Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
The next day, disillusionment follows because we lost a large part of our clothes, all the medicine, and also Bren’s chilies. Even though Bren had a pack of painkillers in his cargo pants, a blessing, the antibiotics would have given me more security especially given Bren’s injury. At least the cut has stopped bleeding.
The positive: We have disinfectant tablets for water, our warm jackets, food supplies—also for Grey—and our cell phones. I even found Liam’s gray scarf in the backpack. I tie it around my neck so I can use it to cover my face because the draft is cold, plus this way I can’t lose it.
Our plan is to head east and retreat into the wilderness for the time being, maybe in Quebec where there are a lot of connected forests and lakes. We’ll be safe there for the summer and the rest will fall into place. Bren hopes to find an abandoned trapper’s cabin for us to winter in before heading to Los Angeles in the spring to acquire fake passports. Maybe we can sneak into an internet cafe in a month or two so he can contact his friend sooner. Anyway, Bren doesn’t mention Europe anymore and that puts my mind at ease for now.
On this day, we learn about illegal freight train hopping across Canada. For example, there are several reasons why freight trains stop: when letting another train pass in the middle of the wilderness, at the end station, and for reloading freight cars. Sometimes, some cars are exchanged in a lonely freight yard before the journey continues. Every time the train stops, we pack up everything in no time, climb out, and hide as best we can in the undergrowth at the edge of the tracks to avoid security. Only when a train starts again do we jump on. My ankle makes it much more difficult, whereas Bren’s injury doesn’t seem to hinder him, or at least he doesn’t show it.
We learn to duck as soon as railroad crossings come into view because even in the wasteland there is occasionally traffic and we teach Grey when to jump off and frolic.
Over the next few days, we establish a routine. We save our water supplies, and at some point, we get lucky and stop at a lake surrounded by dark forests. That’s where we climb off the train for a longer stop, fill up our bottles, and splash around in a sheltered shallow spot in the icy water. Grey is happy because he can finally romp around for a longer period, and as a treat, we get to spend the night in the forest with scented fir trees, a crackling campfire, and eat three trout from the lake that Bren impaled with a spear he carved himself. Even Grey gets one, but I don’t think he cares for it much because he leaves half of it.
At night, Bren and I make love outdoors and I’m transported back to under the willow tree by the lake in the Yukon, to a time so dreamlike, tender, wild, and confusing that I never truly understood what was happening. Today, it seems to me as if it were enclosed in a snow globe. I can’t get close, looking at it from the outside, but when I shake the memories, the magic falls like snowflakes and lights up my heart.
It takes me a long time to fall asleep, and when I wake up early in the morning, Bren is already up. He crouches by the lake, dipping his injured wrist in the water, his back oddly arched.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, alarmed as I walk toward him.
He flinches. Maybe I startled him, but then he turns and smiles. He wraps the scarf around the wound.
“Would you like me to help?” I washed the cloth yesterday and hung it up to dry in the wind overnight.
“It’s okay.” He puts one corner in his mouth and tightens the knot with his left hand and teeth. “I’ve often done it myself—before,” he says. “I simply wanted to clean up the edges a bit—there was still dirt in it. It’s coming out little by little.”
I look at him warily because he appeared to be in severe pain as he sat by the lake so stiffly.
“Lou, don’t look at me with those big eyes.” Bren walks toward me. “Everything is fine.”
“Really?” I ask quietly.
“Yes, really.” He takes me in his arms, locks me in the cage of his body, and I feel him in the morning crispness like a protective warm blanket around me. I breathe into his hoodie a few times, relaxing more with each breath. As if from afar I hear him say, hugging is one of your skills. It still works, even if it’s no longer the past that scares me.
We brush our teeth with the one toothbrush we have, pack up all our things, and walk to the tracks in the twilight. We have no idea where we are exactly, but Bren uses the sun, stars, and vegetation to orientate himself and yesterday he said we were probably in Alberta, a little to the north.
Two more days pass and we are almost professionals. We find suitable cars faster and faster and finally are brave enough to climb onto the roof of the train, but only with slow-moving trains and only during the day so we can spot a tunnel in plenty of time. However, there are now fewer of them than when we started. Wide grassy landscapes glide by, endless prairies with millions of butterflies, wheat fields like oceans, and granaries like lost lighthouses. Bren believes we are in Saskatchewan, where you’ll find the quietest places on earth.
Sometimes, I almost forget we are wanted by the police. It all seems like a new dream to me. The limitless land, the rattling of the train, and us. Space and time are lost somewhere on the horizon. Bren’s nightmares are the only reminder of the past, if he sleeps at all. Since we have to get off the train every time it stops, only one of us is allowed to sleep at a time, although I have a feeling Bren hardly sleeps at all. Whenever it’s my turn to stay awake, I see him lying on the floor with his eyes open, staring at the sky. If he nods off, he wakes up screaming and clenching his hands as if he’s about to defend himself. Most of the time, I can calm him down, but sometimes he clenches his teeth and sends me away. That’s when I climb over the connecting grates to the next car until he calms down.
I can deal with it now that I’ve gotten used to it. I’m not afraid of that kind of demon anymore. I was able to bring Bren back with my mind when it mattered, at least, I believe I did. Maybe it was only my inner attitude he sensed, but whatever it was, it helped. I’m rather afraid he might fall off the train in a situation like that, but he says he won’t be that far removed from reality.
Still, I can’t help noticing how exhausted he seems, but when I ask him about it, he doesn’t want to hear it.
Another two days pass and the trains travel through deep forests, like in the beginning, with countless rivers and lakes in between. Sometimes, the train meanders like a reptile through endless waters. We could be in Manitoba by now, at least that’s what Bren says. Every now and then, we pass weather-worn totem poles and I remember Jay often mentioning that Manitoba was Indian land.
One night, after I don’t know how many, Bren and I sit on the grate at the end of our car. The oversized full moon is perpendicular in the sky and stars are all around us, a quintessential sea on the midnight-blue vault. The wilderness surrounding us glows in dark, silky shades of blue: the green-blue firs, the smoky-blue hills, and the indigo-colored lakes with their shimmering surfaces. Nature appears blurred—like a silk painting where all colors run into each other and only the stars are clear. It’s a bit like Bren and me. We are clear, the world and the future are vague, without contour.
Bren smiles when I tell him this and he points out constellations I don’t recognize. The Bootes looks like a gigantic ice cream cone. “The brightest star—Arcturus—is noticeably reddish. Do you see it? It’s a red gas giant, a star in its final stages of existence.” Then he shows me Auriga. “Its name in Latin means charioteer. Its brightest star, Capella, never sets in the night sky. And over there”—he points to the millions and millions of stars and I follow his gaze—“is Serpens. Its brightest star is Unuk, also called Unukalhai. In the snake’s tail lies the Eagle Nebula.”
“You know almost every star by name,” I say, surprised.
“That’s what happens when you spend time alone in the Yukon.” It sounds almost apologetic.
We remain silent, staring at the sky, when Bren takes my hand.
“If you could have one wish, what would you wish for right now?” I ask him after a while.
Bren doesn’t reply for a long time, and at first, I think he didn’t hear me. But then he says, “I wish time would stand still and that this very moment would become an eternity. And you?”
I watch his profile as he sits there stargazing, his dark hair windblown and his unyielding lips as tight as ever. I already know that this image of him, here on the dark train and in the silky blue of nature, is deeply engraved on my soul, even if one day I forget everything else about our escape. It’s like the picture from when he kidnapped me. Him in the Lodgepole parking lot, the sunlight like will-o’-the-wisp in his eyes, the tall redwoods at his back like a black band. Some moments last forever even after they’re long gone. It’s the feeling that remains. One only notices a few details and everything else fades. But maybe it’s those moments that make an eternity. Perhaps eternity doesn’t mean a span of time but the unforgettable in the soul that still floats through space even after we’re dead.
I look at Bren and want only one thing: for him to be happy. “I would like your dream to come true,” I say. “The one with the farm.”
Bren laughs his short HA laugh that always sends a hot-cold shiver through my veins. “Dreamer!”
I punch his side with my free hand. “Hey, it’s your dream,” I reply, mockingly offended.
“You know they’re going to catch us one day, right?” he asks, his voice suddenly hoarse.
My mood changes abruptly because he sounds serious and sad even though he was just laughing.
“They won’t!” I insist defiantly, but his words sink like a stone into my stomach.
“This isn’t eternity, Louisa. Even if we make it to Winnipeg or Quebec or wherever, what are we going to do? I can’t access my money anymore and we don’t own anything except for what we’ve brought along. What do we do in the winter when the temperature drops and we can’t find an abandoned trapper’s hut?”
“We could steal an RV,” I suggest pragmatically.
“You’re a real criminal.” Bren smiles at me, but I can’t smile back. I don’t know what he’s about to tell me, but there is a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“We wanted to go underground and look for a small place in Canada after nine months. We were going to Los Angeles to see this Ramon to get fake passports and stuff. What’s wrong with that all of a sudden?”
Bren gives me a look, and for the first time in days, I can’t read him. He’s closing himself off to me and I don’t know why.
“Bren, say something!”
He sighs deeply.
A vague panic rises in me and I move away from him, pulling the down jacket tighter around me. “You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?” The night air suddenly feels much colder than before. I think about the moment in the RV when he wanted to leave me. Then we’ll see…
“What do you mean by something stupid?” he asks softly.
Of course, he has something planned, and once again, I didn’t notice, like the other day before he stopped at the Seattle Plaza. In my memory, I see myself walking across the parking lot in Hudson’s Hope, blinded by tears, my heart heavy as lead. “You’re going to send me away because you think it’s best for me,” I say, feeling the old sorrow rising—I still feel it.
Bren is silent and stares into the night.
“Bren!” I scream. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” The rattling of the wheels thunders along in time. Another train blows its horn in the distance. “Promise you’ll never leave or send me away. Promise me!”
Tenderly, he strokes my hair and I see him swallow. I could pound my fists against his chest. Suddenly, I know something has come between us, I just don’t know what.
Bren looks at me seriously. “It’s hard for me to make that promise,” he says.
I shake my head in disbelief. “Why? What has changed all of a sudden? Not too long ago, you said you’d have to be crazy to ever let me go. Bren, we never wanted to break up again. I swore I would never leave you. You never wanted to give me up, either!”
“I know.” Bren clenches his hands like he does during the nights when bad dreams haunt him.
Suddenly, another fear surges in me. “Or am I already too much for you? Maybe you’ve noticed how boring life is with me when I choose to stay with you voluntarily?” I stare at him and he flinches as if he’s been electrocuted.
“You must be completely insane to believe that,” he says flatly, his eyes twinkling black. “I’ve simply had time to think about everything calmly, without my feelings interfering. Life here on the train still seems like a grand adventure to you. But what if we end up getting chased by the cops? Or get involved in a shootout? What if something happens to me in the wilderness and I can’t protect you? I don’t want to put you in danger again! I want you to be safe.”
“And that’s why you want to go? We already discussed this.”
“Lou, I never said I wanted to go. I just said you’re a dreamer.”
“You said we couldn’t run forever. What else have you been thinking about? How to secretly sneak away during the night? What are you planning to do? Jump off the train during a foggy, dark night—and I wake up alone in the morning?” I can’t stop the tears from gathering in my eyes.
Bren looks past me into the distance, which passes by like a dreamy blue veil. “Of course not, Lou!”
I don’t believe a word he says and something sticks inside me. “Yes, you are! You wanted to leave me alone!” With a daring leap, I jump onto the railing of the next car, away from Bren. A sharp pain shoots up my ankle. The train jerks in a curve and I stagger but quickly grab the car’s metal frame.
“Lou, wait!”
“No, just leave me alone!” I snap at him. “I thought we were a team. I thought we were equals. But how can we be when you’re making all the decisions?”
“I only said…”
“I don’t give a damn what you said,” I yell at him. “Sky and wind!” My heart aches. He wants to leave me alone now! Like last year, he just wants to send me away. He wants to do what he has to do, as always!
Mindlessly, I pull myself up the metal frame of the car, climb onto the roof of the train, and start moving.
“Get down from there, Lou!” Bren yells up at me angrily, and when I turn around, he’s on his feet.
“No!” I walk on, step by step, arms outstretched.
“Lou, this is life-threatening! You don’t know when the next tunnel will come!”
“It’s a full moon, I can see far enough!”
“You really believe that!”
The wind slaps my face, its sharpness bringing new tears to my eyes. Bren can’t just leave. I couldn’t bear to lose him. Not after everything we’ve experienced and been through. Not after putting my hands on his in the tunnel.
A dull rumble makes me spin around. Bren is at the other end of the roof following me.
“Leave me alone! I want to be alone!” I shout at him.
“Okay. But not up there! Come down!”
Without replying, I climb down and jump onto the next car. There, I climb onto the roof of the next car. My ankle hurts and I need to take another painkiller, but there’s no way I’m asking Bren for it now. I turn around carefully.
He stands in the middle of the other roof and swears.
“The next tunnel is going to hit you first!” I call out to him stubbornly.
Bren jumps to the other end with long strides and climbs down, but I keep moving. He’s following and of course, as always, he’s much faster. Over the wind, I hear Grey’s dark wolf bark fading into plaintive howls, but right now, I don’t care.
“Lou, wait!”
I am now on the third roof. Fortunately, the cars of this train are all the same. I can go on like this for half an eternity, the freight train seems to have no end, but Bren will soon have caught up with me. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, though, I just don’t want to know. The pain in my chest is like a seeping wound.
When I’m in the middle of the fourth roof, I hear metal rattling at the end. Bren is already up.
I turn to him. Gusts of wind hit my back and I struggle to keep my balance. “Promise me you won’t leave me!” I scream through the night. “It doesn’t matter for what reason!”
“Don’t ask that of me!” Bren looks at me, his face haggard from worry. It’s only now that I realize how miserable he looks, like he’s seriously sick. “I love you, Lou. I love you more than my life. You know I’d do anything for you!”
“Promise me, then!”
He approaches with his palms facing me. “I don’t want to leave, Lou, I just kept going through all sorts of situations. And I got scared. What if something happens to me and it puts you in danger? Lou, I would never forgive myself.”
I look at him. “I want you to promise!” I shout uncompromisingly. Anything else doesn’t interest me. “I don’t want to hear anything else!”
“Lou, don’t take advantage of my love! We don’t know what will happen in the future.”
It’s hard for me to breathe, everything hurts. I don’t want to have to part with him again. “Promise!” I yell at him. It’s all I can think about.
“Okay,” Bren whispers and I see the word rather than hear it. He shrugs in surrender, seeming infinitely dejected as if he were carrying a heavy burden. “Okay, if that’s what you really want, I promise. I will never leave you, no matter what.”
“And you won’t give yourself up voluntarily and leave me alone!”
“Lou…”
“No!” My heart is still burning so much, it’s like molten lava in my chest, and yet I’m cold with fear. Freezing.
Bren presses his lips together as if to hold back the next words, but he says them anyway, “I won’t turn myself in voluntarily, I’ll stay with you!”
I start to cry out of relief, but also because he looks so unhappy. Sobbing, I approach him and he comes toward me. Helpless like a child, I reach out and wrap my arms around his waist. Suddenly, I can’t stop crying even though everything seemed so perfect before. Maybe it’s still perfect or maybe it never was and I just really wanted it to be.
“It’s okay, Lou. I’m sorry.” Bren hugs me and I bury my nose in his hoodie, sucking in his scent, forest, wolf, and the blue night. Suddenly, I feel so lost even though he’s holding me. Just imagining losing him freaks me out. Bren strokes my hair and murmurs soothing things I can’t hear over the wind and the rattling of the train. I press against him, trembling, feeling his warm body. I love him so much that there are no words for it. I raise my head to tell him this, but all I can see is the massive rock face racing toward us.