'MISSED CONNECTION' - by James E.McCarthy
As Carol and I rose to leave the dining room of
the Bread and Breakfast, Ed asked,
'Have you checked on the train connections, Jim?'
Almost simultaneously, he deftly speared another
sausage and a piece of bacon from the serving
platter. With a single motion he transferred some
of each to his mouth, adding a bite of soda bread
with the other hand.
'Yeah,' I replied, and added, 'I have the tickets
for the four of us, Limerick to Killarney, leaving
Limerick Station on the 10:00 o'clock train.'
'But, it's already 9:00,' he said, as he reached
for another piece of soda bread to sop up the
remnants of the egg on his plate.
'Yes,' Carol chimed in, 'You and Ceil better finish
up and check out of here. We're ready. We'll wait
for you in the front hall.'
Ceil answered, 'I just have to close up one
suitcase. As soon as Ed can finish off the rest of
the stuff on the platter we'll be with you.'
'I'll call for a taxi,' I said over my shoulder as
I turned into the hall, trying to convey a sense of
urgency with tone and timing.
'Yes, we better get a move on,' Carol added, as she
picked up one of our bags and fell in behind me.
Ed yelled, 'I'll pay you for our tickets when we
get on the train, Jim.'
'Say, this Irish Rail's not too bad,' Ed said as
he settled into the plush seat beside Ceil.
'I wonder if they have any food on board?' he added,
probably forgetting that in just a few miles, at
Limerick Junction, we would change trains for
Killarney, or we would end up in Cork.
'Limerick Junction. Limerick Junction. Change for
Killarney,' the Conductor shouted from the sliding
door to the entryway.
'Limerick Junction. Change for Killarney.'
I remembered the station agent's advice when I
picked up the tickets.
'You'll be on track 1 at the Junction. Be ready to
cross the platform to track 2 for immediate
departure to Killarney.'
The Conductor slammed the door, proceeding to the
next car. 'Let's get ready,' I urged. Carol and I
started getting our bags down from the overhead
rack. Ed was following suit, but Ceil was intently
gazing out the car window onto the platform side.
The train came to a stop with a little squeal and
a jerk as the three of us readied to move.
'Oh, Carol,' Ceil gushed. 'Look at those darling
children out there.'
Carol responded with a brief glance, but quickly
said, 'Ceil, I can't look. We have to get over to
that other track right now. Hurry!'
'Charge!' Ed roared. With bags hung over his
shoulders and others in his hands, he pushed down
the aisle, through the entry and down to the
platform. Carol and I were right behind him.
'Ed,' I called,' there must be seats in that car
forward.' I had noticed that most passengers were
headed toward the car directly opposite us.
'Right,' he answered, as he half-ran to the next
car. He climbed up to the entry and moved into the
car. We scurried to grab facing seats with a table
in between, hoisted our baggage overhead and dropped
into the seats with the hope that our heart rates
would soon subside and stabilize.
Then, the thought hit us all.
'Where's Ceil?' Ed shouted, looking frantically
around the car. Just then the train started a
smooth, silent movement out of the station. Our
three pair of eyes darted about in search of Ceil.
We found her, still on the platform, gazing
placidly at the departing train.
'There she is,' Ed yelled, loud enough and urgently
enough to make us the center of attention in most
of the car.
'Where's the Conductor?' he continued. 'Stop the
train,' he ordered loudly to the world at large as
if sufficient volume would have that affect.
On cue, it seemed, the Conductor banged through the
entry door. His long Irish countenance expressing
concern for the little ruckus being created on his
train.
'My wife missed the train,' Ed explained. 'She's
still on the platform. Stop the train.'
'We can't do that,' the conductor said. 'We're not
alone on this track.' A suspicion of a little grin
quivered at the corners of his mouth as he
continued, 'But not to worry, my good man. We'll
take care of her.'
She doesn't have her ticket, her passport or even
any money with her,' Ed informed the Conductor,
with rising inflection. 'She doesn't have anything
with her!' he emphasized.
'No matter. No matter,' the Conductor soothed.
'I'll telegraph back to the Station Master from
the next stop. He'll see that your wife gets on
the next train, in about 3 hours. She'll be taken
care of, no need to worry. You can get off at the
next station, yourself, and wait for her to come
through.'
With a few more comforting murmurs, he moved on to
take care of his train.
'Ed,' I said, but without the conductor's liquid
brogue, 'She'll be OK. You get off at the next
stop. Carol and I will go on to Killarney, locate
a Bed and Breakfast and meet you at the station
when you come in.'
'I wonder if there'll be someplace to eat where I
get off,' Ed wondered. 'Lunch time is coming up.'
I assured him that there is at least one Pub in
every Irish town and hamlet of more than half a
dozen people. With that, Ed appeared comforted and
settled down, prepared to meet the task at hand,
after a Pub lunch in the next town.
Meanwhile, back at Limerick Junction, Ceil had
reported her predicament to the Station Master.
He offered the same solution as the Conductor.
'Sure, I'm sorry for your inconvenience, Ma'am,'
he said,' but please make yourself comfortable
here in the station. I'll see you get on the next
train to Killarney.'
An older Irish woman approached Ceil hesitantly.
With a big open smile she said,
'Madam, I couldn't help but overhear. I'm waiting
myself, so I wonder if you'd care to sit with me
and share my lunch. I have more than enough for
both of us. We could take ourselves outside to one
of those benches in the sun.'
~~~
So, there you have it, two different exposures to
the Irish culture; two lunches with pleasant
conversation, one on a railroad station bench in
the warm sun, the other in the cool shadows of a
friendly Pub.
A missed connection resulted in two new
relationships with the world we were there to meet,
revealing more of the Irish psyche than days of
casual sightseeing.
This day's worry became the highlight of the week.
James E. McCarthy
Email: JMoasis52@aol.com
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