The Christmas Train (6 page)

“But why?” Anna interrupted the dark memory. “I thought they were supposed to protect us from the bad people.”

“Humph!”

Anna heard the harrumphing sound Miss Eva made in her throat, a lot like Nana Rose used to make when she didn't believe something someone said but was too polite to call them a liar.

Anna wanted to reassure the old woman, to convince her there was nothing to fear. But she was too tired to argue. Miss Eva was suspicious of everybody in uniform. Nana Rose had always said to treat people the same way you wanted to be treated. To be friendly and polite. But not
too
friendly. It was all very confusing.

Miss Eva's pace grew slower as they trudged down the length of the platform toward the brightly lit station. Slower and slower. Anna looked up at her. “I can carry your suitcase for you.”

“No, no.” Miss Eva shook her head. “I do it.”

She was just as stubborn as Nana Rose. “Look, we're almost there You can sit down and rest once we get inside.”

“Ja, das ist
gut.”

Once they were inside, Miss Eva collapsed onto the first hard vinyl seat they came to. She'd gone pale, and was gasping for breath. Anna knelt in front of her. “Are you okay, Nana Rose—” She broke off, catching her mistake.

But Miss Eva smiled and opened her eyes. “So. I am not the only one who gets the confusion, eh?”

“Sorry.” But Anna was relieved by her response. “That's a compliment, you know. 'Cause my Nana Rose is—
was
the best person in the whole wide world.” And suddenly she was crying, sobbing with her face pressed into Miss Eva's lap.

“You miss her. I know,” Miss Eva murmured, rubbing Anna's back just like Nana Rose used to do.

Anna nodded, wiping her wet face against Miss Eva's pretty embroidered coat. “I want to live with her forever. Not with my father.”

“
Ja.
I know,
Liebchen
. I want to live with my family, both of my families. Mutti
und
Papa
und
Karl. And my Paul
und
Paulie. But . . .” She trailed off and her hand stilled on Anna's back. “But those are two different lives I lived. And they are both over.”

Anna raised her head, rubbing the last of her tears on the end of her muffler. “What about Karl? He's not over. He's waiting for you in Ennis, isn't he?”

She saw the sudden confusion come over Miss Eva's face. The fear in her foggy blue eyes. “
Ja
. In Ennis.
Ja
.”

But Anna was not reassured by her words. Something wasn't right. Miss Eva got mixed up about soldiers and where she was. What if she was mixed up about Karl? And Ennis, too? She was a German person and now she lived in Arkansas. What if she had never lived in Ennis at all? What if she was mixed up, and lost?

With a shaky breath Anna pushed to her feet. Maybe she was confused. But maybe not. “Well,” she began, gnawing on her lower lip. “In case he's not home when we get there . . . maybe you can come and stay with me.” And if her father said no, then maybe she could just go home with Miss Eva, back to her house in Arkansas.

Fortified by that possibility, Anna scanned the massive train station. “Look, there's the bathrooms. Let's go there first. Then we can go sit down and have a nice breakfast. Okay?”

Miss Eva smiled and lifted a hand to Anna's cheek. “You're a good girl, Anna. A good girl.”

T
OM
watched as the train emptied. More than once his gaze riveted on a girl who could be Anna. The right age. The right coloring. But what was the right coloring? Her mother's dark, Sicilian beauty, or his pale, Nordic look? He didn't know.

He was the only single man waiting on the platform, though, so he was counting on her searching him out.

Only no little girl looked twice at him. Instead they walked beside parents and siblings, or ran enthusiastically into the open arms of other waiting adults.

Where was she?

He approached a conductor. “I'm expecting my daughter on this train. Anna Spano? Ten years old, and traveling alone?”

The man shot him a doubting look. “Ten years old and traveling alone? We don't allow that, mister. Gotta be thirteen. Otherwise she needs a responsible adult with her.”

Damn it all to hell.
Tom looked over his shoulder at the passenger groups heading onto the brightly lit station. “Her mother didn't say anything about someone traveling with her.”

“And you didn't see her get off?”

“No.”

“You sure you got the right train?”

“Yeah.” Turning away, Tom felt his heart thump in rising panic. Where the hell was she? Had Carrie changed her mind? Or had she told him the wrong time?

He pulled out his phone and punched in Carrie's number. After three rings it went to voice mail. But as he was about to speak, call waiting signaled an incoming call. Carrie.

“She's not on the train!” He barked the words out before she said a thing. “Where is she?”

“I put her on the train just like I told you,” Carrie bit back at him. “If she's not there, then ask the train people, not me.”

Tom couldn't believe the lack of concern in her voice. “Good God, Carrie! Aren't you worried about her? Even a little?”

“Like I told you, I did my ten years with her. The rest is on you.” And with that she hung up.

Beyond him the conductor's gaze sharpened, and when Tom just stared at his phone, the man stepped nearer. “Ex-wife?”

Tom shook his head. “Sort of.” He stared at the man. “She got on in Texarkana. But she's not here. What do I do? How do I find her?”

“Come on,” the man said. “We need to talk to security. They'll contact the security offices at every stop between here and there. If she's at any of those stations we'll find her.”

“And if she's not?” Tom asked, a sick fear settling in his gut.

The conductor frowned as they both hurried into the station. “Then we post an Amber Alert.”

S
OMEHOW
Anna and Miss Eva managed to miss their connection. They'd eaten breakfast and had what Miss Eva called a standing-up bath in the ladies' room. Then they made their way back down the long boarding platform only to realize they'd gone down the same wind-tunnel platform they'd arrived from, not the platform for their new train. By the time they struggled to the right platform, the train to Ennis had left. Gasping for breath, Miss Eva leaned heavily on Anna.

“Darn.” Anna looked up at Miss Eva. “Now we have to wait for the next train to Ennis.” She used to take the city bus with Nana Rose sometimes, so she figured that, like buses, another train would soon come along. “I'll go ask when it's coming, okay? You wait here.”

“No. You stay with me. Or . . . or I will go with you. I told your mother I watch over you.”

“It's just over there. See? Where it says information. You can watch me the whole time.” She steered Miss Eva to the nearest vacant seat. “I'll be right back.”

Anna felt grown up and important as she made her way to the information desk. When she got to there she turned and waved at Miss Eva. But even though the old woman was looking straight at Anna, she didn't seem to see her. At least she didn't wave back.

Maybe she needed glasses, like Nana Rose.

At the counter, the woman smiled at Anna. “May I help you, hon?”

“Yes, ma'am. My . . . my grandmother and I missed our train. To Ennis. We went to the wrong boarding platform.”

“I see. And where is your grandmother?”

“There.” Anna pointed. “The lady with white hair and the pretty gray coat with all the embroidery on it.”

“Ah, yes. And it's just the two of you traveling together?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Anna kept a determined smile on her face. “Can you tell me when the next train to Ennis is?”

The woman's gaze flitted from Anna to Miss Eva, then finally settled back on Anna. “Let me check.” She focused on her computer screen. “Not until tonight at seven fifteen, arriving in Ennis at one thirty-two tomorrow morning. Do you need to notify anyone about your delay? Your parents maybe?”

“No. Miss—Grandma Eva will call her brother and let him know. We're going to his house for Christmas.” She smiled brightly at the woman. She didn't know why she felt like she had to hide the truth about her relationship with Miss Eva. She worried, though, that attention from people Miss Eva didn't know would upset her. Better to just get on board the next train and get to Ennis.

“All right, then,” the information lady said. “Seven fifteen tonight. Platform four. Do you want me to write it down for you?”

“No, thank you. I'll remember.”

“Okay, then. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Anna replied. Then she turned and skipped back toward Miss Eva, like she was the most carefree little girl in the whole wide world. “We have to stay here until tonight,” she told her, relating the details.

“
Ach
. All day to sit. Well then, it is not so bad. I get some more coffee
und
we sit in that cafeteria with the television. Okay?”

“Okay.”

But there was only so much television they could watch. Anna stared at other kids going by with their parents and brothers and sisters. None of them were traveling alone, like her. None of them looked scared about what would happen when they got to where they were going. They all knew there would be someone waiting with hugs and happy cries about how tall they were or how cute. A pair of twin girls younger than her had twin missing teeth, and Anna stared greedily after them, wondering how many aunts and uncles and cousins would sing that song about wanting two front teeth for Christmas.

Would her father be glad to see her? She chewed on her lower lip. Probably not. Did he even know she was coming? With a gasp she realized that he was expecting her on the earlier train. What would he do when she wasn't there? Slumping in her seat, she kicked at the table leg. Why didn't her mother write down his telephone number?

“Stop that, Paulie.”

Anna looked up at Miss Eva. “I'm not Paulie. I'm Anna.”

As if startled, Miss Eva blinked, then managed a smile. “What an old silly I am. Of course you are, Anna. It's just . . . when my Paulie was little he had hair the same color as yours, blond and silky.”

“Did you and Paulie and your husband always live in Arkansas?”

“No. My husband, he is a soldier, so we move many times. After he stops being the soldier, that's when we go to live there.”

“So Paulie had to change schools a lot?”

“
Ja
, but after, oh, sixth grade, we finally stay in the same place.”

Anna began kicking the chair leg again. “I don't want to go to a new school.” When Miss Eva patted her knee, Anna stilled her foot, then sighed. “I won't know anybody.”

“
Ja
. But you make new friends. I know you will.”

“Maybe . . .” Anna stretched the word out. “But what about my old friends? Do you have any friends from when you were a little girl?”

Miss Eva frowned and stared across the wide station hall. “No.”

“No? None at all?”

“You are too young to understand.” The old woman shook her head. “It was very different then. When I leave my village I am only fifteen. And then after the war, I leave Germany and I never go back.” She rubbed absently at her chest. “And then I work in Amsterdam until I meet my Paul and we get married and we come to America and have Paulie. I make new friends. Good friends. And so will you.”

Anna digested that for a moment. “What about Karl?”

“Karl?” She gave Anna a hard look. “What about him?”

Anna hesitated. “He's your brother, right?”

“Ja.”

“Well, does he have old friends from Germany?”

An odd expression came over the old woman's face, a blankness, like a fog floating up and circling around her. It made Anna nervous. Why did talking about Karl always make Miss Eva get that confused look in her eyes? That lost, panicky look?

“Karl,” Miss Eva began, only to drift away without finishing her thought. Then she began to cry, a slow, silent weeping as she stared off at nothing.

Anna's hands tightened on the chair arms. Miss Eva was sad, and Anna didn't know how to make her not sad.

Miss Eva took a heavy breath and blew it out. She fumbled in her pocket before drawing out a handkerchief with yellow embroidered trim and blotting her eyes. “Karl said the Madman wanted to change Germany, and the people, also, mostly by using fear. He warned us, though, that the fear would turn the people mad, too. Mad with hate.”

She paused to take a steadying breath, then studied Anna with sad eyes. “They say we must never forget. But I think it is better that children like you never have to know about such madness.”

“Nana Rose told me not to look at the TV about the airplanes that crashed into those buildings. She didn't want any children to see. And the teachers, too, they didn't want to talk about it at first. But us kids, we talked about it anyway. Allison Green said her uncle was in one of those buildings, and her cousins don't have a daddy anymore.”

Miss Eva stared up at the television mounted on a shelf near the ceiling. “
Ja
, the TV tells everything these days. We don't have the TV when I am a girl, so at first we don't know anything that goes on outside our village. But then we start to know things. Bad things. Even then, though, we don't know the worst things. And always we hope and pray. Oh, how much we pray that it will get better. That it will be over and there will be no more war. That Karl
und
Papa will come home to us.”

“But they never came back?” Anna asked, her voice small, like when she whispered to Nana Rose in church. She was afraid of Miss Eva's answer even though she already knew what it would be.