I jumped the gap between what I understood and what I
didn’t, and the Doctor was there on the other side to catch me.
The next freight car up was as dark as a moonless night and
filled with? Hay if I were to trust my nose. The Doctor scrambled through it
without any problem, but it was harder for me without any light, my frock and
long coat catching me up. Outside the train, it was as cold as a winter day,
but inside, crawling over crates filled with good cloth and bad liquor,
squeezing past barrels packed with dry goods I could only guess at, I was
growing warm enough to offend myself.
Every time I thought I might want to shuck that moth-eaten
old coat, we’d emerge from a carriage into the bracing wind and no matter how
much I smelled like a basket of dirty stockings, I’d have a powerful change of
heart. What I wouldn’t have given for a bottle of Miss McCrimmon’s Jicky Guerlain.
We hopped knuckle coupler after knuckle coupler, edging ever
closer to the front of the train.
At last, the Doctor stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked him, steadying myself on the swaying
carriage porch.
‘Door’s jammed,’ the Doctor told me, rattling the brass
handle. He pulled with both hands, then put his shoulder into it, all to no
avail. With a shrug of resignation, he reached into his coat pocket, then
caught himself. Whatever tool he had hidden there remained hidden. Instead, his
hand closed around the rung of a ladder that went up to the roof.
‘Oh no,’ I told him, backing away. Playing leap frog over
janney couplers on a hell-bent train was bad enough. By all that was sensible
and good, I was not about to climb up there, in the dark, on a train hurtling
through the heavens.
‘Ladies first,’ he grinned.
‘Doctor, please! My hands are cold, I’ve barked both shins,
snagged my frock on a nail, torn my stockings, and this train doesn’t seem to
have an end. Please, can’t we go back to the boys and Miss McCrimmon?’
‘Well, we could,’ the Doctor told me without looking at me.
He did that, talked without looking at you. ‘But if memory serves, they aren’t
there anymore. We have to keep going forward to find them again.’
Not there? What sort of balderdash was he expecting me to
believe now?
‘Come on. You’ll understand soon enough.’
I wanted to understand now. Was that really so unreasonable?
‘Where are they if they aren’t where we left them? What
aren’t you telling me?’
‘Plenty,’ he stated, ushering me ahead of him up the ladder.
Well that did it. I was tired of being told what to do and
when to do it by people I hardly knew. It was about time I spoke up. About time
I made a stand. The incongruity of my sudden surge of feministic zeal arriving
as I stood on train flying through the night sky with a strange man from
Gali—Galifri—Galifriboomdeeay—failed to dawn on me at the time, but I had a
wealth of things on my mind and was about to express it all to the Doctor. To
say I was feeling stubborn would have been an understatement. I planted my
hands on my hips, preparing my own version of the Second Chances speech.
Just then, a familiar voice called from atop the carriage.
‘Come on, then! Quit the shenanigans. Shake a leg!’
Whatever I had been about to say went down with a deep
swallow. I blinked hard. ‘Doctor, did you hear that?’
If he did, he wasn’t saying. Instead, he lifted me onto the
ladder and pointed up. ‘Let’s go Catherine Booth. You can lecture me later.’
We staggered atop the roof, the Doctor gripping my arm that
I might not be swept away in the roaring wind and swirl of flickering lights
like jack-o-lanterns spinning around us in the starlight. I do declare, I had
never been so terrified in all my life, but the view! I could see all the way
to eternity. After that, the dark interior of train cars and jumping knuckle
couplers was nothing.
We dropped down into the empty cargo car and proceeded
through another car or two when I heard it again; that same voice, calling out
to me. The Doctor was busy at the far end of the stock car, bent over a
stubborn door latch. I retreated to the back on the carriage, rubbing the grimy
glass window with my sleeve.
‘Oi!’ the Doctor yelled behind me. He’d sprung the door
latch and the wind and roar of the locomotive filled the compartment. ‘This
way, Rose. We have to keep going forward.’
‘But someone’s following us,’ I insisted, straining to see
who was out there. I unlocked the door and stepped out onto the porch. The wind
buffeted me again, twisting my hair around my face as I jumped back a carriage.
To the one loaded with Bibles and Methodist hymn books and smaller pamphlets
printed in what the Doctor had identified as the language of the Potawatomi
tribe. He grudgingly agreed to stop long enough to read to me in the strange,
clipped syllables of a language so unlike any I had ever heard. Standing
outside the car, I could still hear the words. In fact, I could hear many
voices, as if the entire company of boys were there behind the closed door.
I cupped my hands to my mouth and yelled so the Doctor could
hear me over the din of the runaway train. ‘I’m going to see who it is—‘
‘Rose, don’t,’ he told me, reaching after me. ‘Don’t look
back. You have to keep moving forward—‘
Ignoring the Doctor, I twisted the knob and went back the
way we had come. The door slammed shut behind me.
At first, the carriage was dark, the rich scent of hay
filling me with sleepy thoughts. I never did catch those forty winks earlier
and the exertion it was taking to keep up with the Doctor had left me
exhausted. I felt around for the nearest bale of hay in the dim light, lowering
myself down.
It was after the glow of a kerosene lamp washed over my
surroundings that I realized that instead of the car filled with Bibles and
hymnals, I was back in the freight car we had started out in.
The compartment in which we had ridden so merrily together
earlier was empty save the Doctor’s big blue box. It stood in the far corner,
tall and solid, casting a dark, deep shadow over the space. Mac’s straw hat sat
on a hay bale besides Miss McCrimmon’s carpet bag. Wherever she was, she was
going to be mighty displeased not to have her lap robe and her time tables and
those lacy bloomers we’d burned our innocence away with by seeing earlier.
Scattered all about were bits and bobs I recognized as belonging to the boys;
marbles and playing cards and tiny tin soldiers. One by one I swept them into
Mac’s hat as I made my way closer to the telegraph box they must have taken
refuge in. The key on the chain that the Doctor had given to Paul earlier had
been slid neatly into the lock. I wondered what sort of machine existed inside,
a machine to take a man forward and backward in Time.
We met a man today,
He comes from Gallifrey...
My fingers closed on the door handle as I twisted the key,
pushed open the door, and promptly fell out of the train.
Wherever I was when I woke up, one thing was for certain: it
was as quiet as a church during silent prayer. I found that rather comforting
after the affairs of the day. I was sitting on the floor in a vaulted room
awash in twisting light and cool, gentle shadows. Peaceful sounds that reminded
me of long lost summers I didn’t even realize I still remembered reverberated
around me; summer nights, summer breezes, summer skies filled with stars. For a
moment I was even further transported to the days before I had resorted to
sleeping in a coal shed because I no longer had a home, or a family. My eyes
stung with tears, but I wasn’t the only one crying.
There, down a long, tunnel that glimmered like the setting
sun, I could just make out the outline of one of the older boys, his dark head
nodded forward. Leaving the hat and all manner of boyish treasures behind, I
scrambled to my feet, tearing a hole clean through the torn hem on my frock.
Miss McCrimmon was going to need more than a needle and thread to repair that
before our next introduction to prospective kin.
The boy was crying. He didn’t want anyone to know that he
was crying. I could tell that from his face, the way he turned away, the way he
blinked back the tears. To have a friend, you must first be one, and this poor
lad looked like he hadn’t a friend in the whole wide world.
‘Hello? Are you hurt?’
If he heard me, he made no answer. Instead, he cradled a a
large leather book in his arms as dearly as I might have held our family Bible.
His lips were moving silently, his body rocking to a tune that seemed to rise
from the pages themselves. A haunting song, unlike any I had ever heard.
All at once, I was
crying, too.
DEATH, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet
rest,
Let pass my weary
guiltless ghost
Out of my careful
breast.
Toll on, thou passing
bell;
Ring out my doleful
knell;
Let thy sound my death
tell.
Death doth draw nigh;
There is no remedy.
The Doctor’s low voice interrupted the song. ‘There you are! I told you not to—‘
The image of the boy shimmered like ripples in a pond until it was just the Doctor and I in the cavernous room. He steered me down a ramp, past a hat stand, to a set of windowed doors.
‘Come on, Alice. Time we go back through the looking glass.’
And just like that, we stepped back into the train. I glanced over my shoulder once to get a proper look of where I had just been, then wished I had some of those smelling salts we had tried to wake Miss McCrimmon with.
'Wakey, wakey-' The Doctor patted my cheek with cool fingers.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Paul told me, smiling down at me; smiling that smile that always made my knees weak. His voice was sweet, his face sweeter.
‘Paul?’ I threw my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent, hoping I wasn’t committing a sin when I had to admit I liked what I smelled.
The Doctor’s low voice interrupted the song. ‘There you are! I told you not to—‘
The image of the boy shimmered like ripples in a pond until it was just the Doctor and I in the cavernous room. He steered me down a ramp, past a hat stand, to a set of windowed doors.
‘Come on, Alice. Time we go back through the looking glass.’
And just like that, we stepped back into the train. I glanced over my shoulder once to get a proper look of where I had just been, then wished I had some of those smelling salts we had tried to wake Miss McCrimmon with.
'Wakey, wakey-' The Doctor patted my cheek with cool fingers.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Paul told me, smiling down at me; smiling that smile that always made my knees weak. His voice was sweet, his face sweeter.
‘Paul?’ I threw my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent, hoping I wasn’t committing a sin when I had to admit I liked what I smelled.
' You might not want to do that,' the Doctor said, rocking back on his heels.
Aside from the obvious impropriety, I couldn’t imagine why. Nor could I have imagined what transpired next. Paul lifted me to my feet, only it wasn’t Paul anymore. It was Thomas. No. No, it was Piotr, smiling warmly. After that, it wasn’t even a person anymore.
Surprised, I stumbled back and the Doctor caught me and hauled me back to unsteady feet. I was much obliged and felt as foolish as ever for not having listened to him when he warned me before. He said not to go back after all, more than once. I looked up at him, all kinds of sorry on my face, but he was too busy looking this, this Thing up and down to pay me much mind.
‘You can’t just go around changing your face,’ the Doctor scolded.
‘Says the Time Lord,’ scoffed the Thing that, until a moment before, looked like someone I thought I knew as well as anyone.
I wasn’t sure who or what it looked like now; sort of stretched and slippery like a bowl of noodles, only without the bowl. It had too many glimmering parts, especially eyes, and I felt like every one of them was fixed on me. I was beginning to think masquerading as one of the boys was better. I was also hoping Miss McCrimmon wouldn’t walk in and see it.
Then it hit me. Just before she fainted dead away, what had she said about the explosions and the train wandering between the stars? That wasn’t supposed to happen. The Thing reached out a long slippery arm and patted me on the head. It smelled like apple butter. Oh. Oh dear. We were in a bad box now.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ it said again.
‘What are you?’ I cried, recoiling into the Doctor. ‘What have you done to Paul and Miss McCrimmon and the boys?” I thought of little Daivi, lost somewhere on the train, his big dark eyes brimming with tears. Of baby Mattieu, who couldn’t look after himself; of Mac and Willie and the rest.
‘They are here,’ the Thing said, a dozen arms waving and embracing, and all at once they were every familiar face, every happy smile, every uncombed hair on every unwashed face. They surrounded me, whispering, patting my arms, touching my hair, breaking my heart.
I put my hands over my eyes. ‘Stop it! Stop it! You’ve taken them!’
‘There, there,’ said Pat.
‘Stop crying child,’ said Willie.
Daivi slipped his small hand in mine. ‘We’re sorry.’
‘You’re not helping,’ the Doctor told the Thing. ‘Seriously, you’re terrifying her. Time to tell her the truth and then it’s off with you. Back into the realm you came from before I tell the Shadow Proclamation you’ve been mucking about Earth in this century. Shame on you! These stupid little apes don’t understand a thing about Shifters and Whifferdils and multi-forms.’
Tell me the truth about… Wait just one cotton-pickin’ minute. Who was he calling a stupid ape? I peered between my fingers as the thing continued to change like shadows in a mirror.
‘No harm was intended,’ the Thing said. ‘The truth was too painful. The pain saddened me.’
What truth was so painful? But it didn’t have to explain. Seeing their faces now, I admitted what I had known for days in my heart. They were gone. They were all gone and if we didn’t die in a train crash in this impossible place, I was going to end up back at St. Luke’s. Alone.
‘No harm was intended,’ the Thing stressed the words, noodle arms waving, too many eyes blinking. ‘The girl did not want them to leave. They were the ones that mattered most. Her memories were enough to create the illusion—‘
‘That was more than an illusion,’ the Doctor said, shaking a finger at the Thing. ‘Those boys had individual corporeal form. Personalities. They acted independently of one another. To have divided yourself on that scale and maintained it so long—‘
‘Has been arduous, but necessary. An honor. A gift. The girl could not lose hope. Her journey is not yet over. Please, allow me to take a familiar form so I can explain.’
It looked at me, but I shook my head. Don’t you dare.
‘Very well, then. A familiar form for you, Time Lord.’
It shimmered, took shape, and now it was the Doctor’s turn to step back.
‘The boy with the book,’ I whispered, able to see him
clearly for the first time. His eyes were deep and dark, his brown hair as
unkempt as…
‘What do you mean, the boy with the book?’ the Doctor asked me. ‘And I told you, you can’t go around changing faces like that.’
‘He was crying. I saw him—‘
‘In the Tardis?’ the Doctor asked. When I didn’t answer he pointed. ‘The box there, Its called the Tardis. And this is a face I haven’t seen in there in a long time. You can stop it now. You don’t need to borrow Adric to make your point.’
Adric. I liked the sound of that name. ‘Who is he?’
‘Someone that didn’t get a second chance,’ the Doctor said softly.
‘Precisely…’ answered the Thing as it faded from view.
And quick at you please we were on mortal ground again, the bright sun blinding us as the train barrelled on through drifts of snow that sprayed in every direction. For a long moment neither of us said anything, I was about to ask the obvious questions when he Doctor clapped his hands loudly together.
‘Well, that’s done and dusted. Just one problem left.’ He raised an eyebrow at me.
‘The train won’t stop,’ I said slowly, still wanting to understand what had just happened and realizing, sadly, that the Doctor was not going to tell me any of his stories. Not today.
‘Gold star! The train won’t stop,’ he agreed. ‘Simplest solution is we disconnect from the car in front of us.’
‘Shouldn’t the engineer—‘
‘By now, yes, he should have. I don’t think anyone’s left on board. They might never have really been on board to begin with. Impressive trick, almost had me fooled. Poor planning, though, requiring so much energy that when it couldn’t keep up it derailed a little bit of reality with it. Leaving with the train in motion like that wasn’t very bright either.’
Aside from the obvious impropriety, I couldn’t imagine why. Nor could I have imagined what transpired next. Paul lifted me to my feet, only it wasn’t Paul anymore. It was Thomas. No. No, it was Piotr, smiling warmly. After that, it wasn’t even a person anymore.
Surprised, I stumbled back and the Doctor caught me and hauled me back to unsteady feet. I was much obliged and felt as foolish as ever for not having listened to him when he warned me before. He said not to go back after all, more than once. I looked up at him, all kinds of sorry on my face, but he was too busy looking this, this Thing up and down to pay me much mind.
‘You can’t just go around changing your face,’ the Doctor scolded.
‘Says the Time Lord,’ scoffed the Thing that, until a moment before, looked like someone I thought I knew as well as anyone.
I wasn’t sure who or what it looked like now; sort of stretched and slippery like a bowl of noodles, only without the bowl. It had too many glimmering parts, especially eyes, and I felt like every one of them was fixed on me. I was beginning to think masquerading as one of the boys was better. I was also hoping Miss McCrimmon wouldn’t walk in and see it.
Then it hit me. Just before she fainted dead away, what had she said about the explosions and the train wandering between the stars? That wasn’t supposed to happen. The Thing reached out a long slippery arm and patted me on the head. It smelled like apple butter. Oh. Oh dear. We were in a bad box now.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ it said again.
‘What are you?’ I cried, recoiling into the Doctor. ‘What have you done to Paul and Miss McCrimmon and the boys?” I thought of little Daivi, lost somewhere on the train, his big dark eyes brimming with tears. Of baby Mattieu, who couldn’t look after himself; of Mac and Willie and the rest.
‘They are here,’ the Thing said, a dozen arms waving and embracing, and all at once they were every familiar face, every happy smile, every uncombed hair on every unwashed face. They surrounded me, whispering, patting my arms, touching my hair, breaking my heart.
I put my hands over my eyes. ‘Stop it! Stop it! You’ve taken them!’
‘There, there,’ said Pat.
‘Stop crying child,’ said Willie.
Daivi slipped his small hand in mine. ‘We’re sorry.’
‘You’re not helping,’ the Doctor told the Thing. ‘Seriously, you’re terrifying her. Time to tell her the truth and then it’s off with you. Back into the realm you came from before I tell the Shadow Proclamation you’ve been mucking about Earth in this century. Shame on you! These stupid little apes don’t understand a thing about Shifters and Whifferdils and multi-forms.’
Tell me the truth about… Wait just one cotton-pickin’ minute. Who was he calling a stupid ape? I peered between my fingers as the thing continued to change like shadows in a mirror.
‘No harm was intended,’ the Thing said. ‘The truth was too painful. The pain saddened me.’
What truth was so painful? But it didn’t have to explain. Seeing their faces now, I admitted what I had known for days in my heart. They were gone. They were all gone and if we didn’t die in a train crash in this impossible place, I was going to end up back at St. Luke’s. Alone.
‘No harm was intended,’ the Thing stressed the words, noodle arms waving, too many eyes blinking. ‘The girl did not want them to leave. They were the ones that mattered most. Her memories were enough to create the illusion—‘
‘That was more than an illusion,’ the Doctor said, shaking a finger at the Thing. ‘Those boys had individual corporeal form. Personalities. They acted independently of one another. To have divided yourself on that scale and maintained it so long—‘
‘Has been arduous, but necessary. An honor. A gift. The girl could not lose hope. Her journey is not yet over. Please, allow me to take a familiar form so I can explain.’
It looked at me, but I shook my head. Don’t you dare.
‘Very well, then. A familiar form for you, Time Lord.’
It shimmered, took shape, and now it was the Doctor’s turn to step back.
‘What do you mean, the boy with the book?’ the Doctor asked me. ‘And I told you, you can’t go around changing faces like that.’
‘He was crying. I saw him—‘
‘In the Tardis?’ the Doctor asked. When I didn’t answer he pointed. ‘The box there, Its called the Tardis. And this is a face I haven’t seen in there in a long time. You can stop it now. You don’t need to borrow Adric to make your point.’
Adric. I liked the sound of that name. ‘Who is he?’
‘Someone that didn’t get a second chance,’ the Doctor said softly.
‘Precisely…’ answered the Thing as it faded from view.
And quick at you please we were on mortal ground again, the bright sun blinding us as the train barrelled on through drifts of snow that sprayed in every direction. For a long moment neither of us said anything, I was about to ask the obvious questions when he Doctor clapped his hands loudly together.
‘Well, that’s done and dusted. Just one problem left.’ He raised an eyebrow at me.
‘The train won’t stop,’ I said slowly, still wanting to understand what had just happened and realizing, sadly, that the Doctor was not going to tell me any of his stories. Not today.
‘Gold star! The train won’t stop,’ he agreed. ‘Simplest solution is we disconnect from the car in front of us.’
‘Shouldn’t the engineer—‘
‘By now, yes, he should have. I don’t think anyone’s left on board. They might never have really been on board to begin with. Impressive trick, almost had me fooled. Poor planning, though, requiring so much energy that when it couldn’t keep up it derailed a little bit of reality with it. Leaving with the train in motion like that wasn’t very bright either.’