Jude stood in the parking lot of Santa Clara station holding a picture of Beth. It was the one where she was smiling for a change. Her short blonde hair was windblown into her eyes and she was squinting into the sun. The same way he squinted when he stepped off the train. A mid-afternoon sun beamed bright in the sky. He’d thrown a hand up to shield his face as he slung the army green bag, that was filled with all the clothes he owned, over his shoulder.
 

Inside the building there was a model train museum. Most of which were in glass enclosures with signs that said, “Do Not Touch. Please and Thank you.” Jude had maybe an hour to kill, so he stared at the tiny model trains and the tiny model towns they inhabited. A group of tourists nearby snapped pictures with their phones. One of the kids in the tourist group, a boy of maybe seven, was smacking his pudgy little hands against the glass.  Jude checked his watch. Fifty-five minutes to go.

 

He grabbed a can of soda from the vending machine outside the doorway to the museum and decided he’d much rather wait in the parking lot. The warm sun felt good on his face, and he stuck a hand in the front pocket of his jeans as he took a pull on the can of soda. It was Saturday, and the weather was mild and the parking lot was starting to fill with people taking the train north toward the city. He watched a group of teenage girls giggling as they fumbled in their bags for something that was supposed to cause great hilarity.
 

The photo of Beth had been inside his bag where you’d slide a card to identify the bag as your own. He honestly didn’t remember putting it there, but alas there it was. Jude had just placed it back when a maroon pickup swerved to a stop in front of him. The driver’s side door flew open, and a tall, boney woman with an angular face gave him a smile over the hood of the pickup.
 

“You know I drove past you,” she said. “Barely recognized you, little brother.”
 

Jude smiled as his older sister came around the side of the truck. She wrapped him up in her long arms. 
 

“It’s good to see you, Marty.”
 

“It’s been a long time.”
 

“Yeah. It has,” Jude said softly.
 

“You were a boy last time I saw you.”
 

She pulled away for a moment, studied his face and the loss of recognition there give him a sad pinch in his gut. Marty gestured with her head toward her truck and they left Santa Clara station behind.

 

***

 

“What do you think you might do?” Marty asked as they drove east through Campbell. She had her elbow propped on the door and was fussing with the messy ponytail on her head.
 

“Haven’t thought about it,” Jude replied.

That was a lie. Jude had done plenty of thinking. He thought about Beth and the look on her face when she opened the door to him at two in the morning. His stomach bleeding onto the carpet of her living room. Him telling her how wrong everything was.
 

“By the way,” he said, “thanks for giving me the couch for a few nights.”
 

“Work is gonna be scarce,” Marty said. She’d grown tired of the ponytail. “I’m just thankful Dan’s got what he’s got going.”
 

He nodded. Dan had been around since Jude was a kid. His sister, ten years older than Jude, had met Dan in high school. The relationship was volatile from the beginning. Things hadn’t gotten better after they got married, and they got even worse when Marty had a miscarriage with their first child.
 

“When’s he going to be back?” Jude asked.
 

“Couple days. They never send him out for long.”
 

“I’ll try to be gone before he gets back.”
 

“Don’t worry about. He never had issue with you.”
 

Jude pulled down the visor above his head to shield the sunlight. He tried to think about the last time he saw Dan. It’d been almost six years now. 
 

“Probably better if I’m gone.” Jude said.

 

***

 

Marty lived in an old ranch style house with a small front yard and an even smaller backyard that was cordoned off with a metal fence separating her neighbor's backyard. The inside of the house smelled stale like old wood and old furniture. Marty headed toward the kitchen in the rear of the house.
 

“Get you a beer?” she called back.
 

“Water is fine,” Jude said.
 

He stepped into the living room and dropped his bag. There was a feeling that came over him, he’d felt it on the train as well, it was hard to pin down. The spell was brief, but it made him feel like he was watching life through another set of eyes then his own. Maybe it was the surroundings. He hadn’t stepped foot in this house since before his mother passed.
 

“Hey,” Marty said, and passed him a plastic cup with a faded 49ers logo on it. Marty had grabbed a Michelob.  Jude looked around the room for a second, sensing a quiet to the house.
 

“Where’s Oscar?”
 

Marty put her gaze to the floor, then took a swig off the beer. “Dan’s mother’s house. It’s not too far from here. It’s ... it’s probably the best thing right now.”
 

“Oh.”
 

“Yeah, you know the story of Dan and I. I don’t have to bullshit you. Well, let’s just say the current chapter looks a lot like the last few.”
 

Jude nodded. Took a small sip of water.
 

“It’s still strange to look at you,” Marty said as she stuck a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “Little Jude is a man now.”
 

“I suppose I am.”
 

“Did you ever think you’d be back here?”
 

“Tried not to be.”
 

“Yet, here you are.” She took another sip of her beer. “Look Jude, just cause I’m stuck in the same cycle doesn’t mean you have to be.”
 

“I’m not planning on it, I --”
 

“Rusty called before I went to get you. He knows you’re back.”
 

“Good for Rusty.”
 

Marty stuck her foot out and gave Jude’s bag a little kick with her shoe.
 

“I saw the picture of Beth you got on there.”
 

“So?” asked Jude.
 

“Just tell me you didn’t come back here to avenge a dead girl.”