All Aboard Andi's Dream

©

2024 Duleigh Lawrence-Townshend. All rights reserved. The author asserts the right to be identified as the author of this story for all portions. All characters are original. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. This story or any part thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review or commentary.

All Aboard Andi's Dream

Chapter 17

Without a Trace

Not long after Frank Rosetti was forced to plead guilty to multiple charges of assault and attempted vehicular homicide, he met Junior. He was locked up in Wende Correctional Facility in Alden, NY and was slowly getting used to life in prison. Then he was beaten severely. Word had spread around Wende correctional facility that Frank was a "Rock Spider," a child molester and he was nearly beaten to death, so he was transferred from Wende Correctional Facility to Upstate.

Upstate is New York's notorious Supermax and Frank was put in solitary to save his life because the prison population found out that Frank whored his wife out to Russian mobsters. They disapproved of that almost as much as the rumors of child molesting. He received one letter in his first month there. It was written in elegant cursive script and it simply said, "

I warned you to take me seriously

." It was merely signed, "

The Judge

."

The weather was freezing in the Upstate Correctional Facility the day that Frank Rosetti was transferred there, a cold, wet sloppy snow fell and he never got the chill out of his bones. Located in the northernmost point of New York State, Upstate is where they sent their worst convicts to while away their wasted lives, forgotten by polite society.

On Frank's daily hour of exercise outside, he walked in slow circles around the perimeter of the barren private exercise yard. As he neared the end of his hour, Frank heard a voice call, "Jarecki!" Frank turned by instinct, and there at the end of the yard on the outside of the fence was a young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, with reddish blond hair looking at him through the chain-link fence. When he saw Frank turn toward him, the kid grinned.

"You got the wrong person, you want somebody else, pal," said Frank and with that, Frank turned and walked into the main prison building.

The next day, Frank was notified by a guard, "You have a visitor, Rosetti."

"Is it my lawyer?"

"I don't fucking know; do I look like an answering machine?"

"Tell them I'm busy," said Frank. He was trying to educate himself on prison law so he could mount a good defense and get himself out of prison.

"He said it was about your friend Paul."

"Fuck, who is this guy," said Frank as he pushed himself away from his desk and got up and held his wrists through the opening in his cell door and the guard put handcuffs on him before opening the door and putting on the ankle cuffs.

"Hell, I don't know who he is." The guard held up a clipboard and Frank saw the name. It looked like a stupid name.

"A junior? He's probably stupid," said Frank. "I don't know him either way."

The guard led Frank to the visitation center and through a door where he sat in front of a thick plexiglass window. That kid was waiting for him on the other side of the window. He was in his late 20s with reddish blond hair and his face was covered in freckles. Frank immediately thought that if he were in here, he'd have those freckles fucked off by now. "What?" demanded Frank. "What do you want?"

"I want to visit with your cousin, Paul. He owes me a lot and I am going to recoup some of that."

Frank looked at the kid and said, "Listen, Junior, I hate Paul, but he's not stupid. He's not going to fall for anything, and as for money, he knows how to make it. He gives it away freely but not to the likes of you."

"I hate being called Junior."

"Then we're done here."

Frank started to get up, but the kid said, "Ok, it's not important what you call me, I just need to know more about your cousin."

"Why? What's in it for me?"

"Satisfaction," said Junior. "You'll be happy to know that your dear cousin is in the best of hands and his financial matters will be handled by me and my team. We have an eighteen twelve oh one investment plan that's sure to bring in the money for us."

Frank glared at Junior. He knew exactly what eighteen twelve oh one was. Was this kid that stupid? "What do you want?"

"Paul and I have grown apart. I'd like to, you know, reunite, get close, and with his capital, we can successfully execute this plan."

"And what happens if this investment plan falls apart?"

Junior looked at Frank and grinned, "Paul will assume all responsibility."

A plan was forming in Frank's mind. "What do you want?"

"I wrote you a letter. Just answer it. Tell me the story of you and Paul. That's it. I'll reach out to Paul, and we'll have a long talk and get this plan rolling."

"Guard!" shouted Frank. Junior didn't even look nervous. Was he that stupid? But as the guard came to collect Frank, the convict rose and said, "Keep an eye on your mailbox."

"Thank you, Mister Rosetti."

Frank shuffled after the guard, slowed down by his leg cuffs. As they got to his cell, Frank stopped with his back to the cell door and the guard removed the ankle cuffs. "Step back into your cell." Frank stepped back, and they closed the door. He stuck his hands through the opening and the guard removed his handcuffs. "So, who was that guy?"

"Some investment banker. He heard my cousin had money, and he wants to make a few bucks off my cousin, so he asked me to send him some information to get the ball rolling."

"You going to do it?"

"Fucker never sent me any Christmas Cards, so yeah."

After the guard had left, Paul opened up a law book that needed to be returned to the library, and he found Junior's "Investment Plan" right away, 18 US Code 1201. Kidnapping. The fucker wants to kidnap Paul and take Andi for every dime to get him back. Was the kid ballsy or stupid? The next day, he requested a nexus search on Junior's father's name, and when the results came back, he grinned. The kid was clearly blinded by hate - therefore stupid. Frank would still be free and knocking up cocktail waitresses if he hadn't had his head jammed up his own ass with hate for "his cousin" and he realized it.

Later that day, a letter came from Junior asking for information about Frank's "cousin," stuff like financial assets, estimated worth, employment, and personal value. Frank grinned and considered the question, what would happen to dear cousin Paul if Junior's "Investment Scheme" was discovered and somebody named names after the kickoff? He probably doesn't have a chance in hell of surviving Junior's "Investment Plan."

He replied to Junior with all the information he wanted and more. His fictionalized bio of his "cousin" made Paul look like the richest man in upstate New York. He covered Jarecki motors, but then he invented assets. Paul would be surprised to learn that he was a major stakeholder in Bell Aerospace in Niagara Falls and Bethlehem Steel in Lackawanna. He was sure it would make Junior eager to start the plan.

Frank spent Christmas alone in his cell, waiting for news of Junior's investment plan. The hints he got from Junior made Frank think that the Eighteen Twelve Oh One investment plan would kick off before the new year. It wouldn't be long...

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Boxing day, the day after Christmas, is not celebrated in New York City. After saying goodbye to their friends at Paul and Andi's house after Paul's incredible Christmas Wigilia, Gus and Lucy returned home to make sweet love under their "Chanukkah bush." They decorated their Christmas tree in blue and silver and put the Star of David at the top.

They rose early on Boxing Day and met Lucy's folks for breakfast. After saying their goodbyes, they got her folks on a plane headed to Denver while Gus and Lucy took a fast flight in the other direction, to New York City. It's a quick jump from Buffalo to NYC. To Lucy, it barely seemed worth the effort to raise the landing gear. "Buffalo is about the same distance from New York as it is between London and Berlin, and back then, it took hours to fly that route."

"I hope we don't run into any enemy fighters," said Lucy as their plane descended.

"We don't have anything to worry about... until after we land," said Gus.

They got their baggage and stepped out of La Guardia airport and there was a classic checker cab waiting for them. The driver, a short fellow with a Long Island accent, loaded their bags in the trunk and said, "Are you ready to see the Big Apple?" and they were off. The driver had a litany of information about the neighborhoods they passed through and generally ended with something like, "Albert Spumante, the Abruzzi family bookkeeper, was shot on that corner."

"Everyone gets shot. Does anyone in Brooklyn die a natural death?" asked Lucy.

"Sudden ventilation syndrome and high velocity lead poisoning are natural causes of death in Brooklyn," laughed the cabbie as they drove through Brooklyn.

"You used to live here? This is nice." Lucy Didomissio was being derisive. She was not impressed with the Brooklyn neighborhood they were riding through. Buildings soared six stories above her head, a canyon of brick and glass that stretched on and on. At the street level, there were crowds of people, hipsters mostly, wandering here and there. They reminded her of non-Player Characters in a video game that just wandered across the landscape without aim, simply window dressing on the larger picture.

Gus and Lucy were on a "Heritage Cab Tour" in a classic Checker Cab, showing Lucy some of the highlights of New York City. He wanted to show his bride his old neighborhood before their hotel suite was ready for them.

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?" asked Gus, trying not to laugh. He was giving his bride a tour of his old neighborhood and he got the reaction he expected from the Denver native.

"What, da little lady ain't impressed wit da land of da twelve-dollar cuppa coffee?" asked the cabbie that was driving the 1958 Checker Cab. "I tried to get a tall mocha latte, but it cost so much I had to turn a few tricks behind the kiosk. Don't ask me what he wanted for a grande with sprinkles."

"I can't believe the people here!" gasped Lucy.

"Don't even try. They're gittin' too fuckin' lazy to sell fake Rolex watches for a living. And wait a few more days when da New Year's Eve tourists hit da town. Holy shit! What a fucking madhouse! It's going to be so crowded dat da bums and whores will be picking their own pockets."

Despite his swearing, the cabbie had Lucy laughing, but these New Yorkers took swearing to a higher level. The most used word in the New York City vocabulary was "Fuck." She could tell Gus wasn't crazy about his language, either. Although laughing along with Lucy, Gus had clearly grown out of talking like that, but she continued. "I'm not used to being crowded," said Lucy. "I'm more used to the wide-open spaces. In my neighborhood in Denver, we had horses at our house."

"That sounds cool an' shit, but dat's Denver. Dis is da big apple. We let the cops ride the horses for us. Newcomers to New York are always overwhelmed by da greatest city on eart."

"Then why don't they have a football team?" asked Lucy. "The only city in New York with an NFL team is Buffalo."

The cabbie's flustered response couldn't be heard over Gus's roars of laughter. It's obvious that Lucy has become a full-fledged Buffalonian. "She's got a point," said Gus. "The Jets and Giants play in New Jersey. They should change their name to the Jersey Jets and the Jersey Giants."

"Yeah, but everyone dat goes to da game is from New Yawk," said the cabbie.

"And what state gets all that tax money from the tickets and concessions?" asked Lucy. "What state gets to give their people jobs at the stadium?"

"Hey yeah! Yer right, lady! We should git our teams back!"

"If they ever start winning," said Lucy, causing Gus to laugh even harder.

By the time they settled on building a new stadium in Brooklyn for the re-christened Brooklyn Giants, the heritage cab tour of New York City was over, and they stopped at the Moynahan Train Hall, a new addition to Penn Station, it was a new arrival area for Amtrak and Long Island Transit. "Come on, let's take a look at this work of modern architecture before we check in to our hotel," said Gus.

"I feel silly dragging my overnight bag around with me," complained Lucy. Gus had assured her that their main luggage was forwarded to their hotel by the airline.

"Don't worry about it. Our hotel room is our next stop."

They entered a door that said "To All Trains" like a proper train station should advertise, but past that door it was a modern dystopian imitation of a train station. It was a vast open room with escalators poking up through the floor. The edges of the open emptiness were lined with stores and restaurants. It had less in common with a train station and more in common with a suburban shopping mall of the 1980s. In the vast open space, NPCs milled about aimlessly, bums and junkies slept in corners and next to the escalator guard rails, hipsters walked around with "man" buns and enormous paper cups of coffee that cooled off hours ago. "I think I like Grand Central Terminal better," said Lucy as she looked at the ultra-modern glass and steel behemoth. "The art at Grand Central is beautiful, historic, warm... This is cold."

"I didn't know you were an architecture fan," said Gus.

"Not architecture so much as the art and the trains," said Lucy. "I really like trains."

"I'm glad to hear that. Trains are not really a girly thing to like."

Lucy turned around and glared at her new husband. "And what about me screams 'girly?'"

"Well, I..."

"Drag racing? Is that a girly thing? A 1969 Chevy nova that can turn the quarter mile in seven seconds. Is that girly?"

"Well, I..."

"Mountain biking? Snowmobiling? Calf roping?"

"Wait, calf roping? When did that become a thing?"

"Well, I never did calf roping, but I wanted to, but mom and dad had me wearing lawn jockey clothing and riding dressage." She pronounced the word dressage with distaste. "I wanted to try calf roping. I guess I was lucky to be allowed to compete in barrel racing."

"I suppose that barrels are easy to beat..."

"I wanted to be a cowboy and instead I became an equestrian. What's girly about being a cowboy?"

"I get it. You like things that involve speed and power, that really doesn't bring Amtrak to mind," chuckled Gus.

"I love trains. Do you realize how much will power it took to keep me from shoving John and Cholly out of the way so I could play with their Lionel set?"

"I didn't realize," started a befuddled but laughing Gus.

"Blame Howard Driscol and the twins," said Lucy. "Andi's dad and I took them on every train in Colorado. I don't know if he was trying to buy his way into Andi's heart or just sharing something he loved, but the twins loved riding any train they could get on. We rode the Georgetown Loop at least once a month, and in the winter, we'd take the Ski Train to Winter Park. They loved the California Zephyr from Denver to Glenwood Springs, but they adore any 'Chuffy Train.'"

"Chuffy train... that's cute," said Gus.

"Where is this mystery hotel?"

They reached the bottom of the escalator and beneath the vast empty room full of random people; they found an immense basement filled with railroad passenger cars all lined up neatly, awaiting their call to duty. They followed the line of people along track number 14. This part looked and smelled like a train station. It was filled with soot and grease, and the smell of scorched ozone from decades of electric locomotives filled the air. While most of the people were heading toward the head end of the train, Gus led Lucy into a car near the rear of the train. They stepped into the car and Andi saw the aisle was to the right-hand side of the car and knew what Gus had up his sleeve. "This is our hotel, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am it is. Your honeymoon suite is on wheels." With a cry of delight, Lucy threw her arms around her new husband and kissed him long and passionately. With a laugh of relief and joy, Gus urged her deeper into the car, where an Amtrak employee waited for them. Andi was right when she told Gus that Lucy would love this surprise.

The car steward opened a door and said, "Mister and Missus Didomissio, welcome aboard the finest rolling hotel in America. This is your room; I will fold down this couch to a full-size bed after dinner. The upper bunk we can use for storage. This is your private bathroom, toilet, sink and shower. If you need anything, information, coffee, ice, let me know. There's a call button right here," and he showed them the control panel. "If you would like to dine in your room, I can bring items from the café car menu, but I highly suggest dining in the dining car. Meals there are included in your fare."

The room was small, almost tiny, but for a suite on a train, it was spacious. A large couch with a high seatback was along the rear wall, a single seat faced the couch, and a fold-up table was between the single seat and the couch. The right-hand wall featured a huge window, and above that, a second window for the upper bunk passenger, if the upper bunk was folded down. The left-hand wall had a tiny toilet and shower, and next to that the door into the passageway.

"Welcome aboard train ninety one, the Silver Meteor," said the Stewart as he prepared to leave. "We will pull out in six minutes."

Lucy lay down on the couch with her head in Gus's lap. "This was a nice surprise. I was expecting a couple of days in Manhattan fighting crowds, eating overpriced food and punching muggers."

"You don't want to see New York City?"

Lucy shrugged. "I was there a few years ago." She counted off her accomplishments on her fingers. "I went to the top of the Empire State Building, I ate at McDonalds in Times Square, I rode the subway, I rode the Staten Island Ferry, I saw the MOMA, I watched somebody film a scene for some TV show. I think it was Bluebloods. What else is there to do?"

"We could see a Broadway play..."

"We saw The Outsiders at Shea's Buffalo, orchestra seats, sixth row center and the original Broadway cast and the tickets each cost $400 less than what the Bernard Jacobs Theater on Broadway charges. What would that extra eight hundred dollars have gotten us on Broadway?"

Gus shrugged. "Snob appeal?"

"The Empire State is just fine north of Pennsylvania, but I still prefer Empire, Colorado," said Lucy.

"I've only been to Denver a couple of times. Where is Empire Colorado?" asked Gus.

"It's a small mountain community not far from Georgetown and was named for New York State. It's just beautiful there, lots of camping and hiking. I know of an area with an old ore mine, so there were lots of level paths to walk on. The level paths turned out to be the remains of ore cart tracks. I took the twins on their first hike there." She took out her phone and found a picture of the blond cuties in a forest. They were two-years-old and were still new to walking and they were looking up at the trees in wonder.

Just then, the train gave a slight lurch and began rolling. Outside the window, they could see the station platforms sliding away behind them and they entered a dark tunnel of concrete and steel with an occasional signal light slipping past. They could feel the train lurch from side to side as they switched from track to track to line up with the main, and soon they were crossing under the Hudson River in the North River tunnel.