Four days had gone by since I found that truck.
I still hadn’t seen anything that could be called a landmark, and I’d probably have been reduced to tears if I hadn’t stocked up from the truck. My optimism about the situation was dwindling at the same rate as the food and fuel I had left.
On top of being lost, I had to deal with the Kettle not doing too well. You could say it was breaking down, and not knowing what was wrong with it made me all the more nervous.
If it just stopped running that would be one thing, but given the pressure from the steam, I was terrified the engine might explode out of nowhere. Each time I put my hand on the throttle, I could feel a nervous sweat start up.
Suddenly, the back tires slid out and the vehicle started to shake. I hurriedly pushed at the throttle and sped up, stopping the shuddering just as quickly as it had started. A moment passed.
“I’m gonna be in trouble soon.”
I could do with finding somewhere to take a load off sooner rather than later, what with the nerves. Straining my eyes at the horizon, I fancied I could see something on the edge of the plains. But, no, the landscape was as undisturbed as ever. The tension in my back started to wear on me. I was sick of keeping up such rigid focus when the same tranquil scenery just stretched on forever.
Kicking my shoes off and crossing my legs, I fished out my phone. I tapped at the screen, starting up some familiar western music. I’d have downloaded loads more music if I’d known this was going to happen, I thought idly.
I’d only started driving after arriving in this world, and so for me driving was free time. After all, the only thing I had to do was keep a hand on the wheel. The monotonous sights, the flat road, and the soft English lyrics had me zoning out before too long.
And so I wasn’t quite sure if I was dreaming or not when I saw it. My vision was wavering like when you see a mirage in the desert. It was only when the waves of sleepiness and wakefulness rolling over me surged their furthest toward the latter that I came to and suddenly understood that it was real.
I could see a train station.
There was a long building—a train station—standing on a huge pool of water. The water, which tightly encircled the station, reflected the blue and white of the sky. Two rails extended from the station, one to the left and another to the right. A single black train sat halfway out of it.
I rushed to pick up the map from the passenger seat and unfurled it. There was only one train station on it, so this was probably the one.
A weight suddenly dropped from my shoulders. You may as well call it relief. It was the first time I’d realized how heavily not knowing where I was had been weighing on me.
A train station. That’s where I was—a train station. That knowledge alone lifted my spirits more than I’d have thought possible.
My drowsiness having vanished in an instant, I opened up the throttle. The Kettle said nothing, but I could feel its speed rising as I urged it toward the train station.
Finally, I reached the water. Apparently a depression in the ground had formed the pool, and the water covered roughly a third of the tires. The steering wheel instantly grew heavier.
Ripples spread across the water’s surface as the Kettle progressed. The reflection of the sky warped as I cut through the water and closed in on the station. I parked up by the entrance and finally got a look at the building up close.
The station had a white facade, but it had been heavily worn by the wind and rain. Even so, the building looked completely normal if you ignored the tired exterior. It almost felt like people might come pouring out at any moment. The station building stood at a slight elevation, which must have been how the interior had stayed dry, and a set of stairs seemed to rise from the water up to the entrance.
I shut off the fuel valve and pushed the door open, only to see the sky spread out beneath my feet. I took my socks off and stuffed them inside my shoes before rolling the cuffs of my pants up. When I put my feet into the water, I noticed it was pleasantly chilly.
After opening the rear door, I hauled my backpack onto my back. Shoes in hand, I sloshed through the water toward the stairs. I climbed up a step, and then another, before sitting down on the highest step and taking a towel from my backpack to dry my feet. Replacing my socks and shoes, I stood up and faced the entrance again.
Blue shadows filled the interior, and sunlight streaming in from the windows along the walls dappled these shadows with spots of light. There were benches, and a counter with what looked like a ticket window, but no signs of people. Only the colorful posters and notices on the walls, along with the timetables, gave any hint of the station having ever been active.
The air in the shadowed areas was cold, making the hairs on my arms rise up. Each time I walked through the sunlight, though, the light warmed me up and made me want to close my eyes in pleasure.
The premises weren’t that large. I passed the ticket window and walked out into a corridor, then through some sort of ticket barrier into an area shining with yellow light, which seemed to be the platform. Orange metal pillars held up the roof, interspersed with back-to-back dark gray benches. I could see the vivid greenery of the plains beyond the platform, and the mounds of white sand that almost swallowed up the green. The parked train loomed before me. And...
Sparkling silver threads swayed through the air.
I came to a stop.
There were holes through the thin roof, letting the late spring sunlight form pools in scattered places across the platform. A girl stood in one of them. Each tiny movement she made sent the sunlight scattering from her silver hair. She wore a blue dress—the lighter shade stood out against the sky—that bared her pale shoulders and legs.
The girl was facing the train, and a three-legged easel held a sketchbook level in front of her. She was painting—the brush in her hand moved ceaselessly over the paper as she worked. The scene captivated me so much that it took me a moment to process it. The gentle, dappled light set the girl in stark relief against the shadows around her. It was like looking at some kind of idyllic artwork.
Suddenly, the girl lifted her head.
Just as I thought she might be surveying the sights, she turned casually toward me and I saw her eyes widen. They were a deeper blue than the sky reflected in the water outside. I guess you’d call them azure.