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The sun was shining in Albert’s bloodshot eyes as he sat in a small booth at the window of the Highway 5 truck stop diner. He was finishing his 4th coffee of the morning, milk with no sugar when Sandy Jensen brought the pot over to Albert and refilled his cup.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something honey? Jack makes a great breakfast; eggs, bacon, hash-browns and toast.”
“No, I’m good.” croaked Albert as he continued to stare out the window. He was squinting, trying to avoid eye contact. His eyes were black from lack of sleep and his cheeks left tell-tale signs from his tears. Sandy reasoned it could be from the late night; after all she had started her shift with Albert sitting in the same spot over 7 hours ago. After 12 years of working at the diner she was pretty sure there was something else though, something much bigger.
“All right then dear, you just call if you change your mind.” putting on her best easy-as-you-go smile almost gliding over to the table of regular truckers behind him. The men were all joking together, a bouquet of cigarettes and gasoline followed them and clouded over Albert’s head. The solid thump of age old ceramic mugs hit the laminate table and filled the diner as each man took turns up righting them from their place.
Albert pulled his hands up to his face and began to sob as I’ll be home for Christmas came on the radio. Half way through he lifted his head and wiped his face with a napkin from the dispenser. He started pulling items out of each pocket and laid them out in front of him, lining each item up as if he were taking inventory. Two pens, one wallet, one cell phone, keys, some loose change, and a ticket stub from the movies he and Loretta had gone to the night before with the kids. He picked up his wallet and started pulling the various cards out along with a small amount of cash, laying each item out like a game of solitaire across the table. Albert eyed over the objects, rearranged a few of them, smiled and sipped his coffee as he stood to leave. He was out of the door before anyone noticed.
The black and tan Hummer roared to life and was already making a left hand turn onto the highway when Sandy came back to the table and spotted the curious display. She started to run towards the door but was caught between the realization it was too late and the curiosity of the exhibit left behind. It would be the center of great conversation for weeks to come at the Diner.
Two items that Albert didn’t leave behind were the school pictures of his kids and a case of beer he had purchased the night before. He sat them neatly arranged on the passenger seat in the same mechanical fashion as he left everything else on the table, equally spaced, and straight rows. The roads were clear and it was actually warm for December but the roomy interior retained a cave like cold and Albert instinctively turned on the heater. He reached up and cranked up the radio to hear ACDC Highway to Hell and punched down on the accelerator. The SUV responded easily, 100, 120, then, 140 kilometers per hour. “Drives like a dream!” he shouted over the music. He reached over and grabbed a beer taking both hands off the wheel to twist the cap. Albert guzzled the drink and pressed down a little more with his right foot, throwing the empty bottle behind him. “Think I’ll have me another,” he said in his best Jimmy Durante voice popping the cap off a fresh bottle and pressing it to his lips. He sipped a bit slower this time but was still finished before Angus Young gargled his signature “yeaahh” at the end of the song. As the Hummer cruised along a loud rumble reverberated against the dashboard. The quick consumption of alcohol had awoken his senses reminding him of his lack of sleep and food starved body.
Just past the Avery gas plant a CN Rail train with over 120 cars was also speeding along as it crossed over one of the many intersections en route. Engineer Ted Jacobs was behind schedule on his way north due to a grass fire just out of the city. He was trying to make up time and decided to use the air horn in lieu of slowing down through some of the smaller communities. The tracks meandered along the country side crossing over from west to east over the rural roads. At some spots you were so close you felt like you could touch the train from the window or your car. In other places it was hidden behind groves of trees or some far section of farm field. The tracks crossed over the same road Albert was now racing down, just as it came into the small township where he grew up.
Grabbing another beer he took his hands away to hold the bottle and twist the cap making the hummer swerve radically. The bottle fell to the floor and began spraying foam over his feet as he grabbed the wheel and brought the Hummer back under control. Still travelling at about 145 kilometers per hour Albert quickly dropped his head and searched the floor with his free hand while Matthew Good was shouting at the world on the radio.
As the mammoth train stretched out into a clearing after several acres of trees, Ted Jacobs noticed a light cloud of dust lifting into the air directly behind a very fast moving vehicle. It wasn’t uncommon for people to race the train over a crossing but Ted didn’t think this guy was racing him. Gut instinct told him this wasn’t going to be pretty and he began an emergency braking procedure to slow his train down but there wasn’t enough time. Albert finally looked up with only 3 seconds between him and the wall of metal in front of him.
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