Bob entered Missy’s cabin and found her packing a suitcase.
This was unusual for several reasons.
First, Missy rarely packed. She preferred to place several unrelated objects into a bag and trust that necessity would eventually explain the arrangement.
Second, the suitcase was already open.
Inside it were two books, one stocking, a folded shirt, and an apricot-colored scarf. A teaspoon lay on the bed beside it, apparently rejected at the final stage of consideration.
Bob sat in the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
Missy looked up.
“I need the ocean.”
Bob waited.
He had learned that Missy’s answers occasionally arrived in sections.
“I’ve been having strange dreams on the train,” she continued. “It might be the vibration.”
“The vibration?”
“Yes. Too much railway beneath the subconscious.”
Bob glanced at the suitcase.
“And the teaspoon?”
“Unrelated.”
“Of course.”
Missy folded the scarf and placed it inside.
“I thought I might jump off at Ocean City.”
Bob’s ears lifted.
“Jump off?”
“Not while the train is moving.”
“Good.”
“Unless it slows down dramatically.”
“Less good.”
Missy tried to close the suitcase, discovered that the books were preventing it, and opened it again.
Bob watched her rearrange everything into nearly the same position.
“Can I come?”
She paused.
“You want to come to Ocean City?”
“I’ve been hearing Triangle’s voice,” Bob said. “I need fresh air.”
Missy stared at him.
“You’ve heard it too?”
Bob nodded.
“What did it say?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Was it threatening?”
“No.”
“Philosophical?”
“Possibly.”
“Did it speak Spoonish?”
Bob considered this seriously.
“There were pauses.”
Missy laughed.
The sound softened something in the cabin. Even the train seemed to loosen its grip upon the rails.
“Fine,” she said. “You may come.”
Bob stepped inside.
Missy removed the teaspoon from the bed, reconsidered it, and slipped it into the suitcase.
“For emergencies,” she explained.
Neither of them knew what kind of emergency required a teaspoon.
This appeared to improve its chances of being useful.
The train began to slow.
Beyond the window, the first pale dunes appeared beneath a gray morning sky. Past them, the ocean waited.
Missy closed the suitcase.
Bob stood beside her at the cabin door.
Together, they stepped into the corridor.
Continue the journey
Enjoying The Train to Elsewhere?
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