Puppet

by Pauline C. Harris

  I’m busy fuming on about both of them when James suddenly grabs my elbow. I turn around, expecting him to add on to his earlier spiel, but instead he puts a finger to his lips and points. I follow his gaze and feel my body go stiff as I see a road in the distance through the trees, an administrator standing guard by his car.

  James tugs at my arm and we begin to sprint in the opposite direction, trying to be as quiet as possible. The sucking sounds of our shoes against the marsh and mud make obnoxiously loud noises as we hurry by, causing me to cringe. My heart batters around in my chest and my breathing quickens, not from exertion but from fear.

  We continue to run along for a few more minutes and after awhile we stop and look around, certain that the administrator hadn’t seen us. “We need to make sure to stay away from the roads,” James pants and I nod in agreement.

  The sky above us has darkened to a deep black and the forest is barely discernable. James seems to notice at the same moment I do and looks over at me. “How about we stay here until morning?” he asks.

  I shrug and set my bag down against the trunk of a tree, sitting down beside it and pulling my knees to my chest for warmth. James comes to sit next to me, his elbow barely touching mine. It’s almost awkward and I’m not sure whether to relax my arm and let it brush against his, or tighten up and lean away. I lean my head against the tree. “I really hope this wasn’t just stupid,” I whisper, because talking in the stillness around us seems too loud.

  “It’s not,” James replies and I can hear the smile in his voice.

  After a few minutes, the forest slowly begins to hum back to life around us and we sit in silence. I close my eyes, not fully realizing how exhausted I am and before I have time to think, I’m asleep.

  . . .

  I wake up to the blinding morning light and blink my eyes a few times to realize that I spent the whole night sitting up against the tree. I lean forward, stretching, feeling my back and shoulder muscles stiffen and ache. I look over to see James asleep on the ground a few feet away, his chest slowly rising and falling. His bag is beside me, so I reach for it, unzipping the first compartment, looking for food and finding two apples sitting on top.

  I look up at the sky, trying to figure out what time it is; considering the sun’s position it’s definitely late morning, although how late I’m not sure. I crawl across the shrubbery to poke James in the shoulder, nudging him a second time when he doesn’t move. He mumbles something and slowly sits up. I hand him one of the apples.

  “Did you sleep at all?” he asks before taking a bite, although he still sounds half asleep.

  I nod. “My back hurts though.”

  “Well if you had just gone with the administrators I’m sure you would’ve gotten a bed somewhere,” he tells me teasingly.

  “In a cell,” I state dryly.

  Just then my eyes catch something in the trees far ahead and I freeze. I stare harder into the distance, squinting, and after a few seconds I see him again. An administrator.

  “James,” I hiss, inclining my head in the road’s direction. I see his body stiffen and then he shoves the apple into his backpack. I do the same, gathering up my things and grabbing my bag, but before we have a chance to head away, I hear the administrator’s shout and the sound of his feet slapping against the muddy ground.

  James and I scramble up from our positions and dart into the trees in the opposite direction. We race through the sparsely populated area and I feel oddly exposed in the almost leafless grouping of trees surrounding us. I can feel the mud sticking to my shoes, wanting to suck me downwards and I’m grateful I wore boots instead of shoes that could easily slip off. We splash through a deep puddle of marsh and I can hear the shouts of more administrators heading our way. I’ve assumed that by now they’re certain I’m not willingly turning myself over.

  After a few minutes I notice that I’m a few strides ahead of James and then, almost in shock, I remember everything Jed had given me, the strength, speed and stamina. I guess I forgot why I was running.

  Just then, the sound of something loud and blaring assaults me; like cars honking and grating together; metal on metal, although hysterically metrical. Suddenly James and I stumble out onto a long dirt road and I realize the sound I’m hearing is a train only twenty feet away. It rushes by, its wheels turning and clicking in a frantically methodic rhythm while the cars rumble past.

  I turn around, hearing the sounds of the administrators approaching and when James touches my arm and points down the road, I see a small, black car driving our way. I stare into the forest behind us for a split second, seeing the faces of the people racing toward us, before James pulls me across the road and into the woods on the other side.

  “We can’t cross it,” he shouts above the whirring train; there’s no way but back.

  We stand only feet from the train for what seems like hours only I know it only spans seconds. My hair whips behind me from the force and with one last glance at the car approaching, I turn back to the train.

  “We’re getting on it,” I state, shoving the trepidation away.

  James’s expression morphs into disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

  I shake my head. “You’re crazy if you think there’s any other way.”

  I see him look from me to the train and back, his eyebrows knitted together as the thudding and clicking envelops us in a hysterical cloud of noise. I can feel our pursuers getting closer with every heartbeat and with each second, it quickens. “Now,” I tell James and begin to run. I can feel his footsteps behind me as we try to match the train’s pace. The gravel feels unsteady underneath my feet and I’m too busy watching the carts to notice what’s ahead of me. I reach out to grab the metal railing joining two carts together, feeling the train yank me off my feet and with a yelp, I stumble onto the steps. I scoot over as quickly as I can, feeling my sweaty hands slipping up and down the metal bars, while I reach for James’s hand and pull him on behind me.

  We stand there for a moment in breathlessness, feeling the trees swish by us at a dizzying pace. The train isn’t a passenger one, so although there are steps and railings, the cars aren’t joined together by normal doors. I look past James and spot the handle to the sliding door of the car, facing outwards towards the road.

  “Can you push open the door?” I yell to James above the noise, pointing to the handle. He hands me his bag and I take it with damp hands. I see him lean out across the gap, his feet precariously placed on the steps, and reach for the lever. My heartbeat quickens and I clench my fists, an image of James falling coming to my mind, catching the breath in my throat.

  I see him grasp the handle and push while I silently pray he won’t fall. After a few attempts, the door slides open a few inches with a groan. Some unknown emotion fills me as James slowly crosses the gap toward the door; not relief because we aren’t safe yet, but that feeling you get when you know relief is coming soon. James stumbles into the car and I let out a breath of air I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. He leans out and gestures for me to hand him the bags. I do and begin to shuffle toward the door. I stand on the edge of the steps and lean sideways, reaching for the handle, but James’s arms are longer than mine and my fingers barely grace the edge. I can hear the rushing and clicking in my ears as the wind whips around my face and body, tugging at my hair and clothing.

  Frustration along with desperation fills me as I reach for the door again and find my arms only inches too short. I stare down at the wheels and the tracks zipping by below me, my stomach knotting with fear. I see James leaning out of the car and his mouth is moving but I can’t make out the words. I frown and he repeats it, his lips forming a word that terrifies me as I stare down at the gravel and train tracks only feet below me. Jump.

  I look up at James and his expression is just as worried as I know mine is. I grit my teeth and inch closer, getting as far as I can without tumbling off. I grip the metal bar with one hand and with the other I reach for the handle. I close my eyes briefly.
And with one last breath, I jump.

  14

  In the moment of suspension, three feet above the ground, in the middle of the air, my mind races a million miles an hour and I wonder if I’ll make it to the door or if I’ll fall and be sucked underneath the train and smashed against the tracks. I feel one foot hit the doorway to the cart and then James’s hand wrap firmly around mine. My other hand grasps the doorway handle and I feel myself begin to topple backwards before James pulls me inside the cart. I fall to the floor with a thud, James beside me, the noise suddenly diminished by half as the walls enclose around us. I’m on my hands and knees, gasping as my heart rate spins out of control.

  I roll over onto my back, pressing my hand firmly above my heart, feeling it rattle against my ribcage and the cold of the metal cross against my skin. I can hear James panting beside me and we just sit in the sudden calm for seconds, our labored breathing being the loudest sound.

  “Are you okay?” James eventually asks, his voice somewhat quiet with shock.

  I nod my head up and down and then before I can control it, a rush of laughter bubbles up from my throat and suddenly I can’t seem to stop. James sits up to look at me, slightly alarmed, but I only wrap my arms around my middle and laugh some more. A small grin spreads across James’s face as well and before I know it, he’s laughing too. Left over adrenaline pumps through my veins, releasing itself in small bursts of giggles as I pull myself into a ball on the floor.

  Giddy relief floods me like a wave as my muscles relax and I reach out to grab my bag, hugging it to my chest as my giggles slowly subside. I see James get up from beside me and then he helps me to my feet. We’re both still a little shaky.

  I look around the car. It’s mostly empty, to my surprise, except for stacked boxes to the far side of the room. As I approach them I see they’re labeled with many different food items and I presume this is intended for a grocery store somewhere. James heads over to the large rolling door that’s still slightly parted from our arrival and pulls it shut, locking out the rest of the blurred, whirring noise, leaving us with muffled clicks.

  “I can’t believe we actually did this,” I almost whisper, still in shock. I sit down on one of the boxes. “I mean, we outran the administrators and jumped on a train.”

  James grins in amusement. “I told you it’d be an adventure.”

  I smile and reach into my bag, pulling out the apple I abandoned only minutes before; so odd that it seems like hours. James comes to sit beside me, following suit. We eat our breakfast in silence, the noise from the train making up for lack of conversation. The room around us seems so foreign and strange but for some odd reason I feel no apprehension about being here. It feels right; normal even. Much better than going along with the administrators.

  I finish eating my apple and suddenly something on the far side of the room catches my eye; a ladder. I get up and walk toward it, seeing that it leads to a hatch on the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?” James asks.

  “Look,” I reply, pointing to the ladder and turning around to grin at him. He stares at it blankly. “It goes up there,” I say excitedly, pointing to the rooftop.

  His eyebrows slowly knit together in that same cautious expression James so frequently displays. He turns his head to the side, slowly realizing what I’m getting at. “Pen, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  I roll my eyes and turn around. “You’re such a wet blanket,” I state before beginning to climb the ladder, apple core still in hand.

  “Pen,” James says warily and I hear his footsteps coming closer. I feel something reach out to grab the bottom of my pant leg and I turn around to frown at James. “It’s dangerous,” he states.

  I sigh in frustration and try to yank my foot away.

  “You almost fell off a train and now you want to try it again?” he asks incredulously.

  “Oh, please,” I respond sarcastically. “I’m not going to fall off.” James raises his eyebrows at me but I yank my foot away and keep climbing. After a few moments I hear the rattling of the rungs below me and I smile smugly. I reach the top of the ladder and start fiddling with the hatch above me. After a few tries I eventually turn the lever and push the hatch open.

  Instantly, wind and metallic sounds swarm in at us and the hectic noise of the train returns. I grab the edge and pull myself up, seeing ladder rungs along the top of the cart as well.

  I stand in the wind, smiling, watching the cars ahead of me, too many to count, as they twist along the turning railroad track. I turn around and see an endless string of cars behind us as well and trees on either side of the train. James crawls up the ladder to stand beside me, our waists level with the hatch, our hips barely touching since the opening is so small.

  “Isn’t it cool?” I shout over the wind as James looks around. He nods and although I can tell he means it, he’s apprehensive.

  I take the apple core in my hand and fling it as hard as I can, watching as it sails into the sky and through the trees behind us. I step up higher on the ladder, the hatch level with my lower thighs. “Pen!” James snaps, grabbing my wrist.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, grabbing his hand and pulling him up to my height. He unsteadily steps up beside me. I look around at the forest whizzing by and put my hands up in the air, mostly just to irk James, and feel the rush of the wind against my skin. I look over at him and send him an excited look. Irritated alarm fills his eyes and he reaches out to pull my hands down, placing them around the metal bars on the top of the cart. I laugh as he begins to descend the ladder, motioning for me to follow, and with one last look around I climb down after James.

  I seal the hatch with a thud and slide down the ladder, jumping to the floor beside James. “Fun, right?” I ask him.

  “Exhilarating,” he replies dryly and then grins when I laugh.

  “You need to be a little more daring sometimes,” I inform him.

  “And you, as previously stated, need to be a little more cautious sometimes,” James responds, turning around to face me with a telling look.

  I send him a mock glare. “You won’t have any fun unless you’re a little daring or crazy.”

  “And you won’t live very long either,” he replies. “In some cases.”

  I roll my eyes with a laugh, walking to the other side of the room and sitting down with my back against some boxes. I pull open my bag, searching around until I find a sweater, pulling it out and slipping it on. James sits down by his backpack a few feet away and continues to eat his apple. I don’t know what time it is and wonder, briefly, if James brought a watch, but then dismiss the thought; considering how quickly he packed, I doubt it. I ask him anyway, but he admits he didn’t bring one. We sit in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the train around us, oddly comforting and secure.

  “Pen?” He asks after awhile, and I turn to face him. He seems almost startled when our eyes meet, as if hesitating over his next words. “Do you believe in God?” The words are rushed.

  I open my mouth, surprised, not sure at all what to say. The question is out of the blue and seems unnatural coming from James’s lips.

  “I just...you always wear that necklace,” he adds quickly in explanation, gesturing to the cross around my neck.

  “Oh,” I say in realization, my hand instinctively reaching up to touch the cool metal against my skill. “I...” I trail off and shrug. “I guess I do...” I tell him, surprising myself in the process as I realize the words must be true in order for me to even say them. I was never really sure whether I believed or just told myself I did. “It was from my parents,” I add. “The cross. It’s the reason I’ve kept it all these years.”

  James nods, looking away as if glad to know the answer, but embarrassed for asking all the same.

  “Do you?” I ask, never wondering before now.

  “Yeah.” He nods. “I do.”

  I watch him for a second, wondering how this had never come up before. I had always known Jed
had some spiritual beliefs and most likely James as well, but I had never ventured to ask them about it. I guess I had always viewed our relationship as a business one and only too late am I realizing that it was more.

  “How does that work?” I ask after a pause. “Magic and God. Don’t they kind of clash?”

  James looks thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. “Depends on what you think magic is.” He pauses. “It’s just a word, Pen.”

  I nod and shrug. “I guess.”

  James watches me, his blue eyes piercing mine as if trying to read my thoughts; to understand and discern them. “What I mean to say, I guess, is that I believe good things happen. I believe God gives us good things in our lives. Some people call it miracles, others magic, others luck. They’re all just words, but they all seem to mean the same thing.” He stops again. “It’s just how you look at it. Perceive it.”

  I’m silent while James’s words disappear into the air around us. I wonder how many good things James has seen in his life. His father, his home, a family, love. I think of the orphanage, the gray and white hues and diminished hope in a world so full of the selfish and I wonder if good things really do happen, or if it’s just a saying told by happy people.

  But then I think of the last few months. The beautifully twisted circumstances that brought me here. With Jed. With James. I think of laughing over the dinner table, long talks with James about anything and everything, Jed going on in excitement about his science or some new robot marionette. Something good. Some little light flashed through my life to show me what a family feels like; a real family. I feel tears prickle the corners of my eyes; happy because I had this chance and devastated because it’s been thrown away before I even had the chance to realize what it truly was.

  I look up to see James watching me intently and I realize I’ve been silent for awhile. I blink back the tears, suddenly feeling brave; like anything that might have held us back before doesn’t exist. That these circumstances bring excuses to just talk; to just be.