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The Golden Spike
Emily had never seen so many grown-ups in one place. There must have been thousands of people! They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder all the way down the railroad tracks, and the crowd must have been at least 50 people deep. It was as if every person in Box Elder County had shown up and brought three friends, and a horse to boot.
Emily's family and her friend Jeb's family had made the two-hour trip to Promontory in order to witness a national event. For the past six years—half of Emily's life—a new railroad line that would connect the entire country had been under construction. After building 1,800 miles of track, there was only one last spike to drive into one last piece of wood.
What excited Emily about this project was the tremendous difference it would make for travelers. She knew that yesterday, a trip from New York City to San Francisco would have taken six months. But starting today, with the new railroad, it would take only one week! Travel couldn't possibly get any faster than that, Emily figured. Railroads were truly the transportation of the future.
Grabbing Jeb's coverall strap, Emily followed him as they wove their way through a forest of dusty pants and dirty boots. She could barely see Jeb at all. Only the steady tug coming from the other end of the strap and his excited shouting told her he was there.
Several mouthfuls of dirty coattails and a few disapproving looks later, Emily and Jeb emerged at the edge of the tracks. Emily's heart leapt. “Wow!” was all she could say. Two beautiful locomotives, one pointing west and one pointing east, were stopped just a few feet from each other. Emily wished she could buy a ticket and hop on board that very moment.
Three men stood between the trains, at the center of everyone's attention. Emily knew by their clean, fancy clothing that they weren't from around here. And unless work clothes were different where they lived, they didn't look much accustomed to hard work. The man in the middle was struggling to raise a big sledgehammer above his head.
Jeb hollered, “This is it!” Emily took in a breath and watched as the man swung—and missed. The hammer clanged loudly on the metal rail instead.
The crowd let out a collective, “Awwwww.” A few men laughed. One of the train engineers blew his steam whistle. Despite sweating in the heat, the audience was having a good time.
The man mopped his brow with a handkerchief and gave it another swing. That time, he hit the spike straight on, and it sunk into place. As the crowd cheered, Emily's thoughts wandered. She was imagining herself traveling quickly to someplace far, far away.
In “The Golden Spike,” one way in which the man with the sledgehammer is different from the crowd is that the man.
A is sweating.
B is rich.
C doesn't have a job.
D has clean clothes.
