Chapter 1


Part One



SUMMER 1993


CHAPTER 1

     The dozen or so passengers waiting at the tiny light rail station at the edge of Mount Washington could feel the warmth of the early morning June sun. Fragments of the early haze lingered among the large trees that filled the adjoining cozy neighborhood of large Victorian homes. Soon the last droplets of the evening's dew would escape to the air, carrying the scent of bark and leaves throughout the neighborhood. Already, the pale yellow sunlight of morning began to filter through the spaces between the leaves, making each walk along a winding hillside street an adventure in changing patterns of light.
     Randy was in his usual good mood as he looked at this week's issue of "Advertising Age" on the platform on the far side of the single track that emerged from the grove of trees to the north. Dressed in tan pleated trousers, brown loafers, a soft yellow shirt and a floral red and yellow tie, he looked every bit the part of the successful middle aged advertising manager, although he could easily have been taken for someone in his thirties rather than his age of 43.
     For nearly 21 years he had worked for one of the biggest firms in downtown Baltimore, which lay slightly more than five miles down the rust-colored track, its mirrored surface kept shiny by the passing of the four-car trains. His graying temples supported a pair of dark-framed reading glasses on his rugged angular face. When he heard the horn of the approaching train coming from his right, he carefully put his glasses in his leather satchel and moved closer to the edge of the platform.
     The blue and silver four-car consist approached the platform with a slight squealing of brakes as it slowed to a stop, screening the waiting passengers from the small parking lot that bordered the lazy stream running through the village. The sound of compressed air opening the doors temporarily drowned out the sound of the cars making their way towards downtown on the expressway only a block away.
     Randy had been glad for the arrival of the new light-rail line two years ago in 1991, for now he did not have to drive on days when he was free of distant client appointments. For the 25-minute trip, he could relax and watch the rapidly changing scenery from one of the large windows that seemed to wrap around the whole car. As the crowd from his stop moved towards the doors, Randy politely hesitated to let the others go first, but flinched when he rushed to beat the door closing.
     The right knee had its good and bad days, but the old bullet wound prevented him from running or playing the sports he liked in high school. In his youth, basketball had been his great love. When he enlisted in the Army to be trained as a war photographer during the Vietnam War, his plan was to go on to college afterwards play at a Division-1 school. The Viet Cong ambush had ended that dream.
     "I'm lucky," Randy would sometimes think if he happened to hear of the passing of one of his former war buddies. Or perhaps his wife, Linda, would pass on the details of another messy divorce that had led to another property listing. Randy still had his marriage, two lovely children, Marie, 12, and Jeff, 10, a home in a safe neighborhood and a great job. He could live with the knee.
     After finding a seat, Randy glanced at the people in the car. He had always enjoyed people watching. Today's group was a real mixture. As he looked at each one, the eye of a skilled photographer blurred out the surrounding clutter, and he only saw the face of each person that he saw, as if each person was sitting for a portrait. An elderly woman, her wrinkles indicating that she was perhaps 75 years old, dressed for work, occupies him for a few seconds. "How much longer will she be working?" Randy wondered.
     Next, his eyes wandered to an attractive younger woman facing him several seats away. She was dressed in a blue summer print dress, not too different in hue from the color of the car seats and was reading a novel. "Too young to be working," he thought, captivated by her innocent expressions. For many years, he had loved to look in on his daughter sleeping and just feel the deep feelings of love elicited by her angelic face, and this sight brought on similar feelings.

~ ~ ~

     The young lady glanced over the top of her book, caught the sweep of his friendly eyes and then, responded with a simple smile. Randy, embarrassed at being caught staring, smiled back nervously, cleared his throat and turned his head towards the window. But his attention returned to her momentarily when he heard the ruffling of her dress as she crossed her legs, revealing slim stocking-less and lightly suntanned legs as her dress slid slightly above her knee. She continued to read intently as the sound of the wheels hummed over the rails beneath.
     He turned to look again, and this time only her legs were in clear focus. All other thoughts receded as he concentrated on the lovely curves and the smooth skin.
     The train stopped at one of the last stations, and now a group of standing passengers wiped out his tantalizing view. At the next station, which was now within the city limits, she departed, destination unknown. Randy watched her move past his window towards the front of the train with an easy gait, hips swinging effortlessly. Soon, the doors closed, and he watched as her form moving past his window, he shut his eyes, claiming the picture for his memory.

~ ~ ~

     "Camden Station!" Randy was jarred back to reality as the operator announced his stop with a distinct Baltimore City accent. "Last stop for downtown!" The train eased into the station, only a block from the new baseball stadium, a complex of classic red brick and green wrought iron that was getting lots of national attention for its design. The neighboring Camden Station railroad terminal, with its freshly painted white trim and trio of classic cupolas, was in plain view as he departed the train and headed down Pratt Street.
     He had to hurry. It was 8:45 and he needed to be in the office, four blocks away, by 9:00 this morning. Old man Jenkins had called a special 9:30 meeting for the entire staff, and Randy wanted to be sure all members of his project team were ready.

—§ —