Now Departing

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Instead, be kind and tender-hearted to one another, and forgive one another, as God has forgiven you through Christ. – Ephesians 4:32

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PAIGE LET HER ARMS swing as she walked along the boardwalk, shoes in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. The rays of sun warmed her bare arms, and she noticed she had a hint of a tan developing. She swore she could feel her veins thawing out. After the last three weeks spent freezing in New York’s January snow, she was more than grateful to spend today on the beach in Florida. Squinting against the bright afternoon light, she raised her hand to push her long dark hair out of her eyes. Paige looked around her, and seeing the full beach, figured there were a lot of others who shared her sentiments. The boardwalk was almost to the point of being too crowded, a mixture of older couples walking hand in hand and excited children chasing each other, burning off any pent-up energy.

She nodded to a group of seniors walking at a slower pace as she moved around them, returning their greetings. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks, and then gracefully dodged the two young boys that almost ran her off the walk. Deciding the openness of the sandy beach might be a tad safer, she walked down the next set of stairs she came to and grinned to herself as her toes sunk into the warm, soft sand.

Paige enjoyed a moment of complete bliss, but then the breeze shifted, coming from the north. She gave a little shiver, not just from the cold, but from the feeling of discontent which seemed to overtake her as the breeze surrounded her. She had been looking forward to her time on the beach; time alone to spend thinking about the decision she had to make regarding her future. The beach had always been her place of solace. A place to come where decisions could be made almost effortlessly, as if the sounds of the waves breaking against the shore also broke down the resistance her mind would have over her heart. And it was working. She was slowly concluding that in her heart was foregone, but her mind was just having trouble keeping up.

Walking down to the shore where the sand became hard from the waves hitting the beach, Paige walked with ease, dodging the waves as they came up to kiss her toes. She hadn't been gone long from the south and still considered the January water temperatures too cold for even wading. Bending down, she picked up a shell from the sand, the movement reminded her that only a few weeks ago she had been bending over to scoop up snow to make a snowball to throw at her sister and new friends.

Today the ocean didn't offer the solace she was looking for. Once again a cool breeze wrapped itself around her, tugging as if calling her back north. Closing her eyes for a moment Paige let her mind go with the breeze and she envisioned the new home she had been sharing with her sister for the last few months. But she didn't envision the deep snowdrifts and the freezing cold, like she had when she first found out she had to live in New York. This time when she closed her eyes she could see the smiling faces of new friends, and the roaring fire with an old cat curled up in front of it. In her mind she could hear the sounds of construction as the Skipton Station underwent its renovation.

"Heads up!"

The warning shout rang out, and Paige opened her eyes wide, ducking at the last minute as a Frisbee flew by her. Shouting out their apologies, a group of suntanned, grinning teenagers ran after the errant toy. With a wave, she showed them she was fine, and kept walking. She too had enjoyed her days at the beach playing Frisbee, but now she had no desire to join in. Instead she changed the direction she was walking and headed back to the boardwalk. She had just enough time to stop at one more antique store before her dinner meeting.

Walking up the stairs to the boardwalk, she glanced behind her and gave a sigh. The beach would have to wait, just as it had waited for hundreds of years for others before her to return. It would always be there to renew the spirit and wash away troubling thoughts for those who needed it.

Paige continued walking down the boardwalk, not bothering to fetch her rental car; her destination was only a few blocks away. This was the last of her shopping stops for the day and she had the feeling this store would have what she needed. She wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for, but she would recognize it when she saw it. This was the joy of antique hunting; you never knew what you would find. When she reached the store, she hurried inside, thanking the man holding the door for her, and paused, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the lower light.

The shop was everything she remembered it to be, a mixture of antiques and custom-crafted pieces made by the owner. She would commission a few of those pieces to be sent up north, they would be perfect for her project. As she wandered the aisles she looked on shelves, down at the floor where piles of oddities stood, and above her head, where items hung from the ceiling. Turning the corner into a dim little room off in the back corner, she looked around her and grinned openly. Here were her treasures, the perfect pieces she didn't know she needed until she saw them. Hanging from the ceiling were old railroad lanterns, their metal showing the patina of age. Some had colored glass, others had clear glass faded with age, their shapes and sizes varied. The wall to her left held an old, rare platform clock that would tell passengers the time so they could get to their platform before the train pulled out. There were a few railroad crossing signs, along with company signs of railway systems, long gone. Old pick axes and wrenches used on the tracks were displayed on the tables and a set of timber tongs lay leaning against a chest.

The real find, a find that had Paige almost drooling, was a beautiful hand-carved train set, approximately 14" tall, with many rail cars, from the engine to the caboose and everything in between. This was a piece Paige had been looking for over the last few weeks. It was perfect and she could picture it in her mind in a glass display case right outside the station entry on the train platform at Skipton Station. Looking around her with excitement, she was ready to call the proprietor for some help. But there was no need, the man was leaning against the doorway, watching the excitement on her face as she went from one treasure to the other.

"You seem to know what you're looking for," puffing on his pipe, he stated the obvious.

"And I bet you know the history behind most of these pieces. How long did you work on the railroad?"

The man chuckled, please she had deciphered he was an old railroad hand. He looked at her closely before he answered, innately understanding what he had to say would interest her.

"Well I lied to work on the railroad, lied about my age that is. So, I guess I was around 15 or 16 when I first started. But it was in my blood, my grandfather and father were both rail workers. You looking for anything in particular?"

"Most of what I see here will fill my needs. You have wonderful stuff. And I'd like to talk to you about some of your wood work."

"Well I'm glad I can help. If you don't mind my asking, what in the world are you going to do with all this railroad stuff? It doesn't seem like the type of antiques you would be looking for."

Paige smiled at the man's honesty, and agreed with him this would not have been the type of antique she normally would've been looking for. Picking up a piece of the train set, she ran her fingers over the smooth wood as she took a deep breath to tell the man what had set her on her search.

"Like you, my family has been in the railroad business for generations. There's a former railroad town up north the bears our family name. My family worked the rails and ran the station that was the center of the town's livelihood for years. My sister and I have recently inherited the old train station and we are working hard to renovate it to and make it an intrical part of the town once more. It sounds crazy, but we have a few rail cars that we’re revamping, and we’re rebuilding the train platform to have a more modern purpose."

Paige held her breath, wondering if the man would burst out laughing at the idea of two young women taking over and revamping an old train station. Instead of laughing the older man just puffed on his pipe a little harder and nodded his head slowly. Paige felt good seeing the approval in his eyes.

"Now that sounds not only ambitious, but worthwhile. I'm glad to see young folks like you trying to preserve a bit of history. And it sounds like you're honoring your family's history, as well. I'll be happy to help in any way I can. I have sources for other items, and when they become available I can contact you. Why don’t we head over to my office, and we'll talk about the wood work you want commissioned? You can tell me some more details about your project."

As they walked towards the front counter, the man introduced himself as Walter Brooks, and asked a few more questions. Paige was comfortable telling him some of the details and even some ideas she had that she hadn't even discussed with anybody else yet. Mr. Brooks was a good listener, and he even offered a few suggestions which would make her project seem a little more realistic. As they talked, Paige looked over his inventory book and picked out some beautiful benches she wanted to place along the platform to give it a look of an old rail station. Once they had finished the business end of things, Mr. Brooks shook her hand and wished her luck, promising to keep in touch with her, even hinting when the weather warmed up he might come up and see firsthand what Skipton Station was becoming.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Brooks. I can't thank you enough for all your help. Be sure to let me know if you find anything else, now that you know what I'm looking for.” Paige glanced at her watch, startled. “Oh my gosh, is that the time? I've got to run; I’m supposed to be meeting somebody. Let's keep in touch."

Waving goodbye with a satisfied smile, Paige hurried out the door, anxious not to be late.