Page 37 of Leaving the Station

Oakley and I lay in bed for a while longer, letting Washington pass by outside our window. Whenever the train slows, she snuggles

closer to me, and I pull her in.

“We should go back out there,” I whisper to her after a while. “Aya’s probably wondering where we are.”

She groans but stands up, mostly naked. I turn away, and she laughs. “You can watch me get changed,” she says. “If you want.

I mean, you saw me...” Her face reddens, and I continue looking away out of sheer embarrassment for what she might have

said next.

When I turn back around, she’s wearing her turtleneck and pulling her dress over her head.

I shiver as I step out from under the warm blankets, then throw my clothes back on. Before we emerge into the hallway, Oakley

pushes me against the metal door and wraps her arms around me.

“What’s this for?” I ask, laughing.

“You’re just very cute,” she says into my shirt.

I pull her closer before I reluctantly let go, squeezing her hand as we head into the hallway.

It’s the last time we’ll walk from the sleeper car to the observation car to see what’s going on, to spend time with the random,

wonderful people we’ve met on the train. But that thought doesn’t fill me with the same dread that it has in the past. We’ll

get off the train, and maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll still have Oakley. Or at the very least, I’ll have the memories, the party,

the slow dancing.

And I’ll have new things to look forward to as well.

When we step between the cars, someone shouts, “Surprise,” and Oakley and I both startle.

I’m sure they must be trying to surprise someone else, but then I look down, and Aya’s there, smiling up at us.

“Come on,” she says as she guides me and Oakley to the dining car.

The first thing I see is the crowd of people. Then there’s the turkey and the pie and the stuffing laid out over all the tables.

“What’s going on?” I ask, turning to Aya.

She shrugs as she sits at one of the booths and pats the seat across from her, motioning for me and Oakley to sit as well.

When I look up, Clint and Virginia are standing there, hand in hand.

“Aya came to us a couple of hours ago,” Virginia says. “She wanted us all to have a big dinner together, since we’ll be apart

tonight.”

Oakley and I turn to look at Aya.

“You did this?” I ask her.

“I had to do something for you guys since you gave me the best birthday party ever,” she says as she pulls a huge slice of

pie onto her plate and digs in, despite the early hour. “And I didn’t make the turkey, by the way. That was Mike.”

I laugh at the fact that Aya had to clarify that she didn’t cook a turkey on the train, then turn to Mike, who waves awkwardly. Clearly this was going to be used for his Thanksgiving

dinner. I have no idea how he’s kept a turkey from going bad, and honestly, I don’t want to know.

Some things are meant to remain train mysteries.

“You didn’t have to repay us for the party,” I tell Aya. “It was our pleasure.”

Oakley rubs my back, and I lean my head against her shoulder.

“We did,” a voice says from behind me.

I shift in the booth so I can turn around, and Aya’s mom is standing there, hands in her pockets. “Thank you for everything

you’ve done for my daughter,” she says to me and Oakley.

“And you were right.” Nanami directs this part to Oakley, though she glances at Aya as she says it. “I should’ve told Aya

everything from the start.”

“You should’ve,” Oakley says harshly. When I squeeze her hand, she adds, “But, uh, thank you.”

“Aya’s the coolest,” I say to Nanami. “And if you ever need a babysitter in Seattle...”

“Yes!” Aya shouts, bouncing up and down. “Please, please, please, please?”

“I’ll get your number before we leave,” Nanami says, and Aya squeals.

Some of the conductors are here too, along with the kitchen staff. Everyone’s eating and laughing, and it’s like Aya’s party

again, only this time we’re also saying goodbye.

But that’s okay. The goodbyes might not be for forever, or maybe they will be, but either way, I got to meet dozens of strangers

on this trip who I never would’ve met if it wasn’t for the train.

On Monday, all I wanted was to blend into the background, to not be noticed, because I was so uncomfortable with myself. But

I think I accidentally became a main character of this trip, and I’m more than okay with that, because it brought me Oakley,

and everyone else.

Edward comes by after a minute and slides into the booth next to Aya. “Thank you so much for your help on our voyage, Assistant

Conductor Aya,” he says to her, and she beams.

“You’re welcome, Conductor.” She pulls a piece of paper out from under her butt. “I made this for you.” She hands him the

butt-warmed paper and he takes it like she just gave him a priceless gem. “It’s a picture of us!”

For a second, Edward doesn’t react, but then his face reddens, and he bursts into tears.

Aya stares at us with her eyes wide until Edward wipes his cheeks and says, “No one’s ever made me anything like this.” He

folds it into quarters and puts it in his front pocket. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Can we see?” Oakley asks, and Edward hands the picture to us.

It’s made from colored pencils, and although Aya has many talents, it’s clear that drawing is not one of them. The two figures in the foreground are supposed to be her and Edward, and they’re holding hands. Then, behind them, are two other figures, standing close.

“Who are these people?” Oakley asks Aya, pointing to the figures in the background.

“That’s you and Zoe!” she says. “I wanted to make a drawing of all of my best train friends, and I wanted to show you two

together since you’re always holding hands and stuff!”

And now it’s my turn to cry. The tears come fast and furious, and Edward and I are blubbering messes, and Oakley pulls me

close to her and she’s tearing up a little too.

“You guys are weird,” Aya says as she watches the three of us sob from her shitty artwork.

“All right, folks,” the conductor says over the loudspeaker. “This is it. We’re making our final stop at King Street Station

in Seattle in approximately twenty minutes. The local weather is forty-five degrees and foggy, and the time is eleven a.m.”

Then she clears her throat and adds, “It’s been a pleasure having you on the Empire Builder. We hope you’ve had an enjoyable

experience, and please , for the love of all things holy, do not forget your bags on the train. It’ll be a bigger pain for you than it’ll be for

us.”

“Well, I guess it’s time to dig in,” Clint says from the table next to us when the announcement is done.

Oakley grabs a slice of pie, but I just stare around the car, marveling at all of these people who wanted to have one last meal together.

There are Elaine and Alberto/Bert. Elaine is laughing and bouncing as she talks to Jeff.

There are Virginia and Clint, sharing a slice of pie.

There’s the conductor who held the train for us, holding hands with one of the waiters.

Everyone is glowing, peacefully eating and talking in the soft morning light.

I’m never going to know everything about all of these people. I don’t even know half of their names. But they’re the main

characters of their own lives. They have people they love and people who love them.

Everyone here is someone , which sounds silly but feels like a revelation. They are their own worlds, with their own labels and lives and identities

that I will never know and never need to.

“Should we go pack up?” Oakley asks when she’s done with her slice of pie.

I nod and we both get up, but we don’t leave until we’ve hugged everyone—Edward and Aya and Clint and Virginia.

“Thank you,” I whisper to Virginia as she holds me tightly.

“Don’t thank me, kid,” she says. “This has been one of the best train rides of my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” she tells me. “Maybe we’ll see you on next year’s trip?”

When she first told me about doing this ride every year, I couldn’t understand it. But now I do. Now I want to come back.

Even if you do the same thing over and over, you can find new people, new places. Even if it’s just for a few days, they can

change the course of your life.

“Maybe,” I tell her, smiling.

I hold Oakley’s hand as we walk back to her bedroom. But before we get there, she stops me at our regular spot in the observation

car, then tilts her head up to kiss me.

Her hands are on my waist, and I smile down at her. “What was that for?”

“I just wanted to kiss you here,” she says. “Where it all started.”

“Well, technically it started in the dining car of an entirely different train.”

“Dang,” she says, making a big show of looking angry at herself. “Should we go back there and make out?”

I roll my eyes and wrap her into me and kiss the top of her head. “Absolutely not.”

When we’re in her room, she sits me down on the bed and then pushes me into the pillow, flattening her body against mine.

“When are we going to get to do this again?” I ask her after a few minutes.

“Soon,” she says with so much certainty. “My parents decided they wanted to spend Thanksgiving with my cousins in Tacoma,

so they’re meeting me here. I’ll head back to Ritzville with them after that and stay for a few weeks but then... who knows?”

“Yeah,” I say, but I’m worried now.

What if she doesn’t leave? What if she decides to return to the Church after all?

She must see the panic on my face because she says, “Zoe, I want you to be part of my life.”

I wipe my eyes and nod, leaning into her chest. “Are you scared?” I ask quietly. “That you might not get your eternal family if you leave?”

Oakley pushes me off her and stares at me intensely. “I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“That train has left the station,” I tell her, and she smirks. But then her face gets serious.

“I want you, Zoe,” she says. “Maybe not everything has to be eternal. And right now, I want you so badly. It might not be

forever, but nothing has to be.”