A Leap of Faith

It seemed an age since I last ventured below the Mason-Dixon line. Or go beyond the borders of New York state. Or even emerge from my Manhattan brownstone. But if the answers to my questions weren't coming to me then I would have no recourse but to travel to them. And so, Monday morning found me waiting for my train to depart Penn Station. You really haven't seen America until you've seen it from a train.

It isn't just the scenery speeding by the cabin windows. It's also the changing aspects of the passengers. Their faces, attire and accents transform organically with each stop and truly represent the flavor of their community. I can think of no better entertainment to pass the time on a long journey than watching this passing parade of humanity.

By 5 PM we arrived at the the capitol of Virginia. And by 6 PM I was standing outside the Hotel Richmond. The site of what could be my greatest act of desperation to date. I knew I needed to speak to my long-lost uncle John Carter, but had no way of contacting him. He was a warlord of a distant planet. Or dead. Or both. I could never quite grasp the situation. The last time I did meet with him was in a room at the Hotel Richmond. My sole option was to return to that room to look for clues as to Captain Jack Carter's current location. A desperate leap of faith, to say the least, but my only lead.

I entered the hotel and approached the concierge. A genial chap by the name of Sergei. Sergei was expecting me, but he persisted in trying to hand me a plastic card when I asked for my room key. In Sergei's defense he was foreign-born, so his command of English may not have been equal to the task. Finally, I surrendered and took the plastic card offered and made my way to the room. Perhaps it would be unlocked.

I found the door to my lodgings ajar. As I stepped into it's dimly lit recesses I met a sight that caused me to halt in mid-step. My Uncle John Carter, waiting for me in the sitting room of the suite.

-ERB

Next: An unexpected reunion.