Human beings in there took turns standing or lying down. The legs of those who stood were like fence posts driven into a warm, squirming, farting, sighing earth. The queer earth was a mosaic of sleepers who nestled like spoons.
Now the train began to creep eastward.
Somewhere in there was Christmas. Billy Pilgrim nestled like a spoon with the hobo on Christmas night, and he fell asleep, and he traveled in time to 1967 again--to the night he was kidnapped by a flying saucer from Tralfamadore.
Billy Pilgrim, traveling on a train and then on a flying saucer. Getting unstuck in time, once more. World War II to 1967. Germany to the United States to outer space.
I spent most of the day traveling, as well. Left home this morning, drove and ate, drove some more and shopped and ate, then drove some more. We are now in the Wisconsin Dells, at the Kalahari Resort. It is past midnight. My kids are tired and cranky. The adults are tired and cranky.
My daughter competed tonight at almost 10 p.m. Her group was given a gold trophy for their dance. Not bad at all, considering everyone spent the whole day in cars. So proud of my daughter. She did an amazing job.
My kids are ready for bed. I am ready for bed, after a slice of pizza.
Saint Marty is thankful for a safe trip and his talented daughter.