The Sun, the Moon, and Maybe the Trains

by Rodney Jones

  “There anything in there you need?” I asked.

  “I got our money out and a few other things, but I think with all this wind, that house ain’t gonna make it. I reckon if Tess is right, none of them will.”

  “I have to find her.”

  “Take the brown. Just leave him up there; he’ll find his way. If I don’t see you back here by morning, I’ll assume you went with her.” He put a hand to his shoulder. “I reckon I best see to this.”

  “What about this?” I gestured toward the fire. Smoke was streaming from the Hemings’ house.

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  I felt a drop of water hit my cheek. I tilted my head back, but all I saw was smoke. A few more drops hit my forehead. “Well, if I don’t come back, you’ll know I’m fine, right?”

  He looked up the road. “That ain’t no place for a young lady.”

  I glanced into the darkness of the mountainside, then toward the chain of fire-lit neighbors slinging buckets up from the creek. “Give Aunt Lil my love.”

  “I will.” My uncle gave me a slap on the back.

  I left him standing in front of his burning house and ran across the road to the barn.

  I had the brown at a trot leaving Greendale, but then had to slow him to a walk. It was so dark I couldn’t distinguish trees from dirt. Fortunately, the horse had a better sense for the road than I did. Every now and then, I’d look back over my shoulder toward the glow above Greendale and hear what may have been a shout. Wind, rain, and distance made certainty impossible.

  A bit farther up the road, about a half-mile along, the glow was still obvious. All I could hear from up there, though, was wind. The rain pelted my back, soaking through my clothes and dripping from my hair into my eyes.

  I hollered for Tess, but my voice was lost in a roar of wind. No way could she have heard me, unless I was right upon her. I hollered anyway and kept my eyes peeled for her flashlight. I heard the crack of a tree limb and its crash to the ground. I remembered her saying she’d hide if she saw or heard anyone coming. As dark as it was, I couldn’t be sure she’d be able to identify me, but who else would be up here?

  The box I’d rescued was strapped to the saddle behind me. I undid the strap and fished out the flashlight I’d hid in the box, twisted the end, and shined it off to the left and right. I’d have it on for a bit, then turn it off, on and then off. There’d be no mistaking who I was. I was about to switch it on again when I was startled by the sound of horse hooves coming down the road.

  “Who’s that?” someone shouted.

  I immediately recognized the voice and held the brown still.

  “Who’s there?” he yelled.

  I couldn’t see a thing, but I could hear his horse coming closer. He came right up alongside of me. I lifted the flashlight, twisted it on, and shined the beam straight into his eyes. His left hand flew up to shield his face, his right had a gun in it, pointing a little to my right. I grabbed hold of the gun and, with one good jerk, freed it from his hand. He swung at me, but missed. I managed to get a proper grip on the gun and pointed it directly at him.

  “Git!” I shouted. “I’ll shoot you!”

  He ignored me and lunged. There was an explosion as my finger squeezed the trigger. I didn’t mean to; it was an accident. I sucked in a lungful of wet air and held it.

  “Goddamn it!” The sheriff took off down the mountain.

  I shined the light after him, and then let out a long, deep sigh. I didn’t believe I’d hit him, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to try me again.

  I pointed the light at the pistol. Four of the six chambers were empty. I figured he must have been up there looking for Tess. I could only assume that if he’d had any luck, she’d have been on that horse with him. I worked the pistol in under a strap and went on hollering and searching. As I got a little farther up, I noticed the rain was slowing, as was the wind. The beam from the flashlight penetrated a little deeper into the forest, but I still found no sign of Tess.

  All I could do was yell, which I did. I put all I had into it. “Te-e-e-ss!”

  It didn’t seem right that I could’ve passed her, and it didn’t seem right, either, that she would’ve gotten so far up, given the fact that she was on foot. I kept going, yelling and flashing the light around, hoping I’d hear my name being called. Anyone within a mile would’ve surely heard me hollering.

  When I arrived at the ribbon place, it was still raining, though not so hard, and the wind had dropped to a light, but steady breeze. I dismounted and searched the area, calling for her, but got nothing in return. I wasn’t all that certain how long it was from the time I had last seen her to the time I started up the mountain. Could she have beaten me there and then not waited as I’d begged her to do? That didn’t feel right and didn’t seem likely. I hadn’t known her that long, but I felt I knew her well enough to know she’d not leave me in the dark like that. She would’ve at least left some kind of sign. I gave the area another search, but found nothing to suggest she’d been there.

  I climbed up on the brown and headed back down the road. I wondered if maybe she had seen McNeil and hid. She could’ve run off into the woods and gotten lost. A picture of her stumbling through the dark trees and brush came to mind—wet, cold, and panic-stricken. I kept up the yelling and searching, peering even deeper into the trees, trying hard to rid my mind of the dreadful thoughts gaining prominence there.

  I was a bit more than a mile down from the ribbon place, shining the flashlight off to the left of the road, when I caught a glimpse of something a ways back from the road. I turned the brown into the woods. Up ahead, a hundred feet or so, I spotted something blue, the same blue as her dress. I dismounted and stepped in closer, the flashlight an arm’s length in front of me. There she was, sitting on the ground, leaning against a rock.

  “Tess.” I hurried toward her. “Tess.”

  Her eyes were closed. A washed-out line of blood ran down the front of her rain-soaked dress and onto her shoes. A cold, sick feeling twisted down through my stomach and into my groin. I dropped to my knees and raised a shaking hand to her cheek. Her skin was damp and cool.

  “Tess?” I took hold of her shoulders and gently shook them. “Oh, God, Tess.”

  I picked up her hand and held it in mine. I rubbed it, trying to warm it. I rubbed it, but it was me shivering, not her. “Please, God, no.”

  I lowered her hand to her side and then gently lifted her head. Her face held no expression. Even in the dark, the blue of her dress seemed to reflect off her bloodless cheeks and brow. I looked upon her pale eyelids, realizing they would never again open. “Oh, no, Tess, no.” I lowered her head until it rested, slumped forward on its own, then slid the straps of her knapsack from her shoulders and down her arms, clumsily untangling her. I laid the pack down alongside her, then gathered her in my arms.

  “Ohhh…,” I moaned. “My dear, sweet Tess.” With her head resting against my shoulder, I gently ran my fingers through her hair and began to cry.

  I didn’t know how long I held her, how long it was before I began considering what needed done. It was still dark when I lifted her from the ground and carried her toward the brown. I heaved her up, belly down, across the saddle, then took some strapping and secured her the best I could. Her arms dangled to either side of her head. I took one of her hands and just held it. I thought about all the things I could’ve done different, counting all the times I had assured her that it was all going to be all right, and the other promise I’d made. It all felt like a pack of damned lies.

  I headed back up the mountain, leading the horse by its reins. When I arrived at the ribbon place, there was a hint of light to the east. The air was filled with a fine mist. I lifted Tess’s body down from the horse, laid it gently on the ground, and again gazed upon her lifeless face. A large, chiseled hunk of stone was lodged within my heart.

  “Tess.” I knelt alongside her and moved strands of wet hair from her face
. “I’m so sorry.” My eyes roamed the quiet landscape of her features until they came to her lips. I thought of all the glances I’d stolen of them, the funny, the sad, the curious, the reassuring words that had come from them. What would they say now? Would they say, “I forgive you?” I looked for any sign of forgiveness on her face, but it wasn’t there—not the first hint of a smile or a frown.

  “This can’t be,” I whispered. “I was about to take you home, Tess. I promised, remember?” It then came to me; I didn’t promise her that. No, I’d told her I would see her to her car. She’d had no idea of my true intentions or the feelings I suffered for her. She would never know. “Oh,” I moaned. “Forgive me, Tess.”

  I walked the brown to the road and left him there, facing Greendale, then shoved my box down into Tess’s knapsack, and slid my arms through the shoulder straps. I struggled to get her up into my arms, stood for a moment to make certain I had a good grip, and then moved carefully toward the oak tree.

  I took no more than a dozen steps when, all at once, I was standing in daylight, fumbling for Tess’s body as though I’d dropped her. I looked down at my arms—they were empty. I glanced to the ground at my feet, then turned. My box was lying there behind me. My hands went up to my shoulders; the knapsack was gone. I turned again. There was no question in my mind where I was. I knew the trees. But… Tess’s body…

  “No.” I turned in every direction, searching. “No, no, no…”

  I searched the entire area before finally surrendering to the curse that was my fate. I’d been cheated in every way possible.

  The sky was blue, the air calm, and the sun, it seemed, had been up for a while. And I’d been cheated. What a mistake I’d made not shooting that bastard McNeil when I’d had the chance.

  I located the rock that Tess and I had shared some days before and sat there thinking about that day, about how frustrated I’d been that I failed to get her home. It seemed I’d failed her again, but in the worst imaginable way. An awful picture came to mind: her body lying there, alone, in the shade of that oak tree, with no way to get home. I tried. God knows I did. I prayed that I’d get back before someone found her there, but then, an even uglier thought entered my mind—scavengers.

  “God, please.” I lowered my head. “Don’t let them get her, please. Please watch over her until I get back.”

  I looked down at my hand, recalling a time that it contained hers. I could almost feel her warmth in it. I lifted my hands to my nose and drew in a deep breath, but there was no trace of her there. I’d never told her how I felt. Not really. I’d had feelings for her since the beginning. I tried to remember if I’d ever given her anything more than a hint and realized I had not.

  I had to get going. I knew that if I didn’t tell her ma, the poor woman would never know what became of her daughter. I’d have to somehow convince her that Tess was dead and was buried somewhere around Greendale, a hundred and thirty-four years ago. It all sounded like the worst kind of lie. I found it hard to imagine she’d believe me, but then, why would anyone lie about a thing such as that? I’d tell her the whole crazy truth the best I could. I would do that. I’d do it because it seemed it was the only thing left in the world I could do for Tess.

  I walked the path into Wallingford, noticing now and then the sounds of 2009 and then the paved roads and the cars, everything the same as before. I reached Tess’s house by early evening and waited out front in the woods for a time, trying to think of what exactly I’d say. I searched my mind for a long while and eventually realized it wasn’t going to come like that. I’d just have to do it. But then, I couldn’t find the courage to go to the door. I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready.

  I made a wide arc through the woods to the back of the house and farther on to where I’d spent that night in Tess’s tent. I walked right on by the spot before realizing it. When it became apparent what I’d done, I turned around and looked again. Someone had moved the stones away. I gave the area a good hard look, to assure myself it was the right spot. I figured Tess must have done it after I left, but why? Maybe to hide the evidence of us being there? I sat down against a tree, simply too wrung out and twisted to care.

  My eyelids were heavy, so I gave them a rest. It seemed only moments later that a dreadful image of Tess’s lifeless body drifted into my mind. She was lying beneath the oak tree in her bloodied blue dress. The moist earth around her was crawling with snakes and millipedes. Evil-eyed demons with hungry dogs were sniffing their way through the dark woods. I could see it, I could watch them all advancing, but that’s all I could do. It was as if I were watching from her eyes, as helpless as she was. Suddenly, all those dog and demon eyes turned on me. From every direction, fanged jaws lunged. I jerked awake, but those images followed me. Over and over, I tried thinking of any one of the dozens of memories I carried of her, but the awful truth kept returning.

  I then recalled the photograph she’d given me. I opened my box and lifted out the package containing Jules Verne’s book and the seventeen dollars in silver I’d saved. I undid the piece of waxed cloth wrapped around the book and lifted its cover. I was relieved to see that the pages were dry. I opened it, but the portrait was gone.

  I was dead certain I’d put it there. I flipped through the pages, but found nothing. I wondered who would’ve helped themselves to my box. It could only have been one of two people, but why would they have taken the photo? I gazed into the space the book occupied in my lap, trying to make sense of it all. Then, the most awful realization came to me: there was nothing left of Tess, nothing whatsoever, only memories. There were a lot of those. It was as though I’d known her much longer, as if all the memories I had of her could not be fit into the handful of days we’d shared. At the very top of the list was that night in Rutland—the kiss. I closed my eyes, holding onto the magic of that night for as long as I could, and again became drowsy, drifting off into another dream.

  It was nearly dusk when I awoke. I was lying on the ground, curled up next to a tree. It took me several moments to get a hold of where I was and what I was doing there.

  “Tess,” I whispered. “Oh, God, her ma.”

  I got to my feet and paced, fretting again over what I had to do. I was considering putting it off ’til morning, but after giving it some more thought, concluded there wouldn’t be a time when I’d feel any readier. I looked up through the tree limbs to my right and then my left. I turned around. The light was getting brighter rather than darker. Again, I peered up through the trees. The colors were odd. It suddenly dawned on me. Jesus! I had been more tired than I thought. I’d slept through the whole night.

  With the box under my arm, I started for the house, a bit annoyed with myself, but more determined than ever to do what had to be done. I stayed to the woods and swung wide around the front. I located a large maple, parked myself behind it, and waited, hunting for courage until I realized it wasn’t really courage I was looking for, but comfort, and I might have to wait a very long time before I found that. I peeked around to the other side of the tree.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered. “Stop being a coward. Just go.” I took a deep breath, stepped out from behind the tree, and across the lane that led down to Rutland Road. I was walking toward the house when the front door opened. Someone was backing out, a knapsack strapped to their back. I froze.

  She had her back to me and was fiddling with the lock and key.

  “Tess?”

  She turned and let out a yelp. I jumped. The key fell from her hand, hit the concrete steps and, with a tingle, bounced into the flowers off to the side.

  I was paralyzed with confusion.

  She looked at me, then quickly glanced down toward the flowers. She spun around toward the door, tried turning the handle, then turned to me again with a very determined look in her eyes.

  “Tess? You… you’re—”

  She glared. “Who are you?”

  I managed to take a step. I leaned forward and stared. “Tess?”

  “Do
n’t come any closer! I’ll scream!”

  I straightened—a jumbled wreck of colliding thoughts and emotions.

  “I will. I’ll scream.” She threw a mean look my way. “What do you want?” She kept glancing down, searching real quick, and then back to me.

  “I… I’m sorry.” I stared, all agape, trying to form a sentence, while her eyes drilled into mine. “How did you…?”

  “What? How did I what?”

  I shook my head.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “You don’t recognize me?”

  She glared at me. “I should know you?”

  “I don’t understand. How’d you get here?”

  “What? You… I don’t know you.” She stopped, her eyes dizzy with confusion. She shook her head. “I don’t… should I?”

  She looked from me to the plants bordering the steps. My eyes followed hers. The flowers… I stared at them. When was it? The end of July? A month ago, or a bit more? The flowers had not gone by; they were exactly the same. Everything was exactly the same.

  My hand came up and covered my mouth. “My Lord!”

  Tess kept her eyes fixed on me. “Stay where you are!”

  “What day is it?”

  “What?”

  “Date.”

  “The date? Why should I tell you?”

  “Please.”

  She studied me for a long moment. “Uh… the twenty-third.”

  “July?”

  “Huh?”

  “The month of July?”

  She gave me a baffled look. “Well, yeah.”

  It didn’t make sense… did it? July twenty-third? That was the day I first met her. “My God.” I clamped my head between my hands. “Oh.”

  Tess again glanced down, searching around her steps.

  No, it didn’t make sense, and it didn’t matter that it didn’t. I let go of a huge sigh. “All right, all right, okay.” A smile began to tickle my cheeks. I couldn’t have stopped it if I had to.