Struggle

Bonus Entry, written January 15, 2025 but never posted 
We were watching a rerun of some spaghetti western that probably first aired when my grandpa was in high school. It was in black and white. Lots of cowboys, Conestoga wagons and native americans, although everyone in the show called them Indians. 

“I don’t think I can do it,” she said. 

We were both curled up under a blanket. She was lying on her side. I had a pillow on my lap where her head was resting, and I was running my fingers through her hair. 

“Why not?” I asked. “Other people have done it.”

On the screen, a bunch of cowboys were riding alongside a train. The crew was trying to make the train go faster but it was approaching a hill and it seemed like it wasn’t going to work. 

“I’m not other people. Other people know what to do and aren’t so…”

She did that thing she always does when she’s stressed and curled up more tightly, making herself smaller.

“Aren’t so what?” I asked.

“Aren’t so fucked up inside,” she said. 

We both watched as one of the crew members on the train started shoveling more coal into the furnace. The camera cut to a pressure gauge with the needle approaching the red. Another crew member scrambled along the top of the rail cars to the back of the train, dodging bullets from those in pursuit. 

“I heard an old saying once,” I said. “Pressure makes diamonds.”

She stayed quiet while I stroked her hair. 

“It was a guy I went to school with who said it. Really struggled with classes. We all thought he was lazy.”

The crew member reached the end of the train and decoupled the caboose from the rest of the train. The train sped up, but the cowboys were still catching up. 

“Turned out he was taking care of his mom. She had some disease where she had to stay in bed most of the day and the rest of the family refused to help her. He was doing that and working a part time job on top of school.” 

She stretched out a little. I hoped it was a good sign.

“And so, even though it’s hard, even though other people have it easier, you can still do it,” I said. “And you know what’s at stake and to not take anything for granted.”

One of the cowboys climbed onto the train and turned a wheel to apply the brakes. The crewmember jumped ahead and decoupled the braking wagon. 

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“He ended up starting a business. I forget what they do but he’s done well for himself.”

“And his mother?”

“She passed shortly before graduation, and never got to see her son finish.”

The train cleared the hill and started going down the other side. The horses were getting exhausted. 

“But he still did it. And you can do it, too,” I said. 

We watched as the train got away, the engineer looking out the window as the pursuers disappeared over the horizon. Emotional music was swelling. I expected a corny line or speech, but instead the credits started rolling. 

“Maybe,” she said. I looked down at her. She had turned to look up at me. 

“Definitely,” I said.