It was Saturday then and at the Dartmoor Train Station
It was Saturday then and at the Dartmoor Train Station. They had their signs and the plans of whom they might meet and where they might go and who to call if arrest, who to call if arrest, who to call if arrest. Ted wondered if Mary also wondered why they were going again to an anti-war demonstration in Philadelphia and Ted wondered how he would occupy his mind and it would probably be another unwritten novel in his mind and he wondered what Mary would do but, luckily, as they got on the R#3
she found an old friend of hers that was Ted averse. And he her. And he her.
First it swirled in his head, the Nippler Arena, Rockin’54 maybe Rockin’59, then Joe from Upstate. Slowly it came together, Nippler Arena was a minor league Hockey Arena in some fictional Pennsylvania City, call it Holstock if that hasn’t been used, maybe the Holstock Heathen, in the DE Penn Nj league, probably a Rookie League affiliated with the NHL. Or maybe an Indy League where
most of them weren’t goin up or down but still had dreams, still had dreams.
Passing the Morton stop he remembered a friend who had stopped being one for reasons unknown.
It wasn’t even a proper separation, he just stopped returning phone calls and-
So this un named guy works in a community college mail room, which he once did, steals classical records mailed to departed Faculty (noone really cares), is part of as group that goes to the games at
The Nip’, having nips before, during and after…..
Secane Stop was where there were a Y he used to go to during his periodic bouts with exercise. The problem with exercise was, if it was a group, you worried about keeping up, if you were a single, you tried to keep ambition up, and besides why were you there anyhow….
so this guy majors in bar belles, one night falls, women with a lot of problems or just one, drinking. They go together until they don’t, neither one wanting anything approaching serious but both wanting someone they can point to as in “Well, now, I’m seeing ___________ and it might be getting to the point-” But it never did. Never would. He wasn’t sure what he wanted.
Primos station had only one memory for him and it was never easy. This had been a couple they used to go out with and talk about movies, politics, religion, and well, almost everything. They would pick them up because Frank was “feared” of driving after a bad accident and Myra didn’t. Once they knew
their frailities, or some of them, it was easy to open up about theirs. They didn’t have to “not talk about things” as Mary always wanted to say. One night there was a gunshot-