Dating : A Chicken on the Track.

A Chicken on the Track.

Phoenix embraces the feeling of the wind that blows his shirt around as he charges along the vibrating tracks under his feet. He looks back to consider the distance between himself and the oncoming train. So far, it is still a small black smudge in the centre of a large and open canvas but he knows too well that it won’t be long before that smudge becomes a ferocious beast of metals and mechanics, hurling towards him at a speed man could only dream to achieve on their own two feeble legs. With the confirmed math in his head, he reckons that he has around 30/40 seconds before he could be flattened like a bug on the heel of a boot. Better pick up the pace if this record wants broken.

Ahead of him he can see the small, barely-readable, figures of Burt and Paulie. They’ve been doing this stupid shit since they were 12 and even now, with all three turning 17 and 18, they don’t seem to be at a point of stopping. That’s not to say it’s hasn’t been discussed. Paulie is usually the one to suggest maybe it’s time to stop, that their luck will run out one day and it will be painted along the ground in their limbs. Phoenix thinks it’s because he has been accepted into his first choice university and now he’s suddenly thinking of the future. Sometimes Phoenix agrees, especially when he puts it like that, but unfortunately it’s an addiction he isn’t ready to set aside just yet. Burt goes with the flow. He is a bit of a sociopath, Phoenix thinks. When Paulie comes to them both with fresh concerns, he shrugs and laughs.

“Fuck it, man. When I go, I go.”

Here comes the bend of the track, Phoenix’s chest is starting to tighten now. Another quick check behind him. It’s closer. Much closer. The horn is blaring. The driver can see him now, too. That’s how close. Phoenix is a little disappointed, he didn’t cover much ground this time. He still has a few seconds left in him though, he buries his head into his shoulders and swings his arms a little faster and pushes a little harder.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK.

Phoenix can just about hear the muffled shouts of Paulie. It’s easy to forget just how quick these mother fucking trains are. Feel that? Sweat. It’s getting caught up in Phoenix’s eyelashes as it lazily drips down his forehead. It’s a hot day and Phoenix knows that he should have considered this, a rookie mistake. He doesn’t need the distraction. The vibrations of the track are now messing with his ability to balance as he runs. He looks back. Ah shit. The jig is up, time to jump.

A rock, maybe the size of a large human fist, is wedged in between the metal rails and makes itself known to Phoenix. His right foot, just as he drops it to adjust his body and apply the necessary pressure to his lower body to leap, comes down on the rock’s lopsided shape which causes his ankle to bend and go limp. Phoenix tumbles in a heap. His elbows crack against the metal and his stomach flops onto the solid ground. A little stunned, he rolls onto his back. Breaths deeply.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. Deeper breath. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. Head raised. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. Train’s close. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. Shit, that’s pretty close.

In a last ditch effort, Phoenix gracefully flops his body from the track and produces a pencil like roll off the aggressively vibrating steel. He tumbles harshly on the dry dirty ground, he brings his body to a stop. Closes his eyes shut. Tight. The cracked air from the passing train ripples through his shirt and trousers.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNK.

The train disappears quicker than it arrived. Then there is nothing for a while. The air resumes it’s calm presence and the cries of seagulls overhead softly introduce themselves back into the world. Running footsteps approach in between the grunts and puffs.

Phoenix’s muscles ache instantly and he can feel blood trickle down his left forearm. He opens his eyes to the faces of Burt and Paulie peering down to his own. No one speaks for a moment.

“Next train’s in 10 minutes. It’s Paulie’s turn.” Burt, to both.

A hand is raised out to him, it’s Paulie’s. Phoenix grabs it and is lifted to his feet. Dusting himself off, he looks back over to the track and approaches. He finds the rock and uses the heel of his boot to un-wedge it, it takes a few kicks because it’s really in there. He then fills the small ditch that it has left with dirt and stomps it flat. Throwing the rock aside and catching up with Paulie and Burt.