Pullman Car

      More Letters From Paradise
            Pullman car
It was just one of those things that sometimes happens, my mind turned to thoughts of Mexico, and along with it came the memory of an event. And, this event took place so many years ago.

I was traveling by train from a town in southern Mexico, up to Mexico City. And as many tales of that country include a woman, so does this this one.  I was not traveling alone, my companion was a woman. To include a description of her, to and tell how and why we were traveling to Mexico City, would not help you to better understand the event that happened.

Our journey was made comfortable, as we had accommodations in a Pullman car. This was far better than being forced to sleep in seats through the long night. Years ago when people traveled long distances by train, they would, if they could afford it, purchase tickets for a Pullman sleeping car. When the age of air travel arrived, the Pullman cars disappeared. Some were sold to Mexican railroads, like the one that we were riding. Seats in a Pullman car would be converted into beds for the night.

As the day came to an end, my companion and I decided to take a large bottle of white wine and two glasses to the rear of the train, and watch the sunset, while enjoying our wine.

We sipped the crisp-tasting wine, as the railroad ties slid noisily under our feet.
The sunset was swallowed up by the night, and we felt that though there was still some wine left in the bottle, it was time for bed.  I grasped the door handle, tried to turn the knob, and there was no movement, the door was locked. And, to the woman's credit, she did not panic. It looked like were stuck for the night on the platform of the last car on the train.

 By now most all of the passengers in the car were sleeping. There is a particular sound that a train makes, a sort of hypnotizing clickety-clack as the train moves along the track. The sound  of the train and the gentile  swaying of the cars makes it a perfect time for sleeping.

So the problem now was how to alert someone to come to our aid, and open the door. I quickly discard the idea of climbing up onto the top of the car, and then climb down, and open the door. It is often done in movies, but it would not be done by me.      

So I made our escape plan. The train made its usual noises, and what I needed to do was to make some noise that was not a train sound. So I took the wine bottle and began to tap loudly on the window of the door.  I tapped again and again, "Dum diddly dum dum, dum dump."

My efforts were not wasted, as a short stocky built man appeared in his pajamas and undershirt. We were saved.  I kept my foot in the door just in case. As a reward for his kind gesture, we awarded him the last of the wine, and gave him the honor of throwing the empty bottle down the tracks. Then we all retired to our beds.

The following morning at breakfast, there were whispers from behind many a menu, as the story was told about the gringo and his woman being locked out on the rear of the train.

If you ever have the chance to share a glass with a companion on the rear of a train, make sure first that the door opens from the outside.
            Adios
            Grant