When you Die in Your Dreams (excerpt 2)

(excerpt 2. If you missed the previous installment, scroll down the blog to catch up)

Being penniless and destitute I had no means with which to travel, so in the obscure darkness of early morning I snuck into the Raleigh Railway yard and climbed into an empty boxcar of a train that was being readied for departure.

As the locomotive rolled down the tracks heading west I felt free in a way I never had. I had no idea where I was going, but that didn't matter; I had no cares, no deadlines, and no responsibilities. As the train chugged up the eastern slope of the Blue Ridge Mountains I saw deer and foxes and bears roaming the woods and an eagle soaring over a towering waterfall which seemed to reach to the sky. As the water cascaded down the steep rock face it reflected the warm orange glow of the rising sun. Suddenly the western slope of the mountains dissipated into an amalgam of all the places I had ever read about or imagined. On the way to the Mighty Mississippi, we passed cotton fields and plantations and small towns. We crossed over that Old Man River, which was so wide I couldn't see the other side. From the trestle high above the muddy waters I saw paddle-wheel riverboats disappearing into the distance in both directions. Below the bridge a young boy on a makeshift raft held down his straw hat with one hand and waved at me with the other. Finally, after what seemed like hours we made it to the other side and the landscape changed to an arid desert.

The train chugged past a band of cowboys riding as fast as they could, obviously on the trail of something or someone. A little ways up ahead we passed three Indians, desperately coaxing their horses to evade their pursuers. The chase scene faded from view and slowly but distinctly out of the desert rose a series of towers, each capped by a dome with the large one in the middle significantly bigger than the rest. As we got closer I recognized it as the Taj Mahal. Gaunt, brown-skinned people wearing strange robes and red dots on their foreheads waved at me as they strolled the grounds. The awe-inspiring monument became distorted and wavy and then faded away, and we rolled through vast grasslands dotted with the distinctive umbrella trees of Africa. A bunch of antelope ran alongside the train, violently beating their hooves into the turf, kicking up a cloud of dust and blades of grass which trailed behind them like the column of smoke behind our train. As the herd peeled off from our course at an angle I saw a single antelope, thinner than the rest, struggling to keep up but falling behind. My gaze was so fixed on this lonely creature that I did not see his pursuer until it was upon him. Dust and grass, fur and blood flew around the blurred, twisted unidentifiable tangle of creatures as they rolled to a stop. When the dust cleared I saw a lean, muscular lion lying on all fours, his terrible fangs planted firmly in the antelope's hind quarters. Blood dripped from his incisors as he held his prey. The antelope struggled for a moment and then breathed his final, labored breath and went limp. The lion stared menacingly at me as we rolled past.

The landscape changed into a vast expanse of gray dust and everything was dark, like on a moonlit night. We slipped past a collection of glass domes, the size of small cities, and a spaceship that roared to life as its thrusters spewed out flames and smoke, propelling the craft off the surface of the moon. In the distance I could see a large blue planet, and past that two smaller planets, and beyond those the sun, shining with a radiance I'd never seen. The International Space Station glimmered like a diamond as it hung in orbit above the Earth.

Distracted by the unfettered celestial view I didn't notice that the moonscape had transformed into a more familiar scene: the round hotel tower with a revolving restaurant on top and the bridges over the Ohio River and the distinctive skyline of the Queen City. The sun was rising over downtown as we rolled in to the Cincinnati Railway yard and slowed to a stop. I jumped off the freight car and raced through the streets to the home of my youth. Mom and Dad were waiting on the front porch to greet me.