The motors which had driven it along its hidden tracks cut out in a long, dying whine. Eddie ran to the edge of the hole and saw Roland riding on one of the escalator steps. Jake— white-faced, bruised, bloody, but clearly Jake and clearly alive—was standing next to him and leaning on the gunslinger’s shoulder. And sitting on the step right behind them, looking up with his bright eyes, was Oy.
“Roland! Jake!” Eddie shouted. He leaped up, waving his hands over his head, and came down dancing on the edge of the slot. If he had been wearing a hat, he would have thrown it in the air.
They looked up and waved. Jake was grinning, Eddie saw, and even old long tall and ugly looked as if he might break down and crack a smile before long. Wonders, Eddie thought, would never cease. His heart suddenly felt too big for his chest and he danced faster, waving his arms and whooping, afraid that if he didn’t keep moving, his joy and relief might actually cause him to burst. Until this moment he had not realized how positive his heart had become that they would never see Roland and Jake again.
“Hey, guys! All RIGHT! Far fucking out! Get your asses up here!”
“Eddie, help me!
He turned. Susannah was trying to struggle out of her chair, but a fold of the deerskin trousers she was wearing had gotten caught in the brake mechanism. She was laughing and weeping at the same time, her dark eyes blazing with happiness. Eddie lifted her from the chair so violently that it crashed over on its side. He danced her around in a circle. She clung to his neck with one hand and waved strenuously with the other.
“Roland! Jake! Get on up here! Shuck your butts, you hear me?”
When they reached the top, Eddie embraced Roland, pounding him on the back while Susannah covered Jake’s upturned, laughing face with kisses. Oy ran around in tight figure eights, barking shrilly.
“Sugar!” Susannah said. “You all right?”
“Yes,” Jake said. He was still grinning, but tears stood in his eyes. “And glad to be here. You’ll never know how glad.”
“I can guess, sugar. You c’n bet on that.” She turned to look at Roland. “What’d they do to him? His face look like somebody run over it with a bulldozer.”
“That was mostly Gasher,” Roland said. “He won’t be bothering Jake again. Or anyone else.”
“What about you, big boy? You all right?”
Roland nodded, looking about. “So this is the Cradle.”
“Yes,” Eddie said. He was peering into the slot. “What’s down there?”
“Machines and madness.”
“Loquacious as ever, I see.” Eddie looked at Roland, smiling. “Do you know how happy I am to see you, man? Do you have any idea?”
“Yes—I think I do.” Roland smiled then, thinking of how people changed. There had been a time, and not so long ago, when Eddie had been on the edge of cutting his throat with the gunslinger’s own knife.
The engines below them started up again. The escalator came to a stop. The slot in the floor began to slide closed once more. Jake went to Susannah’s overturned chair, and as he was righting it, he caught sight of the smooth pink shape beyond the iron bars. His breath stopped, and the dream he had had after leaving River Crossing returned full force: the vast pink bullet shape slicing across the empty lands of western Missouri toward him and Oy. Two big triangular windows glittering high up in the blank face of that oncoming monster, windows like eyes . . . and now his dream was becoming reality, just as he had known it eventually would.
It’s just an awful choo-choo train, and its name is Blaine the Pain.
Eddie walked over and slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders. “Well, there it is, champ—just as advertised. What do you think of it?”
“Not too much, actually.” This was an understatement of colossal size, but Jake was too drained to do any better.
“Me, either,” Eddie said. “It talks. And it likes riddles.”
Jake nodded.
Roland had Susannah planted on one hip, and together they were examining the control box with its diamond-pattern of raised number-pads. Jake and Eddie joined them. Eddie found he had to keep looking down at Jake in order to verify that it wasn’t just his imagination or wishful thinking; the boy was really here.
“What now?” he asked Roland.
Roland slipped his finger lightly over the numbered buttons which made up the diamond shape and shook his head. He didn’t know.