As Easy as Falling Off the Face of the Earth Read Free Page A

trains come along, and would a train stop and pick up someone waving their arms? He didn’t think so. Would a train stop if the engineer saw a dead body near the tracks? Maybe the engineer would tell someone. But maybe he would be looking the other way.
    The track split into two tracks now. That could be a good sign.
    His stomach made the sound effect for a cartoon character hurtling through outer space in a spiral trajectory. The bones in his legs were softening into rubber bands. His forearms were covered with tiny scratches that were more painful than they looked.
    Ry felt a sudden trickling from his nose, and then a flowing. He turned his head and lifted his arm to wipe it on the sleeve of his T-shirt and saw that it was blood. His nose was bleeding. Lifting the hem of his T-shirt and pinching his nose shut with it, he plodded along, breathing through his mouth, checking every few minutes to see if the bleeding had stopped.
    The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, shifting its strategy from beating down on his head and shoulders to blinding him. Ry started over to the river again and, without intending to, found himself sitting down halfway there. Heloosened the laces on his boots and then, without intending to, found that he was lying flat on his back. A large bird traced a silent circle high above. Was it a vulture, or a hawk? He wondered if he looked edible. He should not fall asleep out in the open. He was tired, though.
     
     

     
     

     
    Vultures probably went by the smell. Of something rotting.
    “It’s blood,” he said to the vulture, referring to his T-shirt, “but I’m not dead.” Still, maybe he should roll over closer to that tree. He was too tired to roll. He didn’t want to.
    He pictured seasons going by as he lay there. Autumn leaves, covering him. They would have to blow over from those trees; the wind would have to be just right. Then the snows would cover him. By that time he would be picked clean. A skeleton, like the little creature by the river, now in his pocket. Probably some shreds of clothing would remain, fluttering in the frigid gusts of air. The little skull would lie next to his femur. Rest in peace.
    The air had given up some of its heat. That was nice. A soft breeze floated over Ry’s closed eyelids. He dreamed he was lying on a bed. A huge bed; he couldn’t find the edges of it when he reached with his hands or his toes, but not a very comfortable one. Hard and lumpy. He must be in a motel room, because he became aware that the bed had a vibrating massage feature. Ry had heard about this, but he had neverseen one before. There was a metal box with a slot to put quarters in, to make it go. He was surprised at how loud it was, though—the loudness was canceling out most of the relaxingness. There was also a jerkiness to it, a stop-and-start irregularness, like trying to sleep when your neighbor was cutting up logs with a chain saw. He examined the metal box to see if he could adjust the setting, turn it down, but there were no knobs or dials, just the slot for quarters.
    Then he sat up and opened his eyes.
    A freight train was rolling by. It seemed to be slowing down; the sound of the steel wheels reached him in gently lurching waves as one by one the boxcars and tankers flowed along before him.
    Ry thought he saw two figures, moving shadows, through the open door of a boxcar, and he saw that here was an opportunity for rescue. A way to shortcut his long hike. But the silhouettes gave him the creeps, too. And besides, most of the boxcar doors were shut.
    He was on his feet now. He watched uncertainly for a time. The train seemed to be going slower and slower, slowing down to a complete. Stop.
    Directly before him, a short set of metal steps led up to a metal mesh door in the metal mesh walls of a car carrier. If they hadn’t stopped so directly before him, beckoninghim, he probably wouldn’t have climbed on. But there they were. As if under a spell, he walked to them and