Whispers Along The Rails

The summer of 1970 smelled of hot asphalt, freshly cut grass, and the sweet, syrupy fizz of Coca-Cola. I was fifteen, and the world was a ripe peach, waiting for me to take the first bite. My entire being was tuned to a single, glorious frequency: Jesse Campbell.

Jesse was my first love, a feeling so immense and all-consuming I was certain he would be my only love. Forever. It was more than his sun-bleached hair or the way he grinned. There was intense deep emotional connection and attraction to him. A deep, resonant hum in my soul that only quieted when he was near. I hoped, I prayed, he felt the same hum for me.

That first glorious morning of freedom from school, I luxuriated in my bed until the clock blinked a decadent 10:00 AM. The phone’s shrill ring sliced through the quiet.

“Are you planning on sleeping the entire summer away?” demanded the voice on the other end. Sophia. My best friend.

I laughed into the receiver. “Okay, Sleepy Head, what time did you get up?” I could picture her perfectly, a riot of dark curls, still in her pajamas, coiled around the kitchen phone cord.

“I’ve been up for a while,” she declared.

“Yeah, probably all of fifteen minutes.”

Her laugh was a bright, familiar sound. “You’re close. Thirty.” We giggled, two conspirators launching our campaign on the summer.

"What's up? Are you up for a bike ride later on today?" I asked then added with my voice dropping as if someone might be listening, "Actually Jesse told me he’d see me around noon. At Paul’s.” Even saying his name sent a jolt through me. I loved him that much. “We are both biking there. Do you think you and Dean could meet us there?”

“Yes, I think that would be good,” she said, and I could almost hear her dramatic sigh. “Too bad we aren’t just a little older. We could drive a car.”

“Whose car would we use? Your brother’s." I threw out a teasing remark, though I knew better than anyone that it was a total impossibility. I knew Sammy.

She sighed, "I could use my brother's car. But I'd have to sneak the keys while he sleeps. He sleeps until noon, usually. He's be ready to kill me when he found out. Actually he might just kill me."

We both laughed. Sophia's brother, Sammy was all of nineteen. He was a rough and tough guy. He often used very blunt language. I didn't think that he meant all that he said but I was never quite sure. I watched myself carefully when I was around him. It was my opinion that Sophia should also. But she often tormented in a joking or playful way. I chalked it up to sibling rivalry but sometimes she went too far. I knew that and I'm sure that she did also. Or should have.

"He probably would, for sure."

“I’ll call Dean,” she finally said. “We’ll both be there if he says yes. And I think he will. He is DEEPLY in love with me.” I could see her, head tilted, a theatrical hand on her chest. With Sophia, you never knew if she was serious, and that was her charm.

An hour later, the four of us were crammed into a red vinyl booth at Paul’s, the air thick with the smell of frying burgers and the sound of the music on the jukebox. Jesse’s knee brushed against mine under the Formica table, and the entire world narrowed to that single point of contact. We talked, we laughed, we fed nickels into the jukebox until our pockets were empty.

It was Jesse who finally broke the comfortable rhythm. “You know what we should do?” he asked, a familiar twinkle in his blue eyes. “We should go down to the spooky old railroad line while it's still there. From what I read in the paper, the railroad tracks are probably going to be dismantled soon and they will become public walking trails. The article suggested that this was about to happen."

Dean groaned playfully. “For real? There’s nothing down there but ticks and old ties. And what about the Blackwood family? Don't they still own the property down there?”

“They may own some of the property but not all of it. Some of it belongs to the railroad company, at least right now. Besides it’s not about what’s there,” Jesse said, his gaze locking with mine. “It’s about the going. It’s like embarking on a far-flung adventure.”

A far-flung adventure? How could anyone say no to that? I know that I never could. An adventure with my friends and especially with Jesse.

“But,” I interjected, a thread of reality weaving through my daydream. “I have to be home by four. If my dad gets home and I’m not there, that’s it. My summer is over. I’ll be grounded until school starts.”

Sophia nodded vigorously. “Same here. And Sammy would love it if I were grounded. You all know that he would.”

We all smiled because we knew Sophia's brother.

Jesse’s smile was a promise. He leaned toward me, his voice low. “I promise to have you girls back by four, if not before. I don’t want my little Penny locked up all summer.” He held my gaze, and the hum in my soul became a symphony. “I have other plans for her.”

We spilled out of the cool, dark restaurant into the brilliant noon sun, squinting as we mounted our bikes. Jesse stood on his pedals, looking back at us like a general surveying his troops.

“Alright!” he yelled, his voice carrying on the heavy summer air. “We are heading out into the unknown!”

And with that, he was off, a flash of denim and tanned skin, cutting through the heat. The rest of us scrambled to follow, the wind whipping through our hair as we pedaled hard, laughing and shouting, trying desperately to keep up with our leader, with my true love, racing toward whatever adventure lay on those forgotten, sun-bleached tracks.

I had heard my parents as they talked. They said that there was a big loss of industries in our small town so the railroad tracks were seldom-used now. The garment factory that used to transport their goods by the tracks had closed down and was not likely to return. There wasn't much else in the area. An old furniture factory had also closed down earlier this year.

They had also come across a report that hinted the railway tracks winding through the outskirts of town were likely to be removed in the near future. A recent article in the local newspaper had focused on a series of abandoned rail lines that had fallen into disuse, describing how the once‑busy corridors were now overgrown with weeds, rusted rails, and forgotten signal boxes. The piece went on to explain that municipal planners were considering a proposal to lift the old tracks and repurpose the right‑of‑way as a network of public walking trails—an idea that would transform the neglected strip of land into a greenway for hikers, cyclists, and families seeking a peaceful escape from the urban bustle.

According to the article, the town council had already begun preliminary discussions about the feasibility of such a project. Most likely the tracks were going to be dismantled soon.

We followed our leader Jesse on our bikes along the railroad tracks. Jesse apparently wanted to go before anything happened to the neglected tracks. He wanted to see it while it was still intact.

Jesse parked his bike and we followed him. We walked on the tracks, trying to balance ourselves as we tried to run. Not a good plan because we often fell. But being young, we'd just laugh and brush ourselves off. No one wanted to be called a chicken. Absolutely no one.

However our adventure came to an abrupt end when Sophia fell and began screaming and screaming.

"What on earth?" I asked myself. "That's just not like Sophia."

Her endless shrieks pierced the air, signaling a true nightmare that was unfolding.