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Scene #55
The Magical Amulet
Deidre Marcks, reporter for the Galion Inquirer, pulled into the parking lot
of the Big Four Depot and scanned the large deserted building. The sandstone on the bottom
half had darkened with years of soot, while the white paint peeled
from the top half. Dark green paint on the eaves had blistered like
unprotected skin at the beach. Corroded chains drooped from the old
main-door latches. Thin weeds straggled between the crumbling
wooden ties. Not even the bright spring sunshine could lift the
bleak air surrounding the vacant building.
Deidre placed her purse strap over her shoulder and carefully made her way through
the parking lot to the large building, hoping to get a peep inside.
Strong wind gusts blew her long chestnut hair. Black suede
strapped flats crunched on broken asphalt. A strong creosote odor
rose from the tracks. Half the windows were boarded. Others were
covered with layers of newsprint taped haphazardly to the glass.
Deidre wiped at a dirty pane with a tissue from her pocket. When
she heard scratching from the other side, she jumped. "Who's
there? Is someone in there?" Silence prevailed.
The yellowed newsprint prevented her from seeing the interior.
Something about the windows. . . That was it. She didn't remember seeing the paper
covering the windows the last time she'd passed this way—but then
again, she hadn't really paid much attention. The date on the paper
was less than two months old, yet another went back to May of 1897.
Strange. The receptionist at the paper told Deidre the building had
been deserted for ten years. Perhaps something was going on.
She rattled both front doors, but despite the corrosion, the chains and
locks were secure. Deidre brushed her hands together, dusting away
smears of rust from her palms. She heard a scraping sound again.
Watching the hole in the threshold, she witnessed a small, gray
mouse scurrying out from underneath the door. She gave a startled
yelp and jumped back. It sat up and looked at her, then scampered
off.
She wondered if the second floor windows of the depot were
also covered with newspapers, and made her way to the deserted
rusty railway tracks. She stepped over three sets of tracks, pulled
her cell phone from her purse and held it up, and snapped a
picture. Then she shielded her eyes from the sun and stared at the
top floor. Nothing covered the upstairs windows.
Taking a step backward, the toe of Deidre's shoe caught between the track and the
wooden slats. Deidre yanked her foot. "Damn!" She tugged at her foot, but the shoe wouldn't budge. Deidre reached down and tried to unwedge the shoe, nearly losing her balance. She leaned over and tugged at her shoe, then dropped the phone onto the tracks and out
of her reach.
A train whistle blew. She glanced up, but knew
there were no trains that traveled the tracks in many years.
Was that burning coal she smelled? Once more, she reached down,
this time trying to loosen the strap on her shoe with her clammy
hands.
Clickety, clack, clickety clack.
She had to be imagining it. The rusted tracks shook. Could it be an
earthquake? Pulling her shoe harder, Deidre heard the unmistakable
screech of a train whistle. Wiping at the perspiration on her upper
lip, she glanced to her right. A long black train, like those she
viewed in old photos, approached in the distance. Once more, she
stretched, trying to reach her phone to no avail. Fear ran down her spine.
"What's a train doing on this track? Help! Somebody help! I'm stuck!"
Hands shaking, Deidre tugged harder at her foot. Looking once more
to her right, her eyes widened at the sight of the long black steam
engine rushing down the track.
"My God! I'm going to die!"
Sweat ran from her brow. Her trembling fingers worked furiously at her shoes. "Come on, damn it! Come loose! I don't want to die." She worked the strap furiously and yanked her foot, trying anything to get away from the tracks. But her foot wouldn’t budge. The train
rumbled closer towards Deidre. She screamed. Her purse hung on her
arm and the pendant she wore swayed in the breeze.
"Deidre, what in the world are you doing?"
Deidre glanced up. Cooper Weldon ran towards her. She'd never thought the sight of
that man would be so welcomed. If he saved her, she promised
herself she'd never be mean to him again.
"Help me, please! My foot is stuck."
Cooper grabbed her phone and tucked it into her
pocket, then wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged
frantically.
Deidre looked up in time to see the grill on the train connect with the swinging pendant. Like pieces of a puzzle, they connected. Cooper's arms remained fastened around her waist.
They tumbled and fell. Smells of hay, horse manure and creosote wafted by them. Darkness, then sunlight, rain and sleet rushed by. Cooper’s arms fell from around her waist.
Deidre floated downward at the speed of light.
*** Globe, Arizona—1897
"Are you crazy, lady?"
Strong arms wrapped around Deidre, snatching her from the tracks just seconds
before a train passed behind her. Her heart pounded harder than a
tribal drum preparing for war.
Moving away from her rescuer, Deidre caught her balance, and stepped back, only to discover her legs were too weak to stand. The man quickly grabbed her arm to
steady her.
"You look as though you might faint. Perhaps you should sit down." He guided her to a bench.
Deidre’s legs wobbled and she sat with a plunk on the bench. Her head throbbed and her
mind spun, trying to understand what had happened to her. She glanced at the man who'd rescued her. He looked like Cooper, but Cooper didn’t have a dimple in his left cheek, nor the roughish look that made a woman want to fall into his arms.
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