Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Twenty-Three

A long time ago...

Two companions found themselves in a diner tucked away on the end of some forgotten road. Neither remembered arriving there, but that wasn't unusual. Outside, a thin fog was rolling by in ambient waves, occasionally poking ghostly fingers through the ripped screen over the table. An ash tray on the end of the bar was emitting a thin ribbon of smoke, like incense, but no one was around.

Jack was drinking hot chocolate, swinging his legs back and forth to kick the aluminum pole under the table, while William picked at a piece of pie. It looked half eaten. Someone had eaten it. He rubbed a hand across the bridge of his nose massaging the soreness under his eyes. The cricket song was reaching a quiet finale outside as a faint glow announced the coming of morning. A few moths fluttered against the buzzing florescent lights overhead.

They hadn't spoken for most of the night, but William broke the silence. "Do you think what we're doing is important, Jack?" He nudged some crumbs around with his fork.

"No, but I don't think you need to feel bad about it. Nothing we could be doing is very important."

William looked up. "But, don't you think we're moving towards some purpose, some destiny? Sometimes I wonder if I'd have been better off staying at home."

Jack looked hurt. "You regret leaving?"

"No...no. Not really." William sighed. "It just seems like we have so much potential—you, especially. Don't you want to do anything with it?"

Jack shrugged. "I like being with you Will, I don't really care about anything else."

William looked out the window. Tall pines were growing on a hill across the road. He could see the end of a rubbish heap decaying next to it—the kind that usually forms next to an old barn. There was a shadow of a silo just visible in the dim light of the morning sun. "I'm sorry, Jack. I don't mean to be like that. I just wish we had some driving purpose. Something we could really work towards, you know? Something we could create."

Jack flinched and took an object from his pocket: the strange little device he'd gotten so long ago—or was it yesterday—at the trinket shop on the snowy road. At that moment it was whirring gently and Jack had an expectant look on his face.

"I think you should be more careful what you say, Will," he said, winding the knob on the bottom.

"Why, what's going on."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know exactly, but it seems to be preparing for something," he said.

"Preparing for what?"

Jack set the object down in front of him and stared at it with an anxious look in his eyes. Then, his face fell. "I think something terrible is going to happen. You shouldn't have said that Will! Oh, that was such a mistake!" Panic snuck into his voice. His whole body went rigid and goose bumps bloomed over his arms.

William's eyes went wide.

"Jack, I don't understand? What's going on?"

Jack shook his head again. "I don't know!" He started shivering. "It's a train! We can't get on the train! It'll change everything! We can't get on the train, Will!"

William grabbed Jack's hand. It was ice cold. "Okay, just calm down, Jack, we'll do whatever you say!"

Jack looked at him fiercely. "You promise?"

"Of course!" William felt savage eyes piercing him and recoiled slightly. There was blame in those eyes. William knew he was doing something wrong but he didn't understand.

"Jack, I always follow your lead. If you don't want to do something, we won't do it."

Jack stared at him a little longer, then seemed to deflate as he leaned back into his seat. "No, that's not how it works," he said slowly. "There's never been a lead. We're drifters, Will, wanderers. We don't control anything, and we're going to end up on the train. You want to more than you know, anyway."

William's face spasmed. "That's completely unfair, Jack! You can't blame me for a decision I haven't made."

"But you did make a decision, Will. Before tonight we were free; we could move freely and think freely. Now we have a purpose, and that's your fault for wanting it. All it takes to make something happen is possibility and desire, and both are there now."

The clockwork was vibrating on the table, its metal glowing red hot. Jack picked it up and pressed the button. It hissed, steam shooting out the top, and a sudden rumbling shook the lamp over their heads. Shadows flickered by the window. William looked outside and saw a train slowing down on the street, its doors open, revealing glimpses of the pine forest beyond.

Jack got up and walked out the door. William followed slowly, unsure what to do.

The rest of the town had vanished completely. The buildings nearby were gone. The diner was now in the middle of a forest, a rusty old train coming to a stop and emptying vapors all over their feet.

A whistle blew, then silence.

"Now what?" William asked.

Jack didn't say anything. He just sat down on the cracked sidewalk. William sat next to him, staring at the train.

"I think only one thing can happen now, Will," Jack said after a time, "but there is a choice. This is either the end or the beginning. If it's the end, we will stay here forever. If it's the beginning, we'll get on that train and our lives will be different."

William balanced his head on a fist and looked at Jack with a bemused face. "I don't like either option, try again."

Jack smiled in spite of himself. "Well, that's what happens next. You don't ever have to decide, though. That train will stay there until we get on it. Its only purpose is to pick us up."

William had never had a reason to doubt Jack, but he felt he was being impractical. There was a huge forest all around them. Their world had never had boundaries before, that just wasn't how things worked.

He got up and walked towards the back of the diner, picking his way around a dumpster and some old propane tanks. He tried to keep his bearings, focusing on the trees ahead of him, but somehow, without the slightest change in what he was seeing, the train was in front of him again when he made his way through.

William looked over at Jack, sitting by the big front window. When he turned around, he saw only trees.

It looked like Jack was right.