Death on the Rails

The Coaster #660 stopped too long in Sorrento Valley. The sound of sirens came closer and closer on Pacific Highway. Somebody whispered that the "fire trucks were for us".
   The Encinitas station had been jammed with Padre fans. Six packs, bags of whiskey, were packed away by these fans to watch their beloved Padres go up against Colorado Rockies. It was a night game. Al most all were younger than thirty. They paid too much for their box seats or lodges but it was worth it. Their team had strung together many victories. A new Padre Dynasty was in the making. 
   I had just finished a heavy dinner at Big John's, as the locals call the eatery. The Tip Top has kept my engine running ever since I had moved to the San Diego area. From the Carlsbad restaurant, I drove to Costco to have my 1940-50 super 8 films converted into a DVD. I could still taste the delicious Idaho as I parked my car in the Encinitas Commuter parking lot. 
   There wasn't a seat to be had. I was stuck with a gal who kept on jabbering to one who pretended to listen. I was focused on my book. About one hundred boarded the #660 going south to San Diego. Their weariness contrasted with the excitement of the fans wishing to inhale another Padre victory. After five minutes, the conductor came on the intercom. 
   "We have had an emergency on board the train. Please stay in your seats. I will notify you when we will continue."  I felt glad to have brought a book aboard. Surely the stop wouldn't be long. It happened to me a year ago and it took a coroner about an hour to arrive and another three to complete his autopsy. 
   Twenty minutes passed. Jubilation changed to anarchy. The young folks began to jostle each other. Hell, some spent over a hundred smackers for a pair of box seats. The guy in back of me told me he would propose to his girl friend. Now everything was on hold, including cupid. The conductor came back on again. 
   "We are sorry for the inconvenience. Will all passengers exit to track two....Again, will all passengers leave to track two."
   I got up and left the train. Everyone else just sat until it dawned on them. The discontented crowded the second track. It was now 6 o'clock. My heart began to pound. Would I be another body to be examined by the coroner?
   Just then I saw up ahead another train. It was moving. It was moving north. What the hell. And guess who the conductor was? It was engineer "Smarty Pants". I had met him on the tracks three years ago. He is always happy and running here and there to put out fires. He has a joke for everything. You might say were our good friends. He works hard to send his two boys to a charter school. He is one of many who don't believe in San Diego public schools. 
   I made my decision. I jumped aboard the #661 our of San Diego. I knew the Amtrak # 784 would leave Encinitas at about seven twenty. And Besides, my car was parked there with some large mangoes bought at the Grand Market, in back of Tip Top. Of course I made a few jokes. Nobody had paid attention to the train that stopped dead on track one 
  At six thirty I enjoyed a Mango and took up a seat at the local pizza store. A few teenage gals showed off their latest tattoos and high healed shoes. A few skateboarders said hello to me while a homeless one tasted an empty can from the trash.  
   I got on board the #661 going south to the Santa Fe Station. I made it! Only a few cocaine addict kids were on board. I read my book about the Duchess of York. Somehow I felt like a Duke riding my Amtrak to the downtown area. 
   I turned on the T.V. to see how the Padres were doing. They were ahead 4 to 0 in the ninth inning. Of course my ball game had already been won long ago, ever since I have walked in HIS shoes.