Ezekial's Train, Chapter Ten

In Daniel's dream, Mordecai weeps. The bear’s shoulders, once strong, are hunched and withered and his head is bowed in defeat. It occurs to Daniel to reach out and comfort the poor creature and slowly, as if through molasses, he tries to raise his arm. The bear shakes its head.

“I tried to warn you,” Mordechai says in a voice snatched away by the howling wind. “I told you, in seventy-five years…”

A rage bubbles up in his chest and erupts through his throat, venomous anger spilling from him. “In seventy-five years, what?” Even as he shouts he struggles to make himself heard over the wind. “What do you want from me? What do you want me to do? Tell me! Tell me, damnit!” He’s still screaming as the wind turns into a gale, tossing him away from Mordecai until the bear disappears, swallowed by the storm.

“…niel? Daniel!”

Daniel’s eyes fly open. His breath comes in short gasps, as if he has been running and is in desperate need of air. His eyes dart back and forth as he tries to gain his bearings; the room is dark, but what details he can make out feel familiar.

“Daniel?”

Daniel realizes he is not alone, and someone has placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Standing above him is Esther, her face lined with concern. He reaches for her hand and wraps his fingers around hers, and it brings him some peace to feel the warmth of her hand in his. “Esther, where am I?”

“Home,” she says, before correcting herself. “You’re back at our house. When we pulled you from the water, you were gasping and jerking just like a you were having a fit. We brought you back and Mama finally convinced him to bring a doctor. He was right sure you were beyond his help, but he helped us cool your fever and keep you from burning up.”

Daniel nods. He stares at the featureless ceiling, lost in memory. The feeling of warmth, of peace and of a purpose fulfilled, roll over him like a wave. He knows there is more to do, but perhaps now he will be granted some peace. For a little while, at least.

“Would you like something to eat? I can run down right now and get Mama. You missed dinner, but Mama can probably warm something up for you, and…”

“No, please, don’t,” Daniel tries to sits up, wincing as his unused limbs creak and crack in protest. Abandoning his plan of sitting up, he leans back against the bed’s headboard.  “I don’t think I’m ready to see others just yet.”

Ester nods. “I can leave you be, if you wish.”

“No! I mean, I would like someone to speak to, I’m just not sure I’m ready to…” His voice falters, unsure of how to explain his wish to keep her here beside him while keeping the outside world at bay. Ester, however, places the damp wash towel she’d held clenched in her fist inside a bucket of warm water and sits at the edge of the bed. “I understand. You must be dying to know what happened after…well, after all that.”

“I would,” he says. “What happened after I landed in the water?”

“Papa and Thurgood fished you out quick, but you weren’t…right. Your eyes were spinning in your head and you were mumbling some terrible nonsense.” Ester’s face pales at the memory. “We sped back to shore and brought you here, but by then you were running that terrible fever and thrashing something fierce. Mama finally went and got the doctor. It’s been about a week since then.”

“And you’ve been tending to me all this time?”

Ester nods, and Daniel felt her fingers tighten around his. “We were sure you were going to die. Your visions, are they always so frightful?”

Daniel shakes his head. “Not usually. They’ve been worse lately.”

“Because of Papa and his crusade? Is that why?”

“No!” Daniel looks into her eyes, hoping to inspire conviction. “This is something I want to do.”

“Is it?” Ester stares back and her eyes, though big and round and brown as a doe’s, seems to pierce his heart with the intensity of her gaze. “I sure hope it is. Because if I were you, I’d make sure I’d know who I am and what I want. Your life belongs to you.”

With that, she jerks her hand out of his, as if she just realized where it was. A dark red tinges her face, and she hastily stands up, promises to bring him dinner, and rushes out of the room. Daniel watches her go and feels a loss he can’t describe at her absence.

Daniel leans back and stares at the ceiling.

The words seventy-five years echo through his head and fills the room until he can no longer bear it.