Frozen In Time Part I
Layton wasn't sure exactly how he forgot where they were in regards to Snowpiecer's journey around the globe. All he could chalk it up to was days of endless meetings and complaints that only seemed to have intensified over the past few days. But as he stepped into the cabin he shared with his first engineer, it came virtually rushing back at him like the train they were in that currently housed the scant remnants of the human race for the past seven years.
Standing at the window that was their main glass portal to the world outside, Melanie stood as still as a stone statue, staring intently out at the frozen landscape as it went by in a scene of seemingly endless, flat white plains that used to be the main, vital farmlands of the American Northwest.
To the casual observer, there wasn't much about the area they were going through that would draw anyone's attention for more than a few minutes at best. But he was willing to bet that Melanie had been standing at that window for at least the past hour, watching intently for what she knew was coming.
He had been witness to her three times yearly vigil only once in all the past months they had shared the cabin. And the only reason he had missed it the first time was because he didn't know about it. And it certainly wasn't something she announced to anyone. To her it was a very private, very personal pain. Something she felt only she could understand. But it had only taken the one time he had witnessed it for him to be glad he caught her during this time in their global journey.
He wasn't sure if anything he had experienced because of the freeze even came close to her pain. He had accepted his own losses years ago, and to some the two occurrences may have seem closely related. But somehow, it still wasn't the same to him.
When he had entered the cabin initially, he wasn't even aware at first she was there. Exhausted from his own day, he had put his back to the door as soon as it closed, and let out a long, slow exhale, hoping to disperse just a little of the day's tension with it. From the silence in the cabin around him, and from the lack of any comment or greeting when he first came thought the door, he had assumed she wasn't even there. But when he opened his eyes he was surprised to see her standing at the window, as still as the frozen landscape that passed by outside.
With a silent sigh, his exhausted brain catching up with the significance of their current location for her, he walked as quietly as he could over to the table in the center of the room and laid what he had carried around with him that day in the form of notebooks and loose papers down on the table top. Walking over to her, he gently laid his hands over her shoulders. An act that at one time had made her nearly jump right out of her skin. She simply had a high aversion to being touched for the most part. But over the past months they had lived together, she had gotten more used to his 'constant need for tactile contact', as she called it.
But tonight she hardly acknowledged his contact as he stood behind her. And he didn't need to ask her what was wrong. He already knew. Bennett had actual been the one to let him in on the ritual. He said it was because he may encounter it with them sharing the cabin, and it was likely better if he just knew and didn't press her with too many questions about it. And he had tried to think of ways to help her through it, just as she tried to help him with issues that arose running the train. He tried to remember the date Bennett had told him they would be making the pass. He had planned to try to keep her out of the cabin that day. To distract her. Take her to dinner in the market at a favorite eating spot. Anything so that she just didn't latch on to where they were. To forget the painful memory the significance of the passing brought with it for her.
But he should have known how futile any such effort would be. Bennett had said it was like a beacon to her. Calling out to her days before they even arrived. And he resolved himself to simply offer whatever form of help she would accept to get her through it this time. To let her know for once she didn't have to face it alone.
"Hey." He said softly, tugging gently on her shoulders in a beginning attempt to get her away from the window. "It's been a long day for both of us. How bout we get something to eat?"
Melanie's gaze remained fixed on the window. In the reflection he could see the pain in her eyes as a track of tears traced identical paths down her cheeks. A slow shake of her head answered him.
Layton gave a quiet sigh as he leaned closer to her. "Look, I know it doesn't make all the pain go away," he said softly, "but Alex is on the train at least. Try to focus on that. At least you have her and she's safe."
The response she gave him was so dismal and pain-filled Layton swore he could feel it dragging him into the darkness that bred it. Her own self assigned guilt and failure.
"They're out there still." She barely whispered. She already knew he understood the significance the day held for her. Bennett had told her he had let Layton in on that piece of information so she wouldn't have to, just in case he found her once just as she was today. Standing at a window, lock away in her memories. "In a few minutes we'll go right past the exact spot." She paused for a moment. Just long enough to wipe back a tear, "I always swear I can see the house." She stated finally. "Frozen in time. Knowing they're there as well. Bennett says I'm imaging it. That the house is too far away."
He knew how Bennett felt about her ritual. He had explained it to Layton in his ever present logical manner.
"She's locked in the past with this one." He had explained to Layton. "It's like a trap she willingly allows herself to be caught in. She doesn't even try to break free of it. It's like every time we pass by, three times a year, she personally punishes herself for something she had no way of controlling. The decision wasn't her's. But she can't stop blaming herself for it."
With his hands resting on her shoulders still, Layton tried once more to gently tug on them to get her away from the window. But meeting with the same resistance, he gave a quiet sigh as he leaned a little closer to her. "Alex tried to get them to leave, Melanie." Layton gently reminded her. "She told you the story. They simply wouldn't leave their home." Layton paused, trying to think of something to say to her that didn't cause her more pain. "They made the choice they were at peace with. They sent Alex to you. But they had already made the decision to not come with her when the people you sent to get everyone showed up at the farm. And they knew how you would feel about that choice, so they simply never told you."
Melanie gave a slight nod, brushing back another tear.
Suddenly she stepped forward, causing Layton to release his hold on her shoulders as her hand reached out to the double paned glass. Laying her fingers gently on the window, she stared intently out at the frozen wasteland.
Cautiously, Layton joined her, standing steadfastly at her side as she fixed her gaze on the flat horizon.
"There." She whispered, her breath barely causing the glass to fog slightly as she stared intently at the horizon. "There it is. I can see the roof."
In the distance Layton swore he could see a slight rise on the otherwise utterly flat horizon. Even though Bennett had told him her parents homestead was nowhere near the tracks and would not be visible from the train, Melanie still insisted she could pinpoint the exact location every time they passed by it simply by that small bump in the snow covered terrain.
Layton stayed beside her as the train ate up the tracks beneath them, taking them ever further from the sad memory. He waited until he was sure they were too far away finally to see the reminder any longer before he risk trying to ease her carefully back from where she stood now against the window, her face turned to the side as she tried to stare behind the train for as long as she could to catch the last glimpse of her parents farm. He wasn't sure how he would get her mind off of the event, only that he had to try.
But suddenly an idea came to him. Maybe distracting her wasn't the way to go this time. Something had change since their last passing. Something significant. Maybe he could get her thinking in that direction instead.
"Why don't we go to the engine for a while?" He asked, making it seemed like an off handed suggestion.
Barely even acknowledging him, Melanie turned to the floor, shaking her head.
"I would rather just stay here." She replied softly. "I think...maybe I'll just go to bed."
But Layton stopped her from heading to the bedroom, gently turning her around to face him.
"I know that curling up under the covers and escaping the pain seems like the best course of action right now. Mostly because it's worked so well in the past." He told her, keeping her gaze fixed on him so he knew she was really listening to him instead of retreating into herself. She had to face the new reality of her life now. "But this time you don't have that luxury."
Melanie gave him a slightly questioning stare. "This time? What makes thi..."
"What makes this time different," Layton cut her off gently, still holding her gaze, "is you're not in this pain alone anymore." He reminded her.
Melanie kept her eyes on him as understanding began to slowly seep into her thoughts.
"She's as smart as her mother, Melanie. You think she doesn't know the significance of where we are the same as you?"
Melanie closed her eyes as guilt replaced the pain. How could she not have thought of her daughter at this time. Of what she must be feeling.
Layton wasn't about to let her sink into that new feeling as he leaned down to her level.
"How about we go to the engine?" He suggested again. "Because I'm willing to bet that after all these years alone, it would a lot easier on her facing it with someone who understood what she's feeling."
But Melanie froze again, her stare never wavering one inch from his.
"She won't want me there." she replied in the same soft whisper.
"Why not?"
"She barely thinks of me as a friend let alone as her mother, Layton. And Alex was very close to her grandparents. She probably blames me for what happened to them."
"You honestly think she believes you wanted to leave your own parents, the only family you ever had, to die, without trying to save them? And her?"
"I know what Wilford told her about..."
"And she's already said she doesn't believe his story."
Melanie finally broke contact with his stare as she turned to the side. She wanted to believe so desperately that there was some way she could get through the anger and hurt her daughter had suffered under Wilford.
"Would you rather she sits up in the forward engine and thinks her mother honestly doesn't care?" Layton asked.
"And what makes you so sure she would?" Melanie pushed back. "She hardly knows me, Layton. What makes you think for one minute she would want me to intrude on something this personal to her?"
Layton turned her back to him. "Because you're her mother. You have an opportunity to show her you DO care." He stated. "DO NOT pass it up."
This time Melanie wretched herself out of his grip as she turned steadfastedly back to the window. "She doesn't want me there!"
Layton sighed quietly as he watched her. He could see the wall coming up as easy as though it were a physical structure she was raising to protect herself.
"Do you remember when we first started sharing the cabin?" He said in a quiet voice, forcing her to concentrate to hear each word.
"Yes." Came the equally soft reply.
Layton stepped up behind her and carefully laid his hands on her shoulders once more as he leaned in a little closer to her. "I never told you before, but...even though we weren't close back then, whenever I faced something new, something I wasn't sure of, or I just plain doubted myself..., it helped just knowing you were there. Knowing that you had gone through the same things. It helped knowing that there was at least one other person on this train who understood. Who I could talk to. Because I knew they would understand." Layton paused as he watched his words slowly take hold. "She wasn't my friend then." He softly added. "But she was someone to talk to. And through that one small connection, we became friends."
Melanie stood as still as stone for several minutes. He knew her well enough to know this signaled she had heard him and now she was running his words through that analytical mind of her's, looking for any fault in them.
"Alex isn't ready for this yet."
"But are you ready to let this opportunity slip away from you. To reach out to your own child and offer her comfort? Your not afraid she's not ready. I think you're afraid of her rejecting you again. Stop running away from her, Melanie. Reach out to her."
Melanie stiffened slightly in his hold. "To get my hand slapped again?
Layton didn't back off. He needed to get her to see this opportunity for what it as. A chance for her to connect with her child. For them to start to get to know each other again. To show her that her mother wasn't the person she had been led to believe. To break WIlford's hold on her. "Yes. And let her slap it as many time as she needs to. Because each time is a test for her to see if you'll come back one more time."
Melanie slowly turned back to him. In her eyes he could see how much she wanted to believe him. He just had to keep feeding that need until it took root in her mind.
"Maybe this will be that time she doesn't slap that hand reaching out to her." He told her with a small, encouraging smile. "Are you willing to take the risk of missing it?"
A hopeful but equally frightened voice answered him. "And if she slaps it again? Or worse, just ignores it?"
The smile remained. "Then you hold it out even longer the next time."
His smile finally got one in return, no matter how small. "How did you get so good at raising children, Mr. Layton?"
"Because my parents worked long hours to put food on the table, and so raising the younger kids often fell to the oldest; me." He answered her. "Now lets go see Alexandra."