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Authors: Jane Goodger
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bothering to see if she was following. Genny took a step to follow, but stopped and gave the bag’s contents a quick look to be sure he’d included her father’s hat. Her pants and shirt were gone, but the hat was on top, a bit squished but otherwise fine. For some reason, seeing that grungy old hat made her eyes prick with tears and she wasn’t sure it was due to seeing her father’s hat or because Mitch had been thoughtful enough to include it even though it was unlikely she’d ever wear it again.
“You coming or what?” Mitch called from the door.
Genny closed the bag and hurried toward him, her head pounding with every step. Oh, God, she was going to vomit again for sure before the morning was out.
The Sacramento train station was a bustling place filled with men, women, and children standing on a platform still fresh-looking and new. It had been years since Genny had seen so many people in one place. An older woman caught Genny’s eye and smiled. She was wearing a bonnet tied so tightly beneath her chin, Genny wondered if the woman thought they’d be riding in an open car with the wind whipping around her.
“Where are you heading, dear?” the woman asked.
“New York and then on to England,” Genny said.
“Oh, yes, I hear the accent. We’re heading to Omaha to see family. My sister and her husband and children live there and we haven’t seen them in ten years. When we first came out here, it took us more than a month. Can you imagine? And here we’ll be there in three days. It’s a wonder, is it not?”
“Yes, it is,” Genny said. She had few memories of her trip west other than it had seemed like forever from the time they left New York to the time she and her father settled in Yosemite Valley. Her father, mourning the loss of her mother, had been silent for long stretches, letting Genny talk enough for the two of them.
“I’m Mrs. Walsh and that’s my husband, Herbert.” Mrs. Walsh pointed to a man wearing brown from head to toe.
The train let out a hiss of steam so loud, Genny nearly jumped out of her new shoes. Her head still felt like it might explode at any second, and the noise of the train and the people around her wasn’t helping. She felt clammy and out of sorts, and waves of nausea nearly sent her running to the nearest privy. Mitch had disappeared, telling her to stay on the platform; she had no idea where he’d gone and she had the sudden and horrible thought that maybe he’d abandoned her. Maybe that had been his plan all along, to make sure she was safe and on a train headed east.
“Are you traveling alone, dear? If you are, you can join us for some company.”
“Thank you, but my wife and I will be just fine. Perhaps we’ll see you at one of the stops.”
So, they were married again. And apparently she was married to a man who didn’t want company. The train let out another belch of steam and the bell on the engine started pealing loudly, seemingly meant to torture Genny even more.
“All aboard.” Right in Genny’s ear. She was beginning to wonder if the whole world knew she was sick from drink and was trying to teach her a lesson. The conductor moved down the platform, yelling out again, as if he were trying to let someone in New York City know it was time to board the Sacramento train.
“You have the tickets?” Genny asked.
“Right here,” Mitch said, patting his chest.
They stepped up into the car, Genny first, struggling to take the first big step with her long skirts and her right leg still a bit awkward in its half cast. It seemed no matter how she tried, she stepped onto her hem. Finally, with a huff of impatience, she grabbed a handful of skirt in her left hand and a handle with her right and heaved herself up the steps. She was smoothing down her skirts when Mitch, still standing on the platform, spoke.
“Genny, you should have waited for me to hand you up,” he said, as if imparting important and grave information. “And next time, try
“You coming or what?” Mitch called from the door.
Genny closed the bag and hurried toward him, her head pounding with every step. Oh, God, she was going to vomit again for sure before the morning was out.
The Sacramento train station was a bustling place filled with men, women, and children standing on a platform still fresh-looking and new. It had been years since Genny had seen so many people in one place. An older woman caught Genny’s eye and smiled. She was wearing a bonnet tied so tightly beneath her chin, Genny wondered if the woman thought they’d be riding in an open car with the wind whipping around her.
“Where are you heading, dear?” the woman asked.
“New York and then on to England,” Genny said.
“Oh, yes, I hear the accent. We’re heading to Omaha to see family. My sister and her husband and children live there and we haven’t seen them in ten years. When we first came out here, it took us more than a month. Can you imagine? And here we’ll be there in three days. It’s a wonder, is it not?”
“Yes, it is,” Genny said. She had few memories of her trip west other than it had seemed like forever from the time they left New York to the time she and her father settled in Yosemite Valley. Her father, mourning the loss of her mother, had been silent for long stretches, letting Genny talk enough for the two of them.
“I’m Mrs. Walsh and that’s my husband, Herbert.” Mrs. Walsh pointed to a man wearing brown from head to toe.
The train let out a hiss of steam so loud, Genny nearly jumped out of her new shoes. Her head still felt like it might explode at any second, and the noise of the train and the people around her wasn’t helping. She felt clammy and out of sorts, and waves of nausea nearly sent her running to the nearest privy. Mitch had disappeared, telling her to stay on the platform; she had no idea where he’d gone and she had the sudden and horrible thought that maybe he’d abandoned her. Maybe that had been his plan all along, to make sure she was safe and on a train headed east.
“Are you traveling alone, dear? If you are, you can join us for some company.”
“Thank you, but my wife and I will be just fine. Perhaps we’ll see you at one of the stops.”
So, they were married again. And apparently she was married to a man who didn’t want company. The train let out another belch of steam and the bell on the engine started pealing loudly, seemingly meant to torture Genny even more.
“All aboard.” Right in Genny’s ear. She was beginning to wonder if the whole world knew she was sick from drink and was trying to teach her a lesson. The conductor moved down the platform, yelling out again, as if he were trying to let someone in New York City know it was time to board the Sacramento train.
“You have the tickets?” Genny asked.
“Right here,” Mitch said, patting his chest.
They stepped up into the car, Genny first, struggling to take the first big step with her long skirts and her right leg still a bit awkward in its half cast. It seemed no matter how she tried, she stepped onto her hem. Finally, with a huff of impatience, she grabbed a handful of skirt in her left hand and a handle with her right and heaved herself up the steps. She was smoothing down her skirts when Mitch, still standing on the platform, spoke.
“Genny, you should have waited for me to hand you up,” he said, as if imparting important and grave information. “And next time, try
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