Love, Death and Robots. Volumes 2 & 3

I climbed down the steps and looked along the rail. There was no one at first, and then there was a light swinging its way toward me, and finally a shadowy shape behind the light. In a moment I saw that it was a rail man, dressed in cap and coat and company trousers.

“You best stay on board, sir,” he said.

I could see him clearly now. He was an average looking man, small in size with an odd walk about him; the sort people who practically live on trains acquire, as do sailors on ships at sea.

“I was just curious,” I said. “What has happened?”

“A brief stop,” he said. “I suggest you go back inside.”

“Is no one else awake?” I said.

“You seem to be it, sir,” he said. “I find those that go to sleep before twelve stay that way when this happens.”

I thought that a curious answer. I said, “Does it happen often?”

“No. Not really.”

“What’s wrong? Are there repairs going on?”

“We are building up another head of steam,” he said.

“Then surely I have time to step out here and have a smoke in the open air,” I said.

“I suppose that’s true, sir,” he said. “But I wouldn’t wander far. Once we’re ready to go, we’ll go. I’ll call for you to get on board, but only a few times, and then we’ll go, no matter what. We won’t tarry, not here. Not between midnight and two.”

And then he went on by me swinging the light.

I was intrigued by what he had said, about not tarrying. I looked out at the waving grass and the lights, which I now realized were not that far away. I took out my makings and rolled a cigarette and put a match to it and puffed.

I can’t really explain what possessed me. The oddness of the moment, I suppose. But I decided it would be interesting to walk out in the tall grass, just to measure its height, and to maybe get a closer look at those lights. I strolled out a ways, and within moments I was deep in the grass. As I walked, the earth sloped downwards and the grass whispered in the wind. When I stopped walking, the grass was over my head, and behind me where the ground was higher, the grass stood tall against the moonlight, like rows of spear heads held high by an army of warriors.

I stood there in the midst of the grass and smoked and listened for activity back at the train, but neither heard the lantern man or the sound of the train getting ready to leave. I relaxed a bit, enjoying the cool, night wind and the way it moved through the prairie. I decided to stroll about while I smoked, parting the grass as I went. I could see the lights still, but they always seemed to be farther away than I thought, and my moving in their direction didn’t seem to bring me closer; they receded like the horizon.

When I finished my cigarette, I dropped it and put my heel to it, grinding it into the ground, and turned to go back to the train.

I was a bit startled to discover I couldn’t find the path I had taken. Surely, the grass had been bent or pushed aside by my passing, but there was no sign of it. It had quickly sprung back into shape. I couldn’t find the rise I had come down. The position of the moon was impossible to locate, even though there was plenty of moonlight; the moon had gone away and left its light there.

Gradually I became concerned. I had somehow gotten turned about, and the train would soon be leaving, and I had been warned that no one would wait for me. I thought perhaps it was best if I ceased thrashing about through the grass, and just stopped, least I become more confused. I concluded that I couldn’t have gone too far from the railway, and that I should be able to hear the train man should he call out for All Aboard.

So, there I was, standing in tall grass like a fool. Lost from the train and listening intently for the man to call out. I kept glancing about to try and see if I could find a path back the way I came. As I said before, it stood to reason that I had tromped down some grass, and that I couldn’t be that far away. It was also, as I said, a very well-lit night, plenty of moonlight. It rested like swipes of cream cheese on the tall grass, so it was inconceivable to me that I had gotten lost in such a short time walking such a short distance. I also considered those lights as bearings, but they had moved, fluttering about like will-o-the-wisps, so using them as markers was impossible.

I was lost, and I began to entertain the disturbing thought that I might miss the train and be left where I was. It would be bad enough to miss the train, but here, out in the emptiness of nowhere, if I wasn’t missed, or no one came back this way for a time, I might actually starve, or be devoured by wild animals, or die of exposure.

That’s when I heard someone coming through the grass. They weren’t right on top of me, but they were close, and of course, my first thought was it was the man from the train come to look for me. I started to call out, but hesitated.

I can’t entirely explain the hesitation, but there was a part of me that felt reluctant, and so instead of calling out, I waited. The noise grew louder.