"The Golden Spike" short stories by Analey and Ireland

The RailRoad Party; A story told by: Mr. John ( Jonny) Glas 

Walking around you could plainly see the excitement on the faces of my colleagues as we prepared to put in the final railroad spike into the ground. We gathered ’round, one man was picked from each company to help hammer the final nail in. My good pal Gerald Gunning was picked from our side, the UP co. Some guy named Thomas K. P. Frament  Jr. (they actually said all that), From the CP co. they each hammered twice, and it was in!

The companies were lined up on the track, the ale was being passed around. Glasses handed out, beer poured, wine bottles in the hands of some fancier folk. I myself preferred a good bottle of Guinness, though it was a trifle hard to come by then. At the time I was mighty excited to have finished the track, I wasn’t thinking yet about how I’d be employed after. So anyway, these two steam engines had pulled up to on the track, about the length of four men apart. One from my employer the Union Pacific RailRoad, the other from the Central Pacific RailRoad. Every workman, Businessman, News writers, photographers and a whole lot of other people were gathered around the two engines as I walked around toasting with my friends to our success, slapping the back of every man I passed muttering congratulations, ye’see I was a bit drunk. I climbed up one of the engines as they called for a picture, I saw another man had the same idea. We climbed up each our own engine reaching the front we held our glasses aloft tward each other. I, beer glass, and he, something of what looked like a long cat without its head (again mind you, I was a bit drunk). We Raised our glasses, and schnaPp!! The photo was caught. I jumped down from the engine and shook hands with the fellow with the long cat. Now up close I saw it was not a cat in his hand (The cat was on the ground beside him), but a bottle of a VERY expensive wine. A man of fine tastes he must be. “Now sir” I said “What might…the ale you have?” He responded with some name or other in such a manner of speaking I thought him drunk too! I asked the fellow his name, clearly this time, he responded “Mr. Botelè.” In turn, I told him mine. “I’m Mr. Jonny Glas. Would you join me for a drink?” “Indeed I’ll join you” said the man. We drank and were merry.  I came to know later that his name was Alfred Botelè, a salesman from the south.

To this day I call him my friend.

Written by Analey Wells

The Chateau Lafite-Rothschild

Finally makin’ my way across the west, I was in Promontory, Utah. I had a fine bottle of Chateau Lafite-Rothschild in hand. I was ready to face the world ahead of me, with my rather long cat Stinky Pete, of course! I had heard of the so-called “transcontinental railroad” that was bein’ finished' and I knew if I could make it up there, I’d have plenty of sales. Two of them railroad engines had been brought almost together up the track, and a bunch of fine lookin’ men (and some drunks too) had climbed the engines to celebrate. I wanted to see how much my ½ bottle of wine could sell for, considering it was Rothschild and all. I climbed up with the rest of these fine people (and drunks) and asked the man on the engine across, a question. In return the man asked me about my “ale” I had with me. I held it up to show him, but I do believe he was distracted because he started muttering about a cat. I never did sell my bottle of Chateau Lafite-Rothschild that day! But I did make a close friend that day, Jonny Glas, the funny-in-the-head man who thought my wine was a deformed cat.

-Mr. Alfred Botelè

Written by Ireland Lowder