You are packing an overnight bag for your weekend getaway to the City, as part of the Jubilee Station Concert Club. Your backpack is sitting on your bed, along with most of the clothing you own. You are running late for your scheduled train, which you are meant to take with the rest of the Club.
The set list for tonight’s show has been playing from the speaker that sits on your dresser. Your bedroom window is open to the spring breeze, and you smell freshly cut lawn clippings from your neighbor mowing their lawn. You feel the coolness of your hardwood floor under your bare feet. You pause the music, rest your hands on the metal footboard of your bed, close your eyes, and gather yourself with a slow breath.
When you finally reach the train station, 10 minutes after your scheduled train has left, you see Mayor Ashley on the platform, holding a Concert Club sign. You walk up to her and ask, “Did you wait just for me?”
She says, “I totally would, but no, I’m running late too. So is like half the group. It’s no problem. I changed all our tickets, and the next train will be here in 5 more minutes. Honestly, I think I’m on Team Straggler pretty much every time we do this.”
There are ten of you in the later group, ranging in age from college students to retirees. Mayor Ashley leads the group into the café car, where everyone finds a seat at one of the open tables. She drops her backpack next to you and says, “I’m getting us some snacks. If we can’t be punctual, we can at least be well fed.”
Sitting across from you are two middle aged men, both sporting well-worn concert T-shirts from younger days. “Hi, I’m Larry, and this is my brother Darryl,” the first one says. “I’m the one who sent you the playlist. I take it this is your first time out with the Concert Club?”
You say, “It’s nice to meet you. Yes, it’s my first time.”
Darryl chimes in, “You’re gonna love this show. We’ve gone to see this artist a few times over the years. His albums are great, but his live concerts are just really special.”
Mayor Ashley comes back with a flat rectangular cardboard box and several glass bottles. “You gotta respect a Pennsylvania café car,” she says. “Tomato pie, fresh this morning from Norristown, and ice cold birch beer.”
The four of you toast to your weekend getaway, and dig into the tomato pie. You pull a slice from the box, noticing the thick layer of grated Parmesan and Romano on top of the tomato sauce base. When you take a bite, the cheese is delightfully sharp and smoky. You realize that in your haste to get out the door, you had forgotten to eat lunch today.
Your train pulls into the City an hour later. You and Team Straggler take the light rail to the Jubilee Station Guesthouse, which sits on a busy corner not far from the river. Here, there are 25 guest rooms available, at very low prices, for when people from town come into the City.
When it’s your turn to check in, the clerk asks, “Is this your first time here?”
You say, “Yes. I used to live in the City. But I’ve never been to the guest house before.”
The clerk says, “In that case, welcome, and welcome back!”
The group agrees to meet in the lobby at 6:00 for dinner before the show. You head upstairs to your room, which is simple but comfortable, with poster-sized photos of Jubilee Station on the walls. You set down your backpack on the bed, taking a moment to wash your hands and face at the bathroom sink. As you dry your hands and face, the towel plush and soft beneath your fingers, you hear the familiar sounds of the City around you, and you take a deep breath.
When 6:00 rolls around, you and everyone else in the Concert Club have made it to the lobby on time. The group boards another light rail to a Thai restaurant near the venue for dinner. Over noodles and dumplings, Mayor Ashley asks you how you ended up in Jubilee Station.
She says, “I hope you plan to stick around for a while. We need people like you.”
Darryl, eavesdropping on the conversation, leans over to say, “I first came here for a summer internship in college. It was supposed to be 3 months. That was almost 30 years ago. This place grows on you.”
You say, “Yes, I feel that.”
The concert this evening is taking place in an old converted brick warehouse. The artist and his band come out on stage, and everyone leans forward in their seats in anticipation before the first notes.
Back at the guest house for the night, you head upstairs to your room, and realize you are too excited from the show and the evening to go to sleep right away. You notice a light on at the end of the hall, through an open doorway. You walk down to take a look, and you discover a lounge that is open all day and night. There is a kitchenette with a well stocked fridge, a coffee and tea station, some comfy couches and chairs, and a dining table that has a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle sitting on it, partially completed. You fix yourself a cup of rooibos chai, sit down at the table, and take an easy, relaxed breath.
Studying the picture on the front of the puzzle box, you notice a sticker on its side that says Jubilee Station Puzzle Exchange. You look up at the shelf next to the table and see a stack of puzzle boxes, all bearing the same label. You sip your tea, the City growing quieter outside as it settles into night, and you start sifting through pieces.