# The train driver (1)

Peter Steel, 55, married, father of two girls, Rachel and Margaret, aged 23 and 25, respectively. He was a man of 180 centimeters height and a well-defined character, had decided from an early age that one day, when he was old enough to work, he would want to be a train driver; Perhaps this idea arose through the indirect influence of the maternal grandfather, when the latter, on December 25 and after the family lunch, after having gone to the collection and returned with a huge box.


- Is it for me, grandfather? It is for me? - asked Little Peter, skipping around his grandfather's legs. - Is it for me? It is for me?
- Of course it is, big one! - said the grandfather, who treated him as a big boy.
- What is? What is? - he asked excitedly.
- You'll have to open, see. - said the grandfather as he handed the parcel to his hands and saw his grandson throw himself at him like a lioness to his prey.
- A train! - shouted the little one, too excited with the package that his grandfather had offered him.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with little Peter Stell kneeling on the floor enjoying his gift, speaking audibly the most varied stories, with ripped happiness stamped on the face.

From that day forward, every time his father and mother saw him coming home, by the end of the afternoon, they would soon be asked,

- Did you see the trains again?

To which he replied affirmatively, each day with a new story to complement the usual task of watching the trains pass on the west line.

- Today at 4:33 pm he made a sign with two different buffers ... - adding with emotion - And the one at 17:03 was being driven by a driver I do not know. He paused. "He did not even greet me.

The next day, the routine was repeated and the other day as well.
When he finished school, his father enrolled him, at his request, at the Institute of the Motor Industry. From then on the train driver training was a jump, seeing, Peter Steel, at the age of 51, sitting at the controls of a Class 395 "Javelin."

Over the course of five years he proudly walked thousands of miles of rails to carry the most varied cargo; Coal, wood, stone, cement, etc. But on the 12th of August, the day he turned 26, he was informed that he was going to be promoted to a first-class driver and that he would conduct transport compositions Of passengers.

It was four years of tremendous work, until the day his first daughter, Margaret, was born. When she was born, Peter was a hundred miles from home. It was the day after the birth that he can visit her in the maternity ward. After Margaret's birth, he still remained on the long-distance lines for another two years. It was with the arrival of Rachel that Peter decided to request transfer to the short lines, happening, to the 32 years of age to be, at the maximum, fifty miles of distance of house. With this change his maturity suffered a small cut; He was certain, however, that the £ 3 500 he received monthly would come to live comfortably with his family.

For 25 years, his routine was the steep path between St. Pancras Station and Southend Victoria Station. He did several shifts, but that did not bother him; Was more at home with his family and that, to him, was more important than any extra money he could earn in long-distance lines or international courses

He knew, on the day he turned 55, that retirement was "at the door." Sooner or later he would be approached by the administration of the British railway, in order to be informed of his last day's work. This reality did not bother him, as it was his habit to say, - I like trains very much, but I hope to be a grandfather in a very short time, so I'll have time to take care of the grandchildren.

Peter was still talking to Barbara, his wife, about the future when they were grandparents; The education they would give their grandchildren, the trips they would make to the world outside, and the country house they planned to buy.

And that day has come.

One month after celebrating the 55 years of age, Peter was called to the General Office.

- Peter ...- Carl, the director general began, - ...the time has come, my friend! - Carl invited Peter to sit down. He sat down. Continued. - ... as you know, you have reached the age limit and, unfortunately for us, but fortunately for you, your job in this service has reached the end of the line. - Peter looked at him, with some emotion in his eyes. - It was a great pride to work with you and learn so much from what you always had to teach me. I'm so lucky to have your friendship. But if you look at this process of activity ending on the bright side, you will have more time for yourself and Barbara. - he got up and walked over to Peter. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. He patted him on the right leg. - You can buy the house you've had for a long time and make your own plantations.

- I thank you for your friendship.- he ran his right thumb out of the corner of his eye, wiping away a tear that was beginning to form. - And when will it be the last trip? -  he asked.
- It's going to be tomorrow, the alignment of 8:39 hours, to finish big.
«The last trip! He thought.»
- Then, my friend, as I told you, a house in the country and enjoy life. One of these days you are a grandfather and you will have all the time in the world for your grandchildren.

Peter smiled at him.

- We are like this; Then we'll have plenty of time to drink some beers and eat some snails. - he rose, as did Peter. - Give Barbara a kiss.
- I'll do that! - he said, giving Carl a friendly hug. He walked to the door, leaving without looking back.

An hour later, at home, sitting in the high-backed armchair, wrapped in a bottle-green velvet set in front of the television, Peter talked to Barbara, telling him about the day's event.

- It seems like yesterday that I ran to the hillside to watch the locomotives pass by, and now you're informing me that the day after tomorrow ...- he paused -... the day after tomorrow, no! That after 8:39 hours tomorrow, I will not be back in command of any train.

(to be continued)

Fotos: Mattbauck