The Oak Hotel - Watty Awards 2013 Finalist

Chapter Twenty-one - Trokamano Orchard

Chapter Twenty-one

Trokamano Orchard

Over and over, the unceasing sound of train wheels on tracks ticked away the unbearable slip and passage of time. Kayleigh sat beside Rylyn, holding her hand while Lincoln (opposite them) impatiently watched the forest pass by in a steady, green blur.

There were other passengers in their car. An older woman dressed in purple sat near the exit door, her stubby fingers worrying over the bright, purple beads of her necklace. Two younger women sat a few seats behind them, reading from a shared book. A middle-aged man with dark hair (dressed as Sheenie Tosh had been dressed when Lincoln first met her, hooded cloak and all) was seated silently in the rear. Lincoln glanced at the darkly dressed man occasionally, but the stranger’s eyes were locked on some point beyond the walls of the train.

Kayleigh had tried, without success, to ask questions, but finally gave up. Each time she spoke, Rylyn grew more upset and could barely speak. The girl sat there now, eyes closed, taking slow breaths.

“How far back do you think we came?” Lincoln asked.

Kayleigh looked over at him and sighed. “I’m not sure. Didn’t Creek say that one of the letters he found was over a hundred and eighty years old?”

Lincoln nodded.

“It probably doesn’t matter how far back we came,” Kayleigh mused, “As long as we find the three sisters.”

The train bounced, then shook slightly as it turned left with the tracks.

“I don’t know,” Lincoln whispered, “Just being here, in this different time, makes me nervous. I was starting to get used to being in Burnam Tau’roh, but this just weirds me out.”

Kayleigh glanced to the now sleeping form of Rylyn then back to him. “I know what you mean. So… what’s the deal with Mona? It doesn’t make sense that she should even be alive now.”

Lincoln just shook his head and said, impatiently, “I just wish this train would go faster. We’re not going to get any answers until we see her. I’ve been waiting for this train to talk, too, the way BTEL #3 did. I guess that upgrade hasn’t been made yet.”

The train continued along the northeastern arc of the Burnam Tau’roh Eastern Line. Neither Kayleigh nor Lincoln could gauge the passage of time. When the train did stop, Rylyn stirred from her sleep, but shook her head when they stood.

“No,” she said quietly. “This is Ticket Station IX. We’re one more up.”

The three female passengers rose from their seats and exited the train, but no new passengers boarded. The mysterious man remained. Lincoln pointed him out to Rylyn and she yawned, then whispered that his name was a reclusive artist rarely seen in public. When the train chugged back to life, Lincoln stood, stretched and moved to the rear of the car. When he returned, he was holding the book the two younger women had been reading. “They forgot this,” he murmured.

Taking the book from him, Rylyn frowned. “No, they did not forget it. It was left behind intentionally.”

Kayleigh glanced at the title. Evil Doth Flow From The Sea.

“Nice title,” she said, “But why did they leave it?”

No longer so visibly upset, Rylyn handed the book back to Lincoln. “There are more Traders on the Eastern Sea than ever now,” she explained, “A growing number of people are banding together in protest of trading. Oddly enough, a Trader has just been elected to the mayorship of Burnam Tau’roh. He’s being sworn in tomorrow. Dissenters believe that all the knowledge the Traders bring in will destroy us. I can only imagine how upset they are knowing a Trader will be representing us.”