A hundred years ago, the city's central train terminal had been a marvel of early twentieth century architecture. With high vaulted ceilings, sweeping arches, lots and lots of marble, and a style that seemed to be a blend of Neo-Gothic and Art Deco, for a long time it had been almost as much a tourist attraction as it had been travel hub. Millions of people every day swarmed the platforms, and quite a few classic movies had been filmed in the main hall.
After World War II however, with the rise of air travel and the increased use of cars, the now thirty year old station lost some of its luster. It wasn't noticeable at first, and in fact for nearly twenty years afterward the station serviced more passengers than ever, mainly due to the ever increasing population of the city. But more and more people were using cars or planes to get to the city.
By the seventies, the decline was obvious, and an overly stressed city budget just didn't want to invest the amount of money necessary on upkeep of the now 'classic' building. Murals on the walls weren't cleaned with the same care, and the marble stairs started to gather a certain hollowed out look from the millions of feet that tread upon them every day.
Around the turn of the century, there was an attempt at renovating the station, so some of the biggest eyesores were fixed, but some of the magic had been lost, forever. It was this station that Mark and I stepped into, our bags slung over our shoulders and my still unfamiliar feeling wedding band pressing into my left ring finger from where he and I were holding hands. "You know, that's the first time I've ever ridden the train cross-country," I said as we walked through the main hall. "It was a lot of fun."
Mark grinned. "Considering that we used the ka-tan-ka-tun of the wheels to such good effect, I agree."
I blushed lightly and slapped his chest, earning a wistful look from a housewife who could obviously see how much we were in love. Mark was right, however. We had used the rhythm of the wheels and the bed in the sleeper car to very good effect.
"Actually, I was thinking of your little karaoke session in the dining car last night."
It was Mark's turn to blush. The night before, after dinner had been cleared away, an informal karaoke session had broken out on the train. I could understand. For a lot of the passengers, it was still early in the evening, and Amtrak doesn't put televisions or Internet on those sleeper cars. For the passengers who hadn't paid for a sleeper car, it was even worse, as they could only look forward to an evening in a seat not much more comfortable than the type you get on an airliner. The dining car, at least, offered some space to try and stretch your arms and legs, and talk to other people.
I don't know who had started the session, but it built up quite a little crowd, maybe about a dozen or more. The dining car actually did have a sound system with instrumental music, so the bartender helped out by letting us select tracks from the three CDs.
The highlight for me, however, was when during a lull, Mark got up from our little chairs and sat down on the bar stool. The group quieted down, curious as Mark waved the bartender off.
"It's been a while since I did a lot of singing, but I'll try my best," he said, before clearing his throat. With his new identity, he was letting more of his soft natural Southern into his speech patterns again, and smiled. "A long, long time ago, I can still remember, how that music used to make me smile...."
I don't really know if Mark made any mistakes in the lyrics of the old Don McLean song, but I do know that his resonant voice filled the car with music, as another patron, a older black man who looked like he had grown up in the Motown do-wop era, backed him up with a pretty good imitation of the music using just his voice and tapping his table. By the final round of the chorus, most of us were singing along, and the whole group applauded at the end.
"I just felt like singing," Mark deflected, his blush deepening as I grinned at him. Mark was very, very cute when he was embarrassed. "Come on, we need to catch a bus."
To give at least a veneer of appearance to our re-entering the city, Mark and I were officially staying at one of the buildings that Mark owned in the city. The small efficiency apartment was smaller than even the one I'd had when I was a medical student, but it worked for the few days we needed. "So do you think Tabby will be surprised with our present?"
"Of course. I'm still giddy about it myself. By the way, once we get this all settled, we're finding you a doctor for your first check-up. You may be trained, and I know you're healthy, but I'm not taking any chances."
Smiling, I came over to the bed where Mark was sitting and took his face in my hands, kissing him on the nose, then on the lips, then on the nose again. "You, my dear husband, are going to be the best father in the whole damn world."