the doorkeeper camouflaged itself to look like an old deserted house.”
The sun had reached the horizon. Roland asked Jake if he would now show them Charlie the Choo-Choo and then read it to them. Jake handed the book around. Both Eddie and Susannah looked at the cover for a long time.
“I had this book when I was a little kid,” Eddie said at last. He spoke in the flat tones of utter surety. “Then we moved from Queens to Brooklyn—I wasn’t even four years old—and I lost it. But I remember the picture on the cover. And I felt the same way you do, Jake. I didn’t like it. I didn’t trust it.”
Susannah raised her eyes to look at Eddie. “I had it, too—how could I ever forget the little girl with my name . . . although of course it was my middle name back in those days. And I felt the same way about the train. I didn’t like it and I didn’t trust it.” She tapped the front of the book with her finger before passing it on to Roland. “I thought that smile was a great big fake.”
Roland gave it only a cursory glance before returning his eyes to Susannah. “Did you lose yours, too?”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll bet I know when,” Eddie said.
Susannah nodded. “I’ll bet you do. It was after that man dropped the brick on my head. I had it when we went north to my Aunt Blue’s wedding. I had it on the train. I remember, because I kept asking my dad if Charlie the Choo-Choo was pulling us. I didn’t want it to be Charlie, because we were supposed to go to Elizabeth, New Jersey, and I thought Charlie might take us anywhere. Didn’t he end up pulling folks around a toy village or something like that, Jake?”
“An amusement park.”
“Yes, of course it was. There’s a picture of him hauling kids around that place at the end, isn’t there? They’re all smiling and laughing, except I always thought they looked like they were screaming to be let off.”
“Yes!” Jake cried. “Yes, that’s right! That’s just right!”
“I thought Charlie might take us to his place—wherever he lived— instead of to my Aunt’s wedding, and never let us go home again.”
“You can’t go home again,” Eddie muttered, and ran his hands nervously through his hair.
“All the time we were on that train I wouldn’t let go of the book. I even remember thinking, ‘If he tries to steal us, I’ll rip out his pages until he quits.’ But of course we arrived right where we were supposed to, and on time, too. Daddy even took me up front, so I could see the engine. It was a diesel, not a steam engine, and I remember that made me happy. Then, after the wedding, that man Mort dropped the brick on me and I was in a coma for a long time. I never saw Charlie the Choo-Choo after that. Not until now.” She hesitated, then added: “This could be my copy, for all I know—or Eddie’s.”
“Yeah, and probably is,” Eddie said. His face was pale and solemn . . . and then he grinned like a kid. “ ‘See the TURTLE, ain’t he keen? All things serve the fuckin Beam.’ ”
Roland glanced west. “The sun’s going down. Read the story before we lose the light, Jake.”
Jake turned to the first page, showed them the picture of Engineer Bob in Charlie’s cab, and began: “ ‘Bob Brooks was an engineer for The Mid-World Railway Company, on the St. Louis to Topeka run . . .’ ”
24
“ ‘. . . AND EVERY NOW AND then the children hear him singing his old song in his soft, gruff voice,’ ” Jake finished. He showed them the last picture—the happy children who might actually have been screaming— and then closed the book. The sun had gone down; the sky was purple.
“Well, it’s not a perfect fit,” Eddie said, “more like a dream where the water sometimes runs uphill—but it fits well enough to scare me silly. This is Mid-World—Charlie’s territory. Only his name over here isn’t Charlie at all. Over here it’s Blaine the Mono.”
Roland was looking at Jake. “What do you think?” he asked. “Should we go around the city? Stay away from this train?”
Jake thought it over, head down, hands working distractedly through Oy’s thick, silky fur. “I’d like to,” he said at last, “but if I’ve got this stuff about ka right, I don’t think we’re