by K. M. Tolan
“I think you’re owed a miracle, Mom. Please, come out. Katy can’t leave the tracks or they’ll disappear again.”
She stiffened and stepped back, the mother he didn’t want to remember creasing her face into harsh lines. “Nothing but stories. Shame on you, Vincent. Shame on you. All this is a lie. Just go.”
Heart sinking, he tried another tack. Vincent pumped his arm, hoping Sammy’s eyes were sharp. Two blasts from the Teapot’s steam whistle tooted over the field. “That sound like a story, Mom?”
She craned her neck. “Who’s out there?”
“Katy and Samantha like I said. We can’t stay long. We’ve a lost train to find for a friend of ours. You coming or not?”
“That your father’s cane?”
“No. I made this one. Dad ever tell you what a gandy dancer is?”
She pursed her lips, his mother’s eyes focused on the field behind him. “Stories. All right, I’ll come this once.” Her voice shook, but not with anger. “You don’t disappoint me now. You hear, Vincent?”
“Yes, Mom. Watch the brambles.”
Vincent knew when best to keep his mouth shut, and leading his mother out into the field was one of those times. He had no idea what was going on behind her fixated stare when she saw Teapot resting on a set of gleaming rails. Maybe it was like when he first rediscovered those tracks, fearful they would vanish with the next step before he got to them.
The little steamer, rebuilt courtesy of union workers in Lima, still resembled its namesake. The rotund black boiler was larger, but retained the same bright copper and brass piping as girthed the original design. A custom-built red caboose completed the retrofit. Vincent could see Samantha peering out the window. His wife nervously held a cupped hand to her lips as if expecting her new mother-in-law to bolt any second.
His mother walked right up to Teapot and ran her fingers along the railing surrounding the tiny cabin. Her breath came in halting gasps.
Vincent rushed to support her as she collapsed against the bench seat. “Mom!”
“What’ve I done? Vinny, what’ve I done to you? All these years.” Her words sagged with dread.
“Are behind us,” he shuddered out, feeling her reach out to trace the welling tears on his cheeks. “I…” He couldn’t finish, his mind fleeing back to the last time those comforting fingers caressed him. Her feather-light touch seeped into the fractured memories of the mother he’d lost so long ago, restoring a mirror he could now stare into without flinching.
“I’ve wronged you, son.” She drew him to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“We all are, Momma,” a small voice added.
His mother gave a start, turning her head toward the sound. “Katy? My little girl?”
Steam fluttered and hissed from atop the boiler’s escape valve, flowing down the curved side in a vaporous cascade. Mist coalesced into the child haunting his memories, and no doubt his mother’s as well. The girl held out her arms. “You can still touch me.”
Vincent intercepted his mother’s stricken expression. “She’s not a ghost, Mom. Dad told you about steam children, remember? Just like I told you about these tracks. If I wasn’t lying, then he wasn’t either, right?”
His mother hesitantly held out a hand. “Baby?”
Freedom’s fingers solidified to close over hers. “Momma.”
“You’re warm,” his mother observed with a wondering voice.
“Of course, Momma. I’m also all grown up now.” The little girl faded into an expanding cloud.
“Katy, please don’t go,” his mother sobbed, her hand fruitlessly closing on swirling vapors.
“I won’t.” The steam drew in, condensing into near-solid form much as Vincent remembered his sister doing at the Awakening party. Freedom stood in her lace dress and top hat, her grin caught between mischief and hopeful acceptance.
She stepped forward to join in a three-way embrace, nearly as substantial as the human she once was. “Would you like to meet my new sister? I was her maid of honor.”
Vincent gestured back toward the caboose where Samantha poked her head around the rear porch. “Sammy. Come join the rest of the family.”
About The Author
K M Tolan is a science fiction and fantasy author with six books published through Burst Books (Champagne Books SF/F imprint). His first two novels in the “Blade Dancer” series were both finalists in the EPIC E-book Awards for Science Fiction. “Blade Dancer” was accepted into the Cushing Memorial Library and Archives at Texas A&M. “Rogue Dancer” received his publisher’s award for best novel of the year. Mr. Tolan is a software engineer, a combat veteran, and lives near Austin, Texas.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Epilogue
About The Author
