"Cripes!" cried Greg. "Hey, they've dug up our Grandpa!"
"Well, you've dug him in," retorted Charlie Acorn. "If you absolutely have to throw accusations around."
The brothers looked at each other, and Greg shrugged as if to say that the man would probably know better. Without further questions he jumped down from the wall and lumbered towards the railway, ankle-deep in the wet sticky snow. Wirt followed suit, with suspicion, disbelief and relief still battling inside him.
The lion with the cigarette glared at Greg as he approached the draisine, and left his post at the hand pump, joining his kin on the opposite side. Charlie waved for the brothers to climb on.
"The passengers on this here engine, unless dead or musically gifted, are all required to help," he announced.
"I can play clarinet," offered Wirt, staring at the pump handle doubtfully.
Charlie turned back to look at him sharply with his eye pennies.
"And do you happen to have a clarinet on you, smart-pants?"
"Well, no, but…"
"The pump it is, then."
He didn't seem entirely unfriendly, but Wirt deduced that arguing with Mr. Acorn was a rather ungrateful task. The lions gave him an understanding look, and the one without the prospect of lung cancer hanging above him even winked playfully. Wirt stood behind his brother and gingerly grabbed the handle, to which Greg's mittened little fists already clung. The draisine started off.
"Are you sure some train won't ram us from behind?" enquired Wirt after it had reached its top speed, which was surprisingly good for such a decrepit engine.
"Oh, there are no trains going down this railway as far as I know."
"I'm pretty sure there are," said Wirt stubbornly.
"Then you have my permission to worry about them trains for all I care," shrugged Charlie. "Hey, little one, is he always like that?"
"Could be way worse," replied Greg magnanimously, which earned him a light-hearted cuff on the nape. He seemed a lot more jovial than usual, and that alone was worth climbing on this draisine, in his older brother's books.
"Where are you taking our Grandpa, though?" Greg wanted to know. "Seriously, we went through all the mess with the funeral, and now you're coming and taking him some place else. Not very nice of you, if you know what I mean."
"Ah, but you don't really want him to stay there, do you? There might be further journeys down the road for him, and I'd say he's bound to miss them if you trap him in that wooden box of yours. There might be none, of course," Charlie went on, the tone of his voice indicating that he wasn't just entertaining unlikely possibilities, "or there might be something else entirely. I just drive this here old engine, though, it is not my place to know much else."
Speaking of places, Wirt didn't recognise much of the surroundings when he looked around. They gave an impression of being "proper" and "usual", but that was merely good impersonation on their part. Familiar landmarks popped up here and there, but, he decided, they only served to help the perception get used to a new reality which actually had nothing to do with the rural area south of their hometown. He felt excited, and rushing wind felt colder against his flushed cheeks.
"So why are you two seeking the Unknown?" asked Charlie.
"Who wouldn't be?" shrugged Greg. "I mean, have you ever felt like someone took all the colours from all the places in the world? Well, me and Wirt and Jason Funderburker came back there", he pointed behind his back, "from there", he pointed forward, "and it was just like that. Everything seemed dull. And empty. And like someone took some important bit out of you and never returned. I wanted to scream at things and kick stuff just because, you know," he added quietly, and Wirt was surprised to discover his brother describing his own condition so perfectly.
"I could see something when I picked you up," said Charlie, nodding slowly. "You stood out, I guess."
"Sat out," giggled Greg. "Get it? We sat out on that wall. Get it?" he asked the lions, too, but they didn't seem to get it or at least acknowledge they did.
"And you, the other one?" asked Charlie. "Aren't you too old to chase unicorns instead of getting on with your life?"
"So what if I'm too old?" Wirt immediately took the defensive stance. That was exactly the sort of question he was too scared to ask himself. Did he really have any right to lead his brother on this mad journey to a strange place they had last seen while nearly dying? Will the time stay still again, or will their parents have to cope with them being absent for days? Will he force Gregory to return if his little brother refuses to go back – and will Wirt himself want to come back if they finds the Unknown again? "So what if I'm irresponsible that way or refuse to play by the rules? I don't care for that world. Greg is falling apart there. I am falling apart. Who's to decide if we are allowed to go or not when nobody else even believes in the Unknown?"
"Hey, hey, calm down a bit," said Charlie Acorn. "Don't get all worked up. Sheesh! You ask him a question – he gives you three you can't answer…"
"Sorry," muttered Wirt.
"I'm not your dad, nor am I the one to say what your dad will think…"
"He has two dads, actually!" interrupted Greg, who had always been, to Wirt's dismay, strangely jealous of the fact.
"Doesn't matter, I suppose, as long as they're not chthonic… What I mean is, you have to be yourselves if you can, and try not to listen to people saying otherwise. You live one life, or several of them, or none at all, but each of them belongs to you, so if your heart calls you to one place and someone traps your body in another, it's pretty clear what you should listen to."
This point of view seemed sensible to Wirt. He even felt relieved that an adult – a very, very old adult, he suspected, one to whom there was definitely more than met the eye – understood what he was experiencing. There was a definite lack of understanding adults in his life back in the real world.
"Oh, and stop rolling up your eyes so often", added Charlie, even though during all the journey he barely turned to look at Wirt. "Just see what it's done to me. Here, take a spare."
Still without turning, he found something in his breast pocket and threw it over his shoulder towards Wirt. Wirt's reflexes were quite rusty and, by his calculations, he definitely wasted enough time for the glimmering object to fly above his head, fall in the snow and perhaps have a cup of tea, and yet when he finally threw his hand up, his fingers locked around it nevertheless. It turned out to be a silver penny just like the one Charlie Acorn kept in his eye.
"Can I have some money, too?" frowned Greg.
"Won't need any," replied Charlie, which, judging by his meaningful cough, Greg found decidedly unlikely, but the topic was not pressed.
They travelled down the railway, which had recently climbed on top of a narrow hill. Charlie was trying to compose a new song and tested various harmonica parts, clearly disappointed with every one of them. After one particularly grating solo he sighed, put the instrument away and looked around, sizing up the tall pine trees that started to dominate the scenery.
"We seem to have reached your destination," he proclaimed. "Prepare to land!"
"All I see is a forest," said Wirt cautiously. "What do you me…"
"It's the Unknown we're talking about," interrupted Charlie. "Did you really expect a railway station?"
With that he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. The lions left the pump handle alone, stepped towards the brothers and picked them up under the armpits.
"Er, you know, I am not at all sure it's…" stammered Wirt, feeling his feet leave the ground and jerking them wildly.
He wasn't allowed to elaborate as his lion easily threw him to the left of the moving draisine. The last thing Wirt saw before flying headfirst towards the dark pine trees was the other lion hurling his younger brother to the opposite side, which Greg, to his credit, met with an excited, "Whe-e-e-e!"
He hit the ground hard and found himself rolling down the slope, swallowing some snow from time to time and coming to the conclusion that Mr. Charlie Acorn could hardly boast any customer service skills.