Time was, Rita loved the clickity-clackity of steel wheels on metal rails,
the long, low sound of a whistle at midnight and noon.
For many, the coal-oil scent of trains,
the sight of rails disappearing over the horizon
quickened the heart, caused feet to roam.
Not for Rita. She spread roots and settled.
Then the hoot of the whistle turned to squealing brakes.
Metal grinding on metal replaced the rhythmic clickity-clack
and an iron-scent of blood filled the air.
How many times had she told little Tom, “Keep your coins in your pocket.”?
She hefted her suitcase and locked the door.
In many ways a sad conclusion. Although we all eventually settle, it is a shame about the consequences.
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Thanks, James. I think the rooting part is me. I love staying in one house, in one town. Moving from place to place is disruptive in my world.
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Tell me about it. I just counted 27 different places I have lived since I was born – I’m shocked.
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I did archeology for a few years, moved from place to place. Lived in tents, hotel rooms and trailers. Keeping all my favorite things in storage made me crazy.
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I loved “the long, low sound of the whistle at midnight and noon”
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Thanks, Neil.
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What a tragic end to her little boy. She’s leaving now. Beautiful.
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Children don’t often listen. Thank goodness their lack of attention doesn’t always lead to tragedy. Thanks so much for reading my wee tale and leaving a reply.
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Your descriptions are superb here, although I am just slightly confused as to what had happened to Little Tom. I had to re-read the story a few times to conclude that perhaps he died and she is leaving to escape the memories?
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Ah, yes! That makes sense. The title is part of the story and perhaps not everyone is familiar with putting coins on railroad tracks to smash them. Thanks for re-reading to figure it out. Yes. Little Tom was hit by a train, doing what his mother told him not to.
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Ohh I see! No, I wasn’t familiar with that particular pasttime! Lol
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How sad that this is what moves her on. The sound of a train will always bring back horrible memories. The description is moving, well told.
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Yes, it will. From comfort to distress in a single moment. Thanks for reading and commenting, Brenda.
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This is so tragic but very beautifully done.
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Thanks so very much. Happy Holidays.
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Happy Holidays to you too.
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Excelent tension in this piece. Well done.
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Thanks!
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Beautiful descriptions in your tragic story.
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Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment!
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There’s an underlying sadness here right from the start, and it crashes into reality with the iron smell of blood. Excellent.
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Thank you. You just made my day. Happy Holidays!
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Dear Lish,
There’s nothing more tragic than a mother outliving her child. Beautifully and poetically told.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Oh, thanks!
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Traveling is okay, but home–with its scents and sounds and more–feels so much better.
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I agree 100%. Thank you, Magaly
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A bit of a shock at the end, poor Tom. Great writing.
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Thanks, Iain. There were several kids killed in Denver doing this exact same thing while I was growing up.
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Someone came under the wheels of train? Why is she leaving?
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Her son, while putting a coin on the tracks to be smashed when the train rolled by. Rita is leaving because her house by the tracks is no longer a comfort. Thanks for wondering.
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This was quite a remarkable re-run of my childhood. I remember crouching by the rail-tracks, laying coins on the rails and never really moving very far away as the train came. Looking back, even if we didn’t get killed by the on-rushing loco there was a good chance we’d have been killed stone dead by a flying coin. Beautifully done, Alicia.
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Thanks, Sandra. As I told Iain, several children were killed in both ways while I was growing up in Denver. Thank goodness I didn’t know any of them. Happy Holidays!
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Heartbreaking. I can’t say I blame her for moving on. My heart would break every time I heard the train too.
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Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Kestril. Rita will need to move far from any railroad.
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Oh poor Tom! She’ll never escape that no matter where she goes.
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Oh, so very true. Thanks, Louise. (P.S. I’m enjoying catching up on reading your books. I order them from the library!)
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Thank you!
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This really took me back to my childhood. The railway ran past the bottom of our garden and my mates and I loved putting halfpennies on the track so they got flattened into pennies that fitted a sweetie slot machine! Thinking back, we did take risks!
Click to read my FriFic tale!
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And most of us lived to tell it. Sometimes I think today’s kids are overprotected. Thanks for sharing your memories. I will need to Google the sweetie slot machine.
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Such a tragic end. I remember kids at school showing off their train-crushed coins – it could have been them…
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I’m glad my wee tale is bringing back memories for so many FF members! The comments are fun to read. Thanks, Ali
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You tell that story beautifully, Lish.
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Thanks, Penny
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Living next to a railway, I can’t tell you how many times coins have been placed on the rails. Never heard of a child dying but I my dog did lose her head. Literally. Thankfully we didn’t see her but her body was found and my husband identified it. But the next day the railroad people gave us her collar which confirmed it all. I only hope no children saw the remains… ugh.
As for your story, I think I would move on, too… so tragic.
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Whoa! So sorry about your doggie. That must have been awful! Thanks for reading and sharing.
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It was awful. I’m just glad I saw nothing….
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it must be disheartening to lose a son like that. well told.
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Oh! I would think so. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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Did he do that thing where you put an coin on the track to see what will happen?
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Yes.
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Having put a few pennies on the tracks myself as a child, I’m glad to have avoided this scenario.. But maybe that’s because I never met Rita…
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I never did because my mom, Rita, told me not to. She was a wise woman.
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Wonderful imagery. Us kids used to put pennies on the tracks all the time growing up. Nicely done
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Thanks very much! Happy Holidays!
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Such a tragic end… and I feel in the end you learn that roots are not the soil or the landscape but also the people around you… when they are gone you have to leave.
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Thank you, Bjorn! Wise words indeed. Happy Holidays.
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Her calm demeanor is disturbing.
Well done.
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Hard to show true emotion in 100-words ;-). Thanks! Happy Holidays.
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Heartbreaking story, Lish. I can see why she wanted to pull up her roots and move on.
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Thanks, Russell.
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Poor Tom, what a thing to have on your conscience, no wonder Rita is moving on.
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Great story by the way. 🙂
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Ha! Thanks very much! Happy Holidays.
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You create the mood and sense of place so vividly. Liked the way you build up the sense of unease right from the start. Well done.
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Thanks for your kind words, Alicia. Happy Holidays!
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Oh my gosh. So sad. The noise of a train always reminds me of work. Soumd and noise is a powerful memory trigger. Well done
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Thanks, Laurie. Sound and scents ~ HUGE triggers. So glad you stopped by.
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