William Brown - The Undertaker

I couldn't say anything, because somehow, in two days, this elf had me nailed.

I bet I've gotten closer to you than anyone, but you've made Terri an impossible act for me or any woman to follow.” Even with my hand over her eyes, I could feel tears in the palm of my hand.

“Oh, don't do that,” I groaned, feeling even worse as I wiped away the big crocodile tears running down her cheeks. “That's not fair.”

“I'm not going to apologize this time. I can't help it,” she sputtered. “I told you I was a sap for stuff like this. Well, the fact is, Peter Talbott, you can't talk to me because you are afraid of what it might mean if you let me get close. And you are right. All I do is crack jokes, try to get you in he sack, and cry, because I'm just as terrified of you.”

“Why would you be terrified of me?”

“Are you kidding? That kind of love? That kind of loyalty? I know you think I'm a silly little girl who doesn't come close to measuring up to what you need or what you had. And I know we don't know each other very well, but I know everything I will ever need to know about you. I knew it that back in Chicago at my aunt's, maybe before that. So at least give me a chance. Guys like you come along maybe once in a million years and I'm petrified that I'm going to blow this thing with you.”

Where Glenn Frey meets the lower bunk…

The Amtrak train came twenty minutes late. Our car was the near the rear and we walked quickly to the gate and got on board. An elderly black porter met us in the passageway; his nametag

read “Phillip.” He opened the door of our compartment with a big smile as he handed me two keys, telling me the restaurant car opened at 6:00 AM.

“Thank you, Phillip.” I steered him aside. “My wife and I are on our honeymoon and we are absolutely exhausted,” I whispered quietly to him. “In the morning, maybe you can bring us some food from the dining car.”

“It would be my great pleasure, sir,” he smiled. “There's a menu on the table inside. If you check off what you want and slide it out under the door, I'll take care of everything.”

“Thanks. But, I have another problem, too. My wife's brother's with the FBI and he's a real joker. He and a couple of our other friends love to pull pranks.” I handed him a folded one-hundred dollar bill. “That's so you won't tell anyone that you saw us, or saw anybody that looks like us. Now, he's clever. He'll probably flash a badge and growl and bluster, and tell you we're wanted for something, but you never saw us, okay? Because I have another hundred in my pocket if we make it to Boston undisturbed.”

“Yes, sir!” Phillip said as he reached up and switched the placard on the door from Occupied to Vacant. “And don't you worry, Mister… Smith. I shall see to it personally that no one bothers you or your wife. Now, ya'll have a good night.”

I stepped inside and locked the door behind me.

“That was really sneaky, Talbott,” Sandy said. She was no more than two feet away from me, which was about as far apart as we were likely to get for quite a while.

I looked around. “My bedroom closet in California was bigger than this.” The entire compartment was only 6’ 6” by 7’ 6”, with a couch along one wall and a pull-down bunk above it. Both had been made up for the night. There was also a small armchair and a fold-down table with a big window above it. There was a smaller window by the upper bunk and a tiny restroom by the door that contained a toilet, a sink, and a shower.

“All the comforts of home,” Sandy said as she pulled down the shades.

No, I thought, all the comforts of a closet. And I'm about to spend the entire night in here with you, just the two of us, when I was uncomfortable being alone with you in your aunt's much larger apartment last night. Thank God for bunk beds.

We sat side-by-side on the lower bunk for the next ten, very awkward minutes, waiting for the train to leave. “I don't know about you,” I said, “but I'm exhausted.”

“I'll flip you for the lower,” she said, patting the bunk.

“No way.” I sprawled out on my back. “I'm too damned tired to climb.”

Finally, the train shuddered and began to move. It slowly gathered speed and pulled out of the station and we began to relax.

“Okay. I'm going to take a shower and wash my hair,” Sandy announced as she stood up in front of me. “But you and I need to get a couple of things straight.” She pulled her new blue top over her head and stood in front of me in her bra, which wasn't much more than a very thin strip of form-fitting, silk. “I usually sleep in the nude, but I promised you I'd behave. I'm not going to sleep in my new clothes either, so that only leaves the bra and panties, okay?” She looked down at me, waiting for me to say something, but I couldn't. “Besides, by the time you and I reach Boston tomorrow night, there won't be much we haven't seen or bumped into, no matter what we wear or don't wear.”

“I guess you're right,” I said.

“Good, because I don't want to upset you again.”

“You aren't upsetting me.”

“No? Well that's good to hear.” She was watching my eyes as she let the skirt-shorts drop to the floor and she stood there in her panties. There wasn't very much to them either, and a thin smile crossed her lips as she knew I was lying.

“I assume you'll keep your shorts on,” she added. “I don't think I could stand the excitement.” With that, she turned, went into the shower, and closed the door. I stripped down to my shorts and turned out the light. I reached down to the end of the bed and raised the window shade half-way up so I could see outside. There was a thin, quarter-moon in the sky, and thin clouds racing by. I slipped under the sheet and soon heard the water running.

Twenty minutes later, the shower door opened and Sandy walked past me. There were three foot holds on the end wall. She scampered into the upper bunk without saying a word. I didn't either, but neither could I fall asleep. I lay on my back with my eyes closed. Every few minutes, she would flip noisily from one side to the other, fluff the pillow, pull the blanket up, then push it down, and then flip back over again. This went on for another twenty minutes.

“Pe-ter,” I finally heard a little-girl voice call down to me. I opened my eyes and saw her face looking over the side of the bunk at me. “Can I come down there? Just to sleep. Please? I really, really promise I'll behave, but I hate it up here and I don't want to be alone tonight. Just let me be next to you, like in the movie theater, please?”

The bunk was only three feet wide. I never said yes, but as I shifted back against the wall, she was out of her bunk, down in mine, and under the sheet before I could say no.

She pressed her bare back up against me and pulled my arm over her. “Thank you,” she said. “Good night.” She yawned and the next thing I heard were soft, sleep sounds.

I raised my head and looked at her. I couldn't believe it, but she really was asleep. Lying there in the faint moonlight, I thought she was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen — childlike, yet all woman. Me? I was afraid to move. Lying next to each other like that, we had a lot of skin touching and I could feel the firm contours of her body pressed against me. I could feel her soft breathing. I could smell her hair right under my nose, and a hint of perfume. This was the closest I had come to girl smells in a long, long time and I realized how much I missed them. Behaving? God, I really wished she wasn't.

In the hospital, toward the end, Terri and I had talked about this. “ I love you, Peter, but when I'm gone, you've got to move on,” Terri said. “Promise me you'll find someone.”