Outside the train, Arnold Beckman, Charlie’s father, nicely dressed, pushed through the crowd behind the fence. Arnold didn’t even let Charlie walk home from school by himself, and here he was, letting him go to England alone. Evelyn Beckman, a thin woman with a kind face, held on tightly to Arnold’s arm.
Suddenly, Arnold’s agony burst through his contorted face. “No!” he yelled. He shook loose of Evelyn’s loving restraint, jumped over the fence, and ran toward the train.
“Arnold, don’t!” Evelyn called to her grief-stricken husband.
Arnold ran up to Charlie’s window as if desperate for one final goodbye, but instead he reached into the window and grabbed his little boy’s hands. Charlie stared wide-eyed at his crazed father. “Papa!”
“My son, I can’t live without you!” With an anguished cry, Arnold pulled little Charlie through the train window and hugged him tightly to his chest.
Evelyn pushed through the crowd, but she was restrained at the fence. “No! No!”
The police pushed Arnold and Charlie away from the train, and Evelyn pointed helplessly to the train, sobbing uncontrollably.
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