Kindle Edition Amazon allewells.com Category:  Mainstream Publisher: Alle Wells ISBN-10:  1477503978 Type: Fiction Pages: 100 Copyright: Dec 26, 2011 ISBN-13: 9781477503973 Love has no boundaries within a man's heart. Set in the mid-twentieth century, this is the story of one man's life, his love, his success, and his sorrow. His strengths and weaknesses cross the boundaries of time and reach into our hearts, because everyone knows the Railroad Man. Excerpt Chapter I Decatur 1978 A Red-headed Woodpecker taps out a new pattern on the trunk of the pecan tree in the backyard. Over a hundred seasons have come and gone since I planted that tree. The low, sturdy limbs branching out on either side remind me of sitting in the crook of another limb with a beautiful redhead a lifetime ago. The flimsy paper plate in a basket flies across the table. I hold out a shaky hand to stop it from winding up on the kitchen floor. “There you go, Old Man, that’s all you get.” Flo says the same thing every morning as she serves up a half-fried egg and piece of loaf bread from a pop-up toaster. “Don’t we have any grits?” I ask, just in case or maybe just to irritate her. Flo points the greasy egg pan in my direction. Her voice sounds raspy from sucking down too many cigarettes. “I only buy instant grits, you know that. You don’t like instant grits. I’m not slaving over a hot stove to make grits for you. Besides, I just got my hair done.” I look at her hair and then back at the woodpecker probing inside a crevice looking for the perfect morsel. The older Flo gets, the higher her hair rises like the biscuits she never bakes. Flo never was a good cook. I long for the buttery biscuits I remember having in Riverside that rose high and fluffy sort of like Flo’s dyed hair. Water splatters on the green-speckled linoleum floor as Flo throws the egg pan into the sink. “Mick MacDonald, what the hell are you staring at?” I come back to the dirty kitchen with the plastic poinsettia print table cloth and loud-mouth Flo. She stands over me. Her face looks mean and wrinkled with time, her bony frame lost in a maroon velour housecoat. She waits for me to keep the exchange going. Since retirement, my life has been reduced to Flo’s constant bickering. I shake her off. I twirl my fork in the sunlight. I learned over the years to always check the seat before I sit down and the utensils before I use them. “I was just trying to figure that out.” Flo backs off like I knew she would. She slings the dishwater while I wash down the half-cooked egg with frozen concentrate orange juice. After breakfast, I clomp out to the living room and turn on the TV. My ten o’clock show, Bonanza, is on. I don’t hear so well from all those years running the engine, so I turn up the volume. Flo raises her volume above the TV and wags her knobby finger at me. “Look, Old Man, I have to watch my show at eleven o’clock. So you just keep that in mind.” Flo found religion watching those bloodsucking TV evangelists since she got too old to do much else. She shuts the bathroom door, wiling away the next hour even if somebody else might need to use it. I lean back in my recliner for a power nap and a little peace. A sharp fingernail goes rat-a-tat on my tender bald spot. Rolling my eyelids up from a blissful dream of what might have been, I see Flo’s face that holds more war paint than her TV idol. “Get up, Old Man. It’s time for my show. You can have the bathroom now.” I have a half mind to leave that old bat and go back to Riverside. I clamber unsteadily to the bathroom, wishing I wasn’t so stiff. I press some Brylcreem on my thin hair, make it look nice and neat just the way the ladies like it. The steamy mirror tells me that I’m still tall, dark, and handsome; Killer, they used to call me. The small knick on my chin tells me that I’m just a little shaky, that’s all. I pull the last fresh white shirt from my bedroom closet. Checking myself in the mirror, I pop the starched seam in my pinstripes and straighten my tie. I slide the lockbox that holds the vinyl coin keeper from underneath my bed. I drag the duffle bag of dirty laundry out the bedroom door. I turn the small key with a click to keep her out of my room while I’m gone. The key-shaped whatnot hanging by the front door is empty. Flo leans in close to the TV, blubbering as she fumbles with the checkbook. I try to tune her in. “Don’t you give those people any more of my money! Where are my keys? I have to take my shirts to the laundry.” Flo stabs the checkbook with her ballpoint pen spotting the check with globs of ink. “Look here, Old Man. My name is on this checkbook, too. You’re just the devil, that’s what you are, trying to stop God’s work.” I pick up the remote from the coffee table and click. “There, it’s stopped.” Flo pounds her knobby fists on the upholstered chair. “Why did you do that? You are so mean! Now I don’t know where to send this check.” “Good!” I boom back at her. “Where are my keys?” Flo looks around the room like she’s lost in her own house. She shuffles through the pile of junk on the dining room table. She gives me a wide-eyed look. I know that look; something’s up. “They must be here somewhere.” Her voice is quiet. Something’s definitely up.

Portrait of a Man
Alle Wells has painted a portrait of a man during another time, almost another world yet within ours. Her words painted his story with a broad brush then filled in his life with fine details. I am old enough to remember the great engines and Railroad Man brought back wonderful memories of the squeal of the brakes and the clouds of steam as she came to carry the populace to the next stop in their lives. Mickey MacDonald knows he is one of the fortunate who has a good paying job in the 1930's. He has that bit of money to help out his mother and sisters keep their southern country home but also the extra to get him in trouble with the ladies. Losing his true love, he falls prey to his weakness. The author follows Mick through his career into the 1970's, through darkness punctuated by bits of joy. She leaves the reader with a well researched view of the period. Mick MacDonald, engineer, moved to diesel as the century progressed but never lost his love for steam. I feel the same.

Great Story, Great Flow, Great Characters!
This was a very enjoyable read. It was quick but satisfying as we follow Mick from the days after high school in the early 1900s to his retirement from the railroad. I loved the author's character building as we get to really know Mick, his family, and those he interacts with through life. I could picture each person clearly.

Realistic, Unforgettable Characters
It's 1933 and Mickey MacDonald is one of the lucky ones, having secured a job with the railroad when so many people are out of work. Mickey is riding high; he's young and has his whole life ahead of him. But when he's told he can't marry the girl he's loved since childhood, he begins heading down the wrong road which leads him to unhappiness. But that is not the end - there is much more!

Railroad Man tells a realistic story of railroad man Mickey MacDonald and spans a period of over 50 years of his life. This is not a fairytale romance with a happily-ever-after ending, but it is not a sad story either. Most of us have had love, success, heartache, failure and loss, and so has Mickey. In Railroad Man, author Alle Wells immerses us in a time in history when life was hard and people had to be tough to survive. She succeeds in portraying this time period with perfection and gives the reader a feel for what the early to mid-1900s were like. This novel is truly a unique story and is perfect for anyone who enjoys historical fiction.