Page 141 of Whistle

What struck her was how quiet it was. Other than the rustling of some leaves in trees that were still standing, there was barely a sound. When she closed her car door, several blackbirds she’d not previously noticed took flight from a nearby yard, making her heart skip a beat.

She stooped to get under the downed tree, then walked slowly toward the downtown stretch. Even though there was no one around, she did not feel safe. What if another moose showed up? Would that dog with the rabbit in its mouth see her and consider a change in its dinner plans? Annie’d never been much for guns, but she wouldn’t have said no to one now if someone offered.

She found herself standing in front of the Lucknow Diner, the windows all smashed in, the door open. She took a step inside, shook her head in wonder as she stared at the empty stools and booths, cushions ripped apart, stuffing pulled out by birds and animals looking for material to make their nests. A sign above the counter readyou can’t beat our coffee!

Annie could have gone for a cup right about now.

She emerged from the diner, looked about. A dry cleaner, an optometrist, a card shop, a florist.

It all seemed strangely familiar.

And then it hit her. This was how Charlie had arranged and labeled the buildings on his train setup. Everything was in the same place here as it had been on the floor of Annie’s studio.

Charlie had been building Lucknow.

If Charlie was here, she believed he had to be nearby.

“Charlie!” she shouted as loudly as she could, hands around hermouth in a makeshift megaphone. “Charlie, I’m here! It’s your mom!”

Her voice echoed down the deserted street.

And then she saw something that was, at least for this street at this time, incongruous.

An illuminated storefront window, across the main street from the diner. Something in the display area was moving. Annie looked up, read the sign above the window:

choo-choo’strains.

Unlike the abandoned businesses, this storefront looked as well kept as it would have the day it opened. No missing letters in its name, the sidewalk out front swept, the window glass not only intact but clean.

Slowly, she crossed the empty street, and as she got closer she saw that there was a train running continuously on a loop of track on the other side of the glass. In the window, a lit sign:

open.

Fifty-Three

Annie was trembling.

This was the place to which she had been summoned. This was where she knew Charlie had to be. She was sure of it. He was inside this shop.

And he was not alone.

Someone—something—was here with him, and the only way she was going to get Charlie back was to go through this door and confront whatever it was.

She walked up to the door, turned the handle, and pushed it open.

A bell rang, announcing her arrival. As she stepped into the shop, someone said:

“Ah! At last! I was afraid you’d never get here.”

The words were spoken by a short man standing behind the cash register. He wore a silly engineer’s cap and a vest covered with the patches of numerous railroad companies. He was flashing a warm smile and there was something of a twinkle in his eye, as if in his spare time he moonlighted as a leprechaun. But despite his offbeat, quirky—even nerdy—appearance, there was an air of menace about him. It wafted off him like a bad smell.

“Where’s my son?” Annie said, pushing down her fear and struggling to fill her voice with authority.

He raised his palms in a gesture of reassurance. “Please, please, come in and let me—”

“Where is my son?” she said, her voice rising. “Where is Charlie? Tell me right now, or God help me I’ll take that stupid hat off your head and shove it down your goddamn throat.”

The man’s smile grew smaller and the eye twinkle vanished. “If you don’t show some civility, you’ll never know.”

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