Twelve-year-old Alan stood outside, cold and shivering, waiting for something he didn’t understand. He only knew he’d awakened and been drawn to this spot down by the old tracks. They hadn’t been used in over twenty years. Even though his mom told him to steer clear of the area, he and his friends played there often.
He groggily clutched his blue blanket in his right hand and rubbed his pale blue eyes with his left. He wasn’t scared; he was too tired to be frightened. It was, however, dawning on him that he had no memory of walking to the tracks. He was a good distance from home and it seemed like his mother had tucked him in just minutes ago.
And maybe she had.
When the earth shook and the rattling, clackity train approached, Alan watched with detached curiosity. He knew, somehow, that it was there for him--had come to take him away. Still, he wasn’t afraid. He knew full well he would be boarding that train. He realized with eerie clarity where it was headed and who the conductor would be.
So, when the locomotive finally pulled up alongside him and something that might have once been human leaned out and looked down at him with empty eyes, Alan just stared back, unblinking.
“Need a ride?”
Alan nodded silently and clutched his blanket tighter as he climbed aboard.