A TRITE-ISH INTERRUPTION

 

Emily Parker was a Trite with a measure of qualities; the greatest of them being her stubbornness. With a strut in her step, and a shout tucked into her throat that she had saved for the appropriate moment, she trudged through the Waterloo snow in ankle-high boots not at all appropriate for the measure of slush on the sidewalks. With a huff and a hoot and a frothy cough, Emily made her way to where her dear friend, Helen Bell, had once told her a train had visited.

When Emily came past the brick shops, she studied the empty lane and the farmers’ fields a pinch and a dip beyond the city. She spun once. Then she turned a time again, slower.

“Hello?” she called into the space.

The wind whistled its amusement as it sailed through the shops’ alleys—the only response poor Emily Parker received at all. And so, she cleared her throat a time again.

“Hello?! Winter people?” she shouted, louder this time. “I know you’re around here!” The Trite tightened her coat’s collar, clutching it to herself. “Invisible-Winter-people? I need a ride, please!”

A snort echoed down the lane from a pair of youthful Trites passing through, and a blot of warmth found Emily’s cheek.

“I’m not crazy!” she called at them. “I’m doing something important, for your information!” Emily tightened her coat again as the Trites shuffled off with a quicker step.

Emily sighed. “How do I open my eyes to see you wintery people?” she muttered to the wind.

“Easy.”

Emily jumped when a voice came from behind her. She twisted, finding no one.

When the voice returned, it was at her back again, as though it had moved. It came against her ear, with an accent thicker than any she knew—almost indecipherable.

“Blink twice,” it said.

Emily stilled.

With a double flap of her lashes, the Trite felt the cold air shift, changing directions. She turned toward the voice and was struck to find a young man looking at her through husky, turquoise eyes, fashioning a proper jacket and a sleek top hat. A silver chain dangled at his hip, and he pulled out a pocket watch to check the time.

“You’re a pinch late for your reservation, Miss Parker. But I think I can make up the time,” he said in that same thick drawl. But Emily had hardly heard the fellow; her eyes were fixed on something else.

For, behind the young man sat the most marvellous train.