Chapter XII
March 1, 2005
William slowed down, thinking it would be too reckless to try to make it over the
tracks. Five seconds after he stopped, the guard rails were down and he could see
the train approaching.
He shouldn’t have second-guessed himself, he thought. If he had sped up by five
miles an hour, he would have made it through and been halfway to his grandmother’s
house.
By the twentieth car, he regretted stopping. He figured he’d already be there by
now. The train had to be going fifteen miles an hour at most. It moved slow enough
that he could almost hop on and hitch a ride.
When the twenty-fifth car passed, he thought of his grandmother. She was a fighter,
he thought. She could hold out until he got there.
He turned his head to the right, searching for the end, but the train seemed
never-ending.
A few of the cars behind him turned around to find a detour. William waited,
counting every train car as they passed the intersection.
He had counted thirty-seven cars on the train. It felt like it took an hour for
them to pass. Even after they passed, it took a minute for the red light to stop
blinking, the bell to stop, and the guard rails to rise.