Ben paused between two cars of the train,hearing the small puff of sound in his ears that sometimes signaled a atack-a flashedback or few momments lost time.It had someting to do with with the injuries he'd sufferd in that last shattering battle-an experience he had quiet been able to piece together in his memories.
He wrapped his fingers securely around the handhold next to the slidding door that led to the passenger car.Fragmentally he thought about trying to get to the safetiest seat.The edges of his Vision lit with soft fur of excruciatingly bright light,and the unwelcomed but a familiar sensaton of tingling spread through his body.
Looking through the open door the unmoving train,he focused upon sensation with desperate attention,forcing himself to note each tiny detail. It was small building set against a backdrop of girders and underpinnings that supported the highway.He noted the flat roof and pale bricks of new station,plopped down like a computer chip into the the debris of nineteenth century industrial revolution buildings.At the periphery of his vision ,bits of flamed licked at the furry light.He tightened his hold on the the bar and stared at the doorway of station.
Into the halo of the light stepped a woman.For a moment,he tought she was specter created by his imagination to further confuse the time warp of the scene one of the ghost his mind continually conjured up when he was state.She emerged from the station with the case in her hand,into the gray light of the dark, fall day,in the gloom made denser by the St. Louis air.She was neither small nor particularly tall,and long black coat hid her figure to below her knees.But Ben was transfixed,unable to decide ether she was the real or vision.
She had yards of Golden hair spilling over the black velveteen coat;it cascaded over her shoulders and down her arms and back,falling well past her waist.The crown was woven into what seemed to be the series of braids,worn like cap.
He continued to stared as she moved toward the train,mesmerized by the fantastic beauty of that hair.As she drew closer,his gaze lit upon her face,an oval as pale as overcast sky,unremarkable except for the eyes, which were very dark blue.There was something distinctly medieval about her and he knew she had to be a phantom created by his seizure,even when she climed the stairs and the details of her personage grew more and more definite."Titania,' he breathed.
Pardon me?' She replied,Starting,startled,into his face.
Real then,he thougth,he blinked,struggling to control the interruptions of the thr nerve signals in his brain.When he looked at her ,the blue eyes showed alarm,and spun gold splendor of her hair blended with the halo of light in his eyes,leaving him speechless.
A little rush of receding blood in his face told him it would be over in a moment.Not long now He closed his eyes,Lurching as the train chugged into motion,his foot ankle refusing to support him.He stumbled,and the woman steadied him.He stumbled,and the woman steadied him with a gesture kindness."Thank you",said thickly.He braced himself againts the wall .He din't look at her as he told her "I'll be alright now".
Are you sure? She dipped her head to looked into his face "I can help you to tour seat."
"I'm okey" The words were slurry even his own ears glanced away from the probed of her eyes,knowing he sounded drunk.
She gave a quick,curt nod and esed by him,her body unaviodably brushing againts his as she struggled with the cased in her hand.The door slid slid shut behind her.
Ben took long deep breaths of the cold air that whipped into the tiny area.Slowly his brain ceased its rebellion.It took longer for the trembling of his limbs to steady.His hands would shake perceptibly until he sleep tonight.
Felling winded,he straightened,remembering the woman.God,was she real?He looked over his shoulders,almost afraid to discover that she she was.
Heather found a seat near the back of the underfiled car struggled with her guitar case and canvas shoulder bad until it was as out of the way as she could manage.She took the window seat and settled herself againts the comfortable cushions.She sighed,tying to shake her mood.
For a moment out there,she'd been painfully reminded of James.Although he was so drunk he could barely stand,that the man between the cars had made her think of James with an ached of logging she hadn't felt in a long time.
It wasn't surprising.Everything the last few days had brought James with it.It was periodic,her grief,triggered by the most mundane daily occurrences -a laugh in the back of the theater,a pair of boots like those he had worn,a car he would have notice.Now she drunks on trains twisted the knife.She pressed at the backs of the red brick buildings they passed as train pick up speed.
She tried.The trips tp her mother's house always had to be rushed-twenty-four hours on the to get to St. Louis,twenty-four back to Pueblo,with a long weekend sandwich between.This time,Heather had stayed three days.It was the longest she could stand her feel claustrophohobic.
