“I never meant that you weren’t,” Robert said. “But it’s become all too clear to me that my time on this earth is quite short. I must spend it very wisely, which means being with my wife and my daughter.”
“And what of me?” Mary asked.
Robert’s heart sank. “I’m afraid I have failed you,” he said. “I-I wish I could save you from your anguish— to say or do something that would make things better for you. But I am not divine, I’m of mortal flesh and blood.”
Mary’s eyes were watering. “What do you mean to say?” she asked.
“I love you, Mother,” he said, “but you must strike out on your own. You must live your own life, for I cannot do it for you— as I must also live mine.”
FINALLY, THAT SUNDAY, THE CALDWELLS AND THE LINCOLNS WENT TO THE STATION TOGETHER.
Union Depot’s ruins had been carted away, and temporary walls were now standing. Construction equipment littered the area as the work crews hurried to rebuild the station. The weather was bitterly cold, so very few people were milling around the platform. Tommy was bundled in the thickest little coat Simon could find, and Simon now gripped his hand as they walked alongside the train. Elijah and the Lincolns followed closely behind.
Simon thought back to his first glimpses of the city, and he remembered how excited he’d been at the time. Now the landscape had changed so dramatically that Simon could hardly believe he was standing in the same spot.
He let off a sigh and took in the sights and sounds around him. Steam hissed from the locomotive as the passengers boarded. Immigrant families trudged along the platform, carrying all their earthly possessions on their backs. A nouveau-riche family marched with an entourage trailing behind. Simon wondered where all the passengers were going; he assumed they were looking for better lives somewhere. He found himself staring into the bystanders’ faces as they prepared for their journeys ahead. Simon could only hope they would find what they wanted in life.
“Simon,” Elijah said, “the time has now come.”
Simon’s heart sank as he found himself torn. For whatever reason, he found this parting much harder than his original departure from Rhinebeck. He looked at Tommy, who was playing with his toy horse. Simon mused that while he hadn’t always shown it, Tommy had come to mean more to him than he’d ever imagined.
Elijah held out his hand to his grandson. “Come now, child,” he said.
Simon shook his head. “No,” he said, “Tommy’s staying with me.”
“Pardon me?”
An awkward silence hung in the air. “I’m keeping him here,” Simon finally said.
His father straightened up. “You cannot be serious,” Elijah said. “Tommy cannot stay. He deserves to be with his father, and with us—”
“His father neglected him,” Simon shot back, “and he ran away when he could no longer handle the pressure. That was every bit as disgraceful and as dangerous as what Billy did. But I, meanwhile, have been under more pressure than J.J. could have ever imagined. Yet I pledge to stand by my nephew and to never allow Tommy to be disappointed again.”
For a moment no one moved. “You always did yearn for adventure,” Elijah said, “but this is no silly quest—”
“I do not pretend that it is,” Simon snapped. “But I do concede you were right after all— about a great many things.”
Elijah frowned. He didn’t know what Simon meant.
“You said I’d understand when I was older,” Simon continued, “and I certainly understand now.” He held out his hand. “Goodbye Father.”
At first, Elijah didn’t react. Then he pursed his lips and finally shook Simon’s hand. Simon put his free arm around his father, and he patted Elijah on the back.
“Thank you for being here,” Simon told him. “I know not what I should have done without you.”
Elijah leaned back and gave his son a quizzical look. “My son,” he said, “I do wish you would reconsider. If you would come along—”
“Father, I told you I can’t,” he replied. “My life and future are here. Rhinebeck is your world, your home— but it no longer is mine.”
“But think of your old friends,” Elijah said. “Would you not be happy to see them?”
“Most of my friends departed Rhinebeck long ago, and the ones who remain are the ones who cannot relate to me now. They cannot possibly comprehend what I’ve seen— and I hope they never do.” Simon shook his head. “All that aside, I’ve got things to do here. My muckraking has only now begun: I’ve finally cleared the title to my land, and the grand jury just indicted thirteen city officials for their role in these frauds. I have got to see this through— and I pray you understand.”
Elijah cleared his throat. “I see you are now my prodigal son,” he replied. “But even the prodigal son shall return in the end.”
“Do not be so certain,” Simon shot back. “I never was like J.J., and I never was like Gregory. I must live a life of my own.” He paused for a moment, then looked into his eyes. “I love you father, but I—”
“But what?” Elijah snapped.
Simon took a deep breath. “I pledge to visit you soon.”
Elijah cringed at the word visit but didn’t say anything further. He just gave his son a last embrace and stepped onto the train.
“Godspeed my father,” were Simon’s parting words, “and God bless you as well.”
Elijah tipped his hat and made his way to his seat. Simon turned and saw Robert stepping onto the train in the distance; for a moment, the two men exchanged a silent wave.
In Simon’s mind, the extraneous sights and sounds melted away. The train moved imperceptibly at first, then started to gain momentum. The platform shuddered as the cars jerked and jolted along the rails. Simon looked back at his father, and his heart sank as Elijah’s face began to recede. Simon craned his neck for a moment, but then a reflection moved across the window, and his father’s figure disappeared. The locomotive barreled past the station walls, across the maze of converging rails, and continued onto the trestle. Winds buffeted the train, and snowflakes swirled in all directions.
Simon now stood motionless at the edge of the platform. He thought of all he’d been through, and all that still lay ahead. He knew that his journey would never be easy, but at that point he didn’t care. As he gathered himself, the sound of the engine receded, and the shudder underfoot disappeared. Then, at long last, the train vanished into the haze.
THE END
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