Chapter 76
The Heaviness of Dead Men
A little later Agnes walked into the carriage holding a book. The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler. One of her favourites. The train rattled and she fell awkwardly onto a seat, holding onto her hat with her free hand as she landed beside the Ghost and opposite the Dreamer.
‘The ride has definitely become a little rockier since the rules were broken,’ said Agnes, looking at the Ghost.
‘Sorry, Agnes,’ said the Ghost. ‘My fault.’
‘As I said to you before you staged your mini-rebellion, we are in a whole new world of uncertainty now.’
‘Yes, I get that …’ The reality of the situation was finally being felt by the Dreamer. ‘At the end, I’ll wake up, right?’
‘Yes,’ said the Ghost. ‘Hopefully.’
Agnes tutted. ‘He sacrificed eternity for a possibility that might not exist.’
The Dreamer looked genuinely scared.
‘Listen,’ soothed Agnes. ‘The train is still on its tracks. So don’t worry too much.’
‘The thing is,’ said the Ghost, ‘I spent our whole life never really waking up. Now you’ll get a chance to.’
Agnes sighed. ‘He actually has a point I suppose.’
She started to read a bit of her book. And the Ghost remembered reading it himself when he was younger, though before the wisdom of Chandler’s words could really sink in.
He thought about how Chandler wrote about death, and of broken hearts. And he looked at the Dreamer – and he longed for him to keep his lightness.