“Oh,” said Stella, “I like journeys. I have taken lots of journeys, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a necessary journey. Most of my journeys have been family journeys, and that means we all go together in the car and my mother drives, and my father sleeps, and Frank navigates. When we are on family journeys, we eat in restaurants, and I always order a hot dog and Frank doesn’t order anything at all because he brings a supply of peanut butter sandwiches with him. He says that the peanut butter sandwich is infallible. Do you like peanut butter, Baby Lincoln?”

“I do like peanut butter,” said Baby.

She felt a little niggle of worry. She realized that she had not packed anything to eat. She moved her suitcase from one hand to the other. She felt The Inimitable Spigot slide around in the near emptiness.

“The thing about our journeys,” said Stella, “is that Frank is always the navigator. Always. I would like to hold the map sometimes. I would like to navigate. But I never get to.”

“I understand,” said Baby. “Eugenia will never allow me to hold the map either.”

“Do you have a map?” said Stella. “We could look at it together.”

“I do not have a map,” said Baby. She felt another ping of worry.

“Well, where are you going?” said Stella.

“Right now?” said Baby.

“Right now,” said Stella.

“I am headed to the train station,” said Baby.

“I will walk with you,” said Stella. She put her hand in Baby’s hand. “Okay?”

“That would be lovely,” said Baby.

At the train station, the ticket seller said, “Headed where?”

Stella said, “Her name is Baby Lincoln, and she is on a necessary journey.”

“Uh-huh,” said the ticket seller. “Headed where?”

“I’m not entirely certain,” said Baby.

The ticket seller was holding a cheese sandwich in both hands. His name tag said LAWRENCE.

Lawrence looked at Baby. He looked at Stella. He sighed. He put the sandwich down on the counter. The cheese inside the sandwich was orange and there were several thick slices of it. It looked delicious. Baby wished that she had thought to make herself a cheese sandwich before leaving home.

Lawrence reached out and picked up a leaflet from the display in front of him.

“Schedule,” he said, handing it to Baby. “Pick a destination.”

“Thank you very much,” said Baby.

“Let me see, let me see,” said Stella.

They stepped away from the ticket counter and Baby handed Stella the schedule.

“Ohhhh,” said Stella. “It’s a chart. I’m really good with math and charts. Last year, Mrs. Wilkinson said that I was a true math whiz. Has anybody ever called you a true math whiz, Baby Lincoln?”

“Not that I can recall,” said Baby.

Eugenia was the sister who had a head for figures. Or at least that was what Eugenia said.

Stella studied the schedule. “How much money do you have, Baby Lincoln? You can go to Calaband Darsh if you have enough money. Doesn’t Calaband Darsh sound like a good place to go?”

Calaband Darsh sounded like a very grand place, a shooting-star kind of place. Baby opened her purse and took out her wallet. She handed the wallet to Stella and watched as Stella counted the money inside.

“Okay,” said Stella. She handed the wallet back to Baby. She consulted the train schedule. “Let’s see.”

It turned out that Baby didn’t have enough money to get to Calaband Darsh.

She had enough money to get to Fluxom.

“Fluxom?” said Baby.

“Fluxom,” said Stella.

Fluxom did not sound like a shooting-star kind of place at all.

But Baby went bravely back to the ticket counter and spoke to Lawrence. She said, “One ticket for Fluxom, please.”

And after that, there was no turning back.

Baby boarded the train. Stella stood on the platform and waved good-bye.

The train lurched forward. Baby watched Stella get smaller and smaller until, finally, she disappeared altogether.

And then Baby Lincoln was alone, on a train, on a necessary journey.