide pleated black pants that looks like a skirt, over your gi pants. It’s tied around the waist with two long belts involving an elaborate bow in the front. It’s an honor to wear one but there are drawbacks. One trips on it frequently when getting up from sitting seiza or while doing an art. It’s hot in the summer and forget about going to the bathroom in a hurry.

Aikido is a purely defensive art, where one learns to blend harmoniously with an opponent in a kind of dance; deflecting and dissolving the attack without anyone being harmed.

Tonight is the advance class which meant hard work. The class is split in two, the lower ranked students to one side, the black belts on the other. I pair off with Dennis who is the size of the average apartment building, he doesn’t faze me at all. I like to work with the big guys, then I know I have to use ki and not muscle to lead them.

We bow to each other and begin as the sensei calls out the maneuvers. Dennis raises his arm and charges at me, intending to whack me square on the head. I turn out of the way just before his arm comes down, avoiding the blow, then sweep him in a graceful arc with one hand in front of him like a carrot on a stick, the other hand nestling his head. My hand comes down close to his face and he falls, executing a perfect backward roll that brings him to his feet again. In the next maneuvers he trys to punch me in the stomach. Ah my favorite move.

I glide out of the way of the blow at the last instant, gently take his hand like coaxing a child to come along, and we travel in a circle. I reverse direction abruptly causing his wrist to bend in my grasp. I lead his hand down, then toss him away like a dish towel, he flies into the air making a loud thud as his weight hits the mat.

The sensei debriefs me on my technique and we switch places. It’s a silly sight, a five foot woman ferociously attacking a large man, but he deflects the blow and throws me easily. By the time we finish, we are both panting and sweaty. As class ends, we all line up and bow to the front then thank each other.

A lower ranked student asks to fold my hakama and I’m grateful for the offer. For me it’s the only perk of being a sensei as I don’t feel any different from any other student most of the time. Sensei means “ one step ahead “ but I think it means “You have to act like you know what you’re doing”. That’s the real challenge in aikido.

Day Tripper

Gad! I have been unable to come up with anything new and creative so for your enjoyment (or boredom), here is an account of a trip I took to Portland a couple of years ago but is one of my favorite essays.

I had been in my house for too long and I had to get out of town or go crazy. This calls for a trip to Portland. I arranged to stay at a friend’s apartment and travel by train along with my trusty bike to get me around. Normally Portland is rainy, as the northwest usually is, but this time it was hot and dry and I mean HOT. Upon arrival I have to get a bike permit from Tri-met, the transit service. A bike rack is a pretty simple affair but they make you watch a cheesy video designed for morons before letting you pay them five dollars for the permit. I am now the proud owner of another plastic card to put in my wallet. Joy.

First on the list is the Japanese garden, one of my favorites places. I'm at the garden high in the hills overlooking Portland, the air still and heavy with heat. I looked at Mount Hood off in the distance floating above everything like an apparition. The sound of a flute comes from the interior of the large Japanese style pavilion behind me. Oddly though, when I look inside a few minutes later no one is there. Interesting.

When I left I decided to ride down the hill rather than take the bus. It will be easier I think, because it's downhill, right? Big mistake. It was nerve wracking trying to keep the bike from pitching me off as I went down the steep path through a park. Images of the brake cable snapping or hitting a hole and being thrown face first into concrete keep me company as I squeezed both brakes slowing my descent. I came out on Burnside ( a busy street) and frankly after that, merging with the traffic was kind of a relief. Once I got the hang of it biking through downtown was actually enjoyable -except for the streetcar tracks and all the one way streets.

Hot, tired and very thirsty I stopped at the next restaurant I saw in sheer desperation. Jake's Grill, adjacent the Governor's Hotel is one of Portland's oldest. I was told it was a speakeasy the thirties. Very classy place, heavy dark wood paneling, thick columns and a tiled floor. I had crab and shrimp cakes and a glass of wine ( which I do not recommend when riding in the heat). Sated and ready I headed off for what I thought would be a leisurely ride along the river.

Nope. My friend, whose place I’m staying at, assured me the bike path was an easy ride. It was more like a safari. The path was clear, wide and well marked until you left condoland, then it rapidly turned into a ride thru industrial land then after detours and head scratching, a path winding pass more condos, neat little houses clustered by the river and finally up an embankment to the Sellwood Bridge which had a narrow sidewalk on one side of the two lane bridge that required you to hug the concrete railing when meeting a jogger or bike going in the opposite direction. Yep, that was real fun. (Note to self: never listen to friend’s directions).The evening was mercifully quiet.

The next day started out with an occurrence that no matter how much planning on my part always mars a trip. My period. " It's early? Oh that's ok I'll start now and here, have some nasty cramps you don't normally have for good measure." Grrr. Sitting around waiting for pain killers to take affect is not my ideal way to start the day. It's just as well, the day was another scorcher. I biked up to 13th ave. to get lunch and check out the antique shops along the street. I bought a beautiful T-shirt with a bamboo motif. The shirt I had on was, after a yesterday’s trek, really stinky. It was a good excuse to buy the shirt .

I decided to check out Oaks Amusement park down the road . It was a neglected cluster of rides on an asphalt field. It had potential as a fine amusement park but that day it was mostly empty in the heat of midweek. I looked around with a critical eye like an investor. Commuter train track just outside the parking lot, nearby pond, good size for boats, ski jets etc. Good location. Wooded park overlooking the place, close to town. "If you build a premiere roller coaster they will come." I heard in my head. The staff of teenagers fresh out of high school looked bored and hot as I tried out the go-carts and small roller coaster.

Tired from the heat I stop by the apartment for a cool shower and decide on dinner. I wisely let the bus transport me and the bike into town. I went in search of a restaurant I had gone to once before. "Sushi Takahashi", oh I love sushi. [this restaurant is no longer there alas].

The place proved to be crowded and warm as the air conditioner couldn't keep up. It had once been a seafood place as the decor, cartoony fish and ocean waves painted on the walls indicated. Now a long sushi bar with stools filled the middle of the vast room. Instead of a conveyer belt or a channel of water with little boats, ( my favorite cheesy motif) to bring out the food, there was a -train. Two engines, larger than O gauge, with twenty flat cars chugged around carrying plates of rolls and sashimi. The chefs, none of them Japanese, were young punker types wearing engineers caps and kerchiefs and the well tattooed waitresses completed the cultural collision to mind fuck proportions. Every time the little engine came around I half expected to see Jon Voight strapped to the front of the yellow engine like the Film "Run away Train" Thank god the food was worth the wait.

I had time to make a cursory visit to Powell's books before heading down to the train station for the trip home. Next time I go the day after my period ends and when it's cooler.

Pure Poetry

The Watch

I have a watch I said-watch.
A marvel of mechanical magic, held out before me.
The phases of the moon, stars and mythical creatures
Whirl in an arc across it’s face.
I opened it to show my sister, it moved in my hand.

Ptolemy the immortal gave us a show,
A heaven of spheres spin and shrink-
One inside the other with the Earth at it’s core.
“I don’t understand this.” Sister halted us with a comment.

Bravely the watch went on as through a gallery we walked.
Before us came dioramas and chimes
Spelling out the story of it all.

Curiosity got the better of her,
Sister stuck her fingers into the cogs,
and the universe altered.
One stone broke off the French Renaissance.
Sister was upset, “I’m sorry I faltered.”
I panicked and gasped “But I just bought this.”
So I surveyed in puzzlement as Ptolemy’s servants
Glued the pieces back together in ignorant bliss.

We continued in time.
It was really quite comical;
Things disappeared right out of our minds,
As monks wrote nonsense in the dark.
Boats wouldn’t float and planets flew on their own.
Strangest of all- people walked backward,
As they pointed ahead crying” This way, this way.”

At last I put the marvel in my pocket for safekeeping,
But when I reached for it later, all I found were loose parts
Mixed in with spare change.
“Oh no!” I cried in dismay,
But somehow I knew,
It would rebuild itself without me.

This poem was based on a dream I had many years ago after purchasing a pocket watch. It's one of the last great vivid dreams I've ever had. These days, my dreams aren't worth shit.

There be Dragons

For a change of pace I offer a little tale for your reading pleasure.

An Encounter With a Dragon

It was a bright, hot summer day for a hike in the foothills of the Cascades. My friend Brandy and I had been hiking for some time and decided to seek shelter from the heat. We discovered a wonderful cave hidden amid a grove of pines and happily put our packs down.
In time we grew curious about the opening and with flashlights in hand, entered the mouth. To our surprise it was quite deep. The cool dampness was a relief but it went on -seemingly endlessly. I stopped in hesitation but my curiosity and Brandy's insistence got the better of me and we pushed on.
Never listen to your friends.
The passage widened and soon we were in a huge cavern. Instead of being cooler it got warmer with a tinge of sulfur in the air. We rounded a corner and stopped in our tracks, dumbfounded by the sight.
Ahead was a very large pile of -stuff. Shiny things of every imaginable size and shape. Coins, vases, hubcaps, several car bumpers, silverware, canteens, goblets, all in an absolute mess of silver, gold, brass and chrome. On top of this large mass was a large dragon sound asleep.
He was at least fifty feet long from head to tail with iridescent scales of green and black; most very sharp and jagged. His wings were folded back against his back as he snored, letting out a prolonged rumble with each breath. The legs were neatly tucked under his voluminous girth like a cat- a huge scaly well armored cat.
“Wow, look at all this cool stuff. “ Brandy practically shouted and I frantically gestured for her to lower her voice. I told her that dragons were very protective of their horde and they don’t like to be disturbed.
“Like you’ve had experience with dragons before?” she narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. I motioned that we should leave quietly and we started back. Just then a large chrome trophy was knocked loose from the horde and woke the dragon. His tail slid in front of our escape route. He spotted us as we stood stock still.
“ What are you doing here?” he growled, his voice rumbling thru us.
“Uh ...nothing. “ I offered timidly. He shifted his tail closer to us, emitting a steaming hiss as he did. Sweat rolled down my back.
“ Trying to steal some of my horde?” he directed one golden eye at us. The vertical pupil widening slightly in the dim light.
“ The what- oh this, we didn’t even notice.” I turned to my friend who nodded vigorously in the same dumb attitude. The end of the tail twitched as he scrutinized us carefully. It wasn’t too close but it was a deadly looking appendage.
“ How could you have not noticed such beauty?” was that a condescending sneer on his face?
“ With that big fat butt of-” Brandy started but I jabbed her in the ribs with my elbow . One simply doesn’t joke with a dragon.
“ How could we possibly notice or care about this glitter compared to your sheer magnificence?” he hummed in pleasure. Brandy raised an eyebrow at my hyperbole.
“ You know I don’t think I have ever seen such stunning scales before. The way they shimmer is breathtaking.” I went on. The stench he produced was far more breathtaking. A combination of sulfur and rotting cabbage or being downwind of a pulp mill on a particularly humid day.
“ Yes they are beautiful.” he purred and stretched out some more, causing the metal under him to clatter loudly. Brandy gestured to me, noticing that his tail had moved a little from the doorway and we took a few steps in that direction.
“But you have not satisfied my question. Why are you here?” he eyed us again, suspicious as ever.
“We got lost. “ Brandy answered honestly. I was about to silence her when I had a sudden inspiration.
“ Yes, and I fear we will never find our way out of this labyrinth and it’s such a gorgeous day outside.” I sighed dramatically hoping the dragon would take the bait. The dragon pondered the information as his tail whipped around like a scarf in the breeze. I had the feeling of being uncomfortably close to the spinning blades of a turbine, waiting to be julienned at any moment.
“ Oh come on Alisa, of course being outside on this sunny day is better than staying in this stinky place, “ Brandy added in the same obsequious tone. The dragon shot her a disapproving glare at her critique.
“I would enjoy the summer air after my pleasant -though interrupted -nap.” he glanced back at his horde contemplating a decision.
“Thank you so much.” I offered as he turned and in one lightening fast movement headed down the passageway. We followed a safe distance behind the the sharp tail, barely visible
as the beam of our flashlights reflected off his scaly form.
Following behind I hope he didn’t poop right now and cringed at the image of having to step over dragon dung. We finally emerged from the cave, squinting at the sharp light. I took a deep breath and realized just how suffocating the air inside had been. The dragon lumbered out toward the pines, his wings brushing the lower branches as he fluttered them. He turned to face us as we retrieved our backpacks.
“ What a lovely day, now isn’t this better than sleeping? Aren’t you glad you came out?” I asked gaily.
“ Hmm it is acceptable weather although I prefer fog so that I may fly over the mountains unseen and rain helps to clean any dirt and such from my scales.” he complained with a yawn. The dragon sat down, crossing his front claws as he stared down at us.
“ Now what will you give me in payment for letting you go?” he demanded imperiously. We looked back at him in shock.
“ Pay? You want us to pay you for getting us out of your-- “ Brandy started, aghast, but I cut her off.
“ -Of course we should repay you for your kindness. “ I said calmly enough but inwardly panicking. What could we possibly give a dragon? I hoped he didn’t eat people. I was a little on the fatty side but Brandy was good eating I decided as I looked at her athletic figure.
Shiny things of course! I thought in a flash and got an idea. I reached into my pack and pulled out a space blanket. It was just a sheet of metallic fabric but it shimmered like reflections off water. The dragon rose to his full height with his eyes wide open.
“ Oh a pretty.” reaching out he snatched it from my hand so quickly I didn’t have time to react. He held it in his sharp claws playing with it gleefully. Brandy took me by the arm.
“ Let’s get out of here before he wonders if we have any more shiny things. “ she said urgently. I nodded assent and grabbing my pack raced down the trail behind her. I could not resist one more look and glancing back, saw the dragon still enthralled with his new toy.