Dark Angel (Casteel 2)
Page 96
trains throughout life, reaching highs, sinking to lows,
riding the plateau between extremities more often than
they soared or fell. I chewed thoughtfully on my
lower lip, pressed my forehead with my fingertips . . and stared at a little girl who had been added to the passengers. A dark-haired little girl wearing a blue coat with matching blue shoes. She was enough like me to cause me to smile. For the trains that apparently led nowhere still gave the passengers thrills. The little girl didn't get off the train at the destination, only an old woman wearing another blue coat with matching blue shoes. And eagerly I went back to the train depot, and saw again the little girl in her blue coat boarding
another train . . .
Oh, but he was good at this toy making, giving
it meaning, imparting without words his beliefs, and
as I turned away from the trains, I felt the familiar
fascination gather me into its arms. "Troy, Troy!" I
called. "Where are you? We have a thousand plans to
make!"
He was seated on one of the window seats
again, his long legs pulled up, his skilled and graceful
hands loosely locked below his knees--and all the
windows were wide open and the cold, damp wind
swept through his bedroom!
Alarmed, I ran to pull at his arm, trying to bring
him out of the nowhere he had lost himself in. "Troy!
Troy!" I yelled, shaking him, and still he gazed
straight ahead without blinking. Even as I shook him, the wind gusted in so strong it blew a table lamp to the floor. I had to use all my strength to pull the windows down, and when I had them all closed, I ran to gather up blankets which I swatched about Troy's
shoulders and legs; still he had not moved nor spoken. His face was pale and cold when I touched him,
but soft, and that made me cry out in relief. He wasn't
dead. Yet the pulse when I felt for it was so faint I
hurried to his telephone and dialed Farthy. Over and
over again the telephone rang and no one answered! I
didn't know what kind of doctor I could call directly.
My fingers trembling, I picked up Troy's Yellow
Pages and was thumbing through them when I heard
him sneeze.
"Troy!" I cried, hurrying to his side. "What are