Echoes of Dark and Light Read Online Free PDF Page A

boxcar. But I managed to hang on, painfully embedding a few splinters in my palm. I lodged my shoulder into the opening and heaved with all of my weight, forcing the meager opening wider. I tumbled into the wooden box, weak with relief. I lay there for a few seconds, just breathing, and then mentally crossed the first step off my list.

    The train followed along Lake Superior for awhile, then angled southwest into Wisconsin and then south towards Chicago. I settled into a simple routine, trying to rest, eating my meager rations, cleaning the Colt, and practicing loading the revolver with ammunition, powder and percussion caps until I could do the exercise with my eyes closed. Even after just a few hours, my muscles begged for some sort of activity, and I’d spend hours running in place and pulling chin ups on the door track, anything to spice up the day and tire out my muscles. I took special care with my shoulder though, determined not to reinjure it before I even set foot on the battlefield. My lurch onto the train had not only strained the healing muscles, but also painfully wrenched my memory back to when I last injured it, a real life nightmare for both Emma and me. Our little brothers had nearly died in that abandoned mine, and a dislocated shoulder came at an easy price for their lives. If only saving Robert would be that simple. Despite the aches, keeping my body and mind busy helped get through the long days.
    But the dark, lonely, endless nights gnawed at my innards like a starving buzzard. The cold air bit at my toes while sleep evaded me hour after hour. And the ceaseless clackity-clack, clackity-clack of the wheels on the rails vibrated into my brain and bones until it felt like my very own heartbeat. Eventually, I fell asleep, but then dreams plagued me with horrid images of my brother’s fate. Nightmares splattered him across the battlefields, disemboweled him with musket balls, filleted him with swinging swords. I tried everything to shove those lingering images out of my head; I couldn’t afford such negative thoughts whittling away at my resolve. Even our deep connection that assured me he still lived and breathed somewhere in this world couldn’t compete with those vivid, too real dreams that attacked in the lonely darkness of night when both my mind and heart lingered in a more vulnerable perspective.
    The train pulled into depots along the way, and I would slip out on shaky legs in search of fresh water. I filled my canteen and stomach with sparkling stream water, and then making sure no one lurked nearby, I’d strip down a little at a time in an attempt to bathe. I couldn’t believe the grime and soot accumulating on my skin, clothes and hair from the steam engine. Though the icy water brought goose bumps to my skin, it felt wonderfully refreshing. I especially relished in unbinding my breasts from the length of linen I’d wrapped around me. Thankfully, I didn’t have a very buxom figure to try and hide, which definitely helped in my disguise. But the wrap did provide an extra security. I had to be careful; if my secret slipped out, I’d be shipped home quicker than I could spit, and that’s if I was lucky. More likely, I’d find myself making my bed in a prison cell.
    After my makeshift bath, I’d scrounge up a bit more food. Once, I’d hit the jackpot when I found a tree heavy with red, ripe, juicy apples. I filled my pockets and pack to brimming. Another time, I came across a thick ham and cheese sandwich on crusty rye bread, forgotten on a train bench. Well, okay, maybe not so much forgotten as out of the owner’s sight for a second or two. But my stomach had been protesting for a day and a half, and I’d started feeling lightheaded. Besides, the fellow had another one, plus a humongous piece of cake.
    I found life while traveling in secrecy on a rocking train beautiful, amazing, enlightening, exciting, a bit scary, more often than not boring, always dirty, and at times, very gross,