~For Loghan~

He couldn't remember.

How he got to the gate, why he had a suitcase with him, pretty much nothing after his mom went to the store and his sister went upstairs to wait for her friend – and do girly teenage stuff. Almost like when he woke up after surgery, groggy and confused and in a hospital room without memory of going there. It gave him a headache, trying to remember.

"Eddie."

Looking up from his shoes, he saw a woman approach from over the grass. She had a friendly smile on her face, warm like the sun on his skin; and short dark hair framing her round face. Dressed smartly, his mom would have said, in a light grey dress suite of tweed and black heels. A bright red cap sat atop her head.

"How long have you been standing here?" her voice was soft, laced with some kind of accent he couldn't place.

"I, I don't know. I don't really remember much of anything."

Her smile became softer still as she stopped beside him, resting her hands on his shoulders and looking him over. An expression passed over her eyes, a look that made his stomach shift almost uncomfortably, before she squared her own shoulders in determination.

"Right, well, come along then. We've got a stop to make before the train arrives, and we can't afford to miss it."

"Eddie! No no no no no no! Eddie! God no Eddie!" the wails broke the stillness of the neighborhood. She stooped above the small body, cradling his form as she shouted for her daughter to call 911. Over and over she rocked him, before somehow taking the phone and shooing the girls out and telling them to stay in the laundry room.

She couldn't let them see more than they already had.

The operator on the line was telling her the police were on there way, to stay on the line and try to administer CPR. She did as they instructed. But she knew – knew by the blood, by his eyes, that it was too late.

That he was gone.

"Where are we going?"

Really, he was incredibly polite, for an eleven-year-old from the inner city – it was really quite remarkable. She walked along side him down the path, through row upon row of headstones. The train tracks could be seen at the bottom of the hill, on the other side of the other gate by the station. If she listened closely, she could hear the old steamer's approach. They didn't have much time.

"You need to see something before we board the train."

At her mention of the train, he felt around in the pockets of his sweatshirt and basketball shorts, but came out with empty hands.

"But, I don't have a ticket."

She smiled again, appeared as if she wanted to laugh but restrained herself. Leading gently, she guided him down a specific row, before coming to a stop before a headstone. It stood out from the others; they were all worn down by the years of elements and neglect. This one seemed new.

"You don't need a ticket for this train, Eddie. It knows when to take you." With that she turned him to face the grave, and he what he read startled him.

Edward Miles Moser

October 30, 2017- November 24, 2028

Forever Loved, Forever Missed

"Criminey."

He was quiet for a while, but she waited. Everyone processed this differently. She watched as he took a few shuddering breaths, and reached down to touch his name but stopped just short of contact.

"Am I, am I dead?"

She nodded, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he turned to look at her.

"But Jilly, and Dad. And Mom." Tears welled within in eyes, and she had to fight to stay composed as well. Tenderly she lifted her hand and rubbed at the side of his face, wiping away the blood that had appeared at his temple.

"Yes, dear. They, and all your family and friends that knew and love you are mourning, and will mourn you the rest of their lives. But they are still alive, and you have a train to catch. It'll only stop a minute, and we can't let it leave you here."

The church had been packed, and she was a wreck. Jillian and Arnold were to the right of her, Olga and her parents on her left, and she couldn't stop crying, even as she laughed at the stories and the pictures. Her beautiful, smiling, happy, funny, wonderful little boy. And he was gone.

It was raining outside, and she shouldn't have been surprised because how could even nature be happy and sunny? Her son, her little boy was dead.

Her family and friends had rallied around her, around them. They took care of the cleaning crew, replaced carpeting and painted the walls. They cleaned and delivered food and set up fundraisers and donations and kept her busy.

Or at least they tried.

She could still smell that day, still see him at night when she closed her eyes.

She couldn't go back into the bedroom, not for more then ten minutes anyway. And she couldn't go back into that closet.

Another sob wracked her body as she gripped her sister's hand and her husband's knee more tightly.

They had left the graveyard, and were seated quietly on the bench at the station. He could see the train approaching from the distance, a billow of smoke coming up from the black transport like breath in the cold. He leaned back against the bench, and tapped the suitcase back and forth with his foot.

"Can't I wait here for them?" his voice seemed small, and she felt sad for him again.

"No my dear, if the train leaves you here, you'll miss them when they come through in their time. Death doesn't end your journey, just changes the course a bit. But so long as you ride the train, you'll be able to wait for them at the end of the path."

He heaved a sigh, and knocked the case fully over with his foot. Trying to look like it was on purpose, he tried to toe it back up with just the one foot. When all he succeeded in doing was push it around on the stone, she laughed, and it echoed through the empty station. It reminded him of his mom's laugh, which made him feel better.

The roar of the old steam engine soon swallowed it though, and as it slowed to a halt before the bench the woman rose and picked his suitcase up off the ground. He stood, ready to make his way on board, but she stopped him.

"Now Eddie, this journey, well, where we are going you can't come back from."

He paused as well, looking over her shoulder into the sunny unknown.

"Is there any way I can come back to life if I don't get on?"

Slowly she shook her head, and he finally met her gaze with a crooked smile.

"Then what else am I going to do?"

She smiled with a shake of her head, as if he passed some unspoken test. Ushering him up the steps and through the door, they walked down the aisle until he found a seat he liked and plopped down in front of the window. She stowed the case in the compartment above their heads before sitting next to him, pulling out a book.

Slowly, and with a whistle, the train pulled out of the station.

They were learning how to be a family of three again. Every time Helga looked at his picture she cried, but the days were getting more ok. Though she hadn't had a good day yet, and thought it would be a long time before she had one again.

Jillian at first stayed within her room, but a few weeks later her friends were able to coax her out, and laughter was back in the house. It was a welcomed sound.

Arnold, after several family meetings, had started hunting for a new house. It was raw to think that the home his son felt so happy and safe in, caused nothing but pain for them now.

The detectives had confirmed what they already knew – it was an accident. Just a curious boy who thought he knew what he was doing and made a fatal, tragic mistake.

Birthdays were celebrated, school years started and ended and started again. Boys came over to be met during dinner. Friends were made and lost.

It took time, but slowly they adjusted to the new way of life.

This new normal.

He watched as the landscape rushed by outside his window – the rolling green hills with clusters of wildflowers, the backdrop of a bright blue sky and soft, fluffy white clouds. He thought about his parents and sister, and an overwhelming feeling of sorrow welled up within him. He hoped they weren't mad at him – he knew they were probably sad, which made him feel even worse. He tried to focus on the happy memories he had, and to remember that he would see them again. That's what the woman had said, she seemed like a nice enough lady and he trusted her. So he let his mind wander through the good times, and around what it would be like when they got to wherever it was the train was heading.

Though he was still lonely and sad and missed his family and just wanted to see them and hug them again. But he couldn't.

Quietly, tears began to roll down his cheeks, yet he didn't wipe them away. He just let them fall as he watched the scenery rushing by his window.

Beside him a soft warm hand took his in comfort, and squeezed.