The Moons of Koda

By Fran Alongi

Contemporary fantasy dealing with mysticism and the loss of loved ones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781619279223

Book preview

Elk

ONE

They heard it again as it drifted in from the vast openness of the Great Plain.

A wailing, lonely sound.

The whistle of a train… long and sad and far, far away.

It was the third night in a row now, and each night it had sounded later than the night before. The first time was right after sundown. The second time at about nine at night. Tonight it had been exactly eleven when they’d heard it. Even during the day, when the prairie was bright and quiet in the sunlight, the two children wondered and talked about it, reliving over and over again the feeling it gave them. It disturbed them and called to them at the same time. And stranger still was the fact that Jack and Cindy seemed to be the only two people who could hear it.

They’d been so insistent that first night. So much so that their mother, Emily, on her way to work the next morning in their horse-drawn wagon, had stopped several times to ask neighbors if they’d heard what sounded like a train whistle in the distance?

Why, no came the answer each time. Had she?

No, she admitted time and again. Not a thing. But her children were so sure.

Which way did it come from?

From the direction of the old freight tracks by their description, she would answer.

Everyone just shook their head. Those tracks hadn’t been used for years. Not as long as anyone except the real old-timers could remember. They probably weren’t even fit to hold an old hand car much less a train. Besides, in summer now, the air on the plains was quiet at night. A sound like the whistle of a train would carry for many miles. They should have heard it just as easily as her children. But they swore they’d heard nothing. It was the same whomever she asked. And asking had only made her late for work.

Emily Pearson was a widow. She worked hard to keep the three of them going. In summer she took in washing. All year round she did housework for the wealthy people in the town of Clarion, just two miles away. Sometimes she served as a maid at dinner parties to earn extra money. On those nights she had to stay in town well past her children’s bedtime. Those were the nights she dreaded. Jack and Cindy had proved themselves self-reliant and resourceful in the years since her husband had died. Still, leaving a ten year old boy and an eight year old girl alone at night was a real cause for worry. But Emily had to work any job that came her way.

On this night, though, Emily was home. Tired from long hours of work, she went to sleep peacefully, knowing that she was close to her rambunctious offspring and they were safe. The evening coolness helped the weary woman sleep so deeply that she never heard them creep from their beds, out of the house, and into the darkness.

Emily had indulged them the first two nights. Letting them go to the edge of the corral, even at nine o’clock, to listen. But tonight she’d lost patience, demanding that they stop their game and admit that it was just their imaginations. Cindy and Jack knew it was useless at that point to hold out, so they’d gone to bed quietly.

But not to sleep, it proved. Clear of the house now, they dashed for the corral. On any other night Bugle, their father’s old hound, might have awakened Emily to let her know what the children were up to. But this time he held silent as he saw them leave. He knew where they were going, and that no harm would come to them. Bugle was very old, and an even older wisdom told him that there was nothing to fear. He had heard the whistle, too. Even though he was almost deaf, it had reached his once-sharp ears and brought him a contentment that had grown deeper each night. He knew the children would be safe, and went back to sleep on his worn blanket by the stove.

Cindy and Jack knew that the animals heard the whistle. From the first night both Bugle and Mariah, their mare, had shown signs of awareness as the strange call filtered in through the darkness.

On the first night, Jack had seen their reactions. Old Bugle had tensed and sat up on the faded blanket where he spent so much time now. For a moment Jack had thought that he would actually rouse himself enough to bay at the unfamiliar sound. But the dog had checked himself, listened for a moment, then stretched out again and fallen peacefully asleep.

That same night Cindy and Jack had run to the rail of the corral to search the distance for the source of their fascination. While they stood there, Mariah had suddenly lifted her head from the trough where she’d been drinking, turned her head in the direction the sound was coming from and pricked up her ears. On the second night she’d stopped to listen again. The two youngsters knew what to expect as they approached her enclosure tonight. Sure enough, Mariah stood in the center of the corral with her ears flickering. The whistle called again, and the mare whinnied softly and bobbed her head in its direction.

Raining down on the corral and the prairie lands that surrounded the little ranch was the bright light of a magnificent full moon, more brilliant and beautiful than any they remembered seeing before. This wondrous light filled the mare’s eyes with a soft glow as she approached the children and reached her head over the top rail to be petted. Together, the three of them stood, listening.

The whistle, again.

Boy, I’ll bet it’s a beauty! Jack exclaimed to his sister. Wouldn’t you love to see the train that makes that sound?

I sure would Cindy answered with enthusiasm, but I thought there weren’t any trains running along that old stretch of tracks anymore. Everyone says there aren’t. How can it be a train?

I don’t know he answered shaking his head, but I’m gonna see for myself. With dancing eyes he turned to his sister, Let’s take Mariah and find out for ourselves. Come on!

Cindy agreed quickly. Then, as an afterthought, she said, But it’s awfully far, Jack. What if Momma wakes up before we get back? She thinks we’re pretending. She’ll be really mad if she finds out!

Jack knew Cindy was right. He thought for a moment, then said, "We don’t have to go all the way there. Once we get to the top of the hill we can see across the plain almost to the base of the mountains. Even if we just go part of the way, with the moon so bright, we should be able to see something."

Alright Cindy agreed, just so we get back before she wakes up.

I promise. I don’t want to worry her either.

He ran into the shed and took Mariah’s bridle off its peg. Racing back to where the little horse stood nuzzling Cindy, he slipped the leather straps over the mare’s nose and ears, making sure the bit set in her mouth properly. Then he threw the reins up and over the mare’s head. She was very gentle tonight and stood quietly while first Cindy then Jack climbed up the rails of the corral and onto her back. They rode to the corral gate. Jack leaned over and untied the rope that held it. Quickly, they were on their way.

All nature seemed in the same gentle mood as Mariah. The very air seemed to welcome them as they clipped along toward the small hill that separated their ranch from the rest of the prairie. Reaching the hilltop they reined in and sat looking across the prairie land that stretched out below.

After less than a mile the terrain leveled off until it reached the distant mountains. In the light of that incredible moon it was a magical sight. Everything - grass, bushes, rocks, and boulders - shimmered as if sprinkled with fairy dust. The moon’s corona reached far out into the night sky. The brilliant halo lit the area immediately around it to a clear bright blue. Farther out, blue slowly darkened to deepest indigo, densely studded with the soft sparkle of uncountable stars. The very center of the show, the silver disk itself, was huge. Its surface features of iridescent mountains, valleys and dark shadows shown distinctly.

It appeared to the children that they could almost reach up, touch it, and feel its rough surface against their fingertips. The light radiating down was so intense it actually felt warm, as if its source was the lunar disk itself instead of the unseen sun. Jack and Cindy sat spellbound.

It’s so bright Jack said, almost feels like daylight.

I know Cindy answered, I can see a lot more than usual tonight. Even more than other full moons.

A gentle breeze brought them the mingled scents of earth and grass. It stirred Mariah’s mane, which caught the moon luster like everything else. The mare turned her head to the east and sniffed the air. She bobbed her head and shifted her weight. Her movements broke the spell of silence.

Softly, Cindy asked, Do you hear anything?

The boy strained for a moment then said, Listen!

Sure enough. There it was again. Two long calls, very far away.

They looked at each other. Jack loosened the reins and, without prodding, Mariah set off slowly down the hill. Once on flat ground she set up an easy gait and kept going. Without guidance, she made for the old tracks.

So, on they rode, through that enchanted landscape. Sights that were common and taken for granted during the day now had an unearthly beauty. Bushes seemed to light up from within. Flowers looked as if they’d been grown on Venus and transplanted to Earth by some friendly interplanetary gardener. The gurgling water of a stream seemed awash with fairy lights. Every step brought new wonders as if some invisible hand pointed this way and that to bring their attention to the delicate shape of a branch or the shining surface of a stone. It looked as though the moon had dressed up the world just to please them. A brilliant, heavenly lamp, it hung in that wondrous canopy lighting their way. Mariah never tired. And with so much to see and be amazed at, they fell into silent appreciation as time and distance flew quickly. They soon left the little hill behind and rode across the plain for a long way. Finally, the mare stopped and would go no further. Wherever they were meant to be, they were there.

There turned out to be a small collection of boulders of varying sizes. Clusters of these large, ancient rocks appeared occasionally on the plain, looking like small islands breaking the surface of a becalmed sea. This group consisted of several smaller stones surrounding two large ones. They stood in such a way that they formed a giant almost circular staircase. Although most were big, the stones had many hand and footholds. So, after tethering Mariah to a nearby bush, the children had little trouble reaching the highest point of the largest rock. It was a perfect lookout point.

The tracks, several hundred yards away, were bathed in bright, silver light. From this distance they could just about make them out.

Abandoned so many years ago, they approached from the northeast at a slight angle, curving slowly until they ran directly west. The section where they straightened out ran right past the spot where Jack and Cindy stood. The several hundred yards between the children and the tracks gave them excellent viewing distance. If there was a train, they should be able to see the entire run it would make through this area.

The straight section of rail ran right through the side of the nearest mountain by virtue of a tunnel that had been dynamited through the solid rock. A wooden, shed-like structure had been built over and around the opening to the tunnel to protect any train going through from possible falling debris. Like the wooden ties of the tracks, though, this too was in a bad state of disrepair and seemed far too flimsy now to do the job it had originally been intended to do.

Once through the first tunnel, the tracks started a gradual climb up into the Rockies, snaking their way along and through with the help of several other dynamited passageways and suspension bridges. The children would be able to watch the train approach from the flat, open land in the east, enter and leave the tunnel, and climb slowly up and around the side of a second, higher, more distant mountain before disappearing from view. Mariah had picked this spot as if she knew its advantages.

Jack and Cindy strained their eyes to the east.

Nothing.

They hadn’t heard the whistle again since they’d left the top of the little hill near home. All through the journey to this spot there’d been nothing.

Some way out from the base of their rocky perch, the intense moonlight enabled them to see a prairie dog stick his head up from his burrow. Cautiously, he came all the way out and settled himself in a sitting position. He remained motionless as his den-mates followed his example. Then they all sat looking at the tracks, as if waiting for the same thing the children were waiting for.

Before long a coyote, looking well-fed this summer, ambled onto the scene. He was farther out from them than the prairie dogs; about half-way between them and the tracks. Sniffing around aimlessly for a while, he suddenly stopped and stood very still - unafraid, but alert. Only the black tip of his fluffy tail moved as it twitched back and forth. Cindy saw that his ears were standing straight up and his wet, sensitive nose quivered.

Jack moved forward to look down at Mariah. She stood at the foot of their lookout rock about twenty feet below them. Her head was held high and her tail swished. She looked and listened, and waited.

Jack’s eyes met Cindy’s. She shrugged at her brother, indicating that she too had noticed the animal’s odd behavior. Wordless, him standing, her sitting just in front of him, they turned their gaze to the eastern horizon. Even though it wasn’t long, the wait seemed endless. Finally, it came again. Strong, clear… exciting.

That’s it Jack breathed, inhaling for what felt like the first time in minutes. He pointed east.

Here she comes.

From beyond their field of vision, tiny at first, the train began to materialize. Like a lazy snake it seemed to take forever stretching its way toward them. Riveted and impatient, the children thought it would never get to where they could see it in enough detail to satisfy them. But each time the whistle blew it was closer. Definitely closer. And the closer it got the less mournful it sounded. The sound that had haunted them, so melancholy in the distance, now trilled like the very call of adventure itself. Train and whistle drew nearer and nearer, and the little silver snake grew and grew until it was as large and as loud as a dragon. It’s approach had seemed slow, but as it came to the end of the curve and started to straighten out, they could see that it was actually traveling very fast.

Jack leaned forward, squinting. He tried hard to see the point where the churning wheels touched the tracks. How rusted old rails held this racing, gleaming giant he couldn’t imagine.

But were they holding it? Straining to see, he noticed that the train seemed somehow suspended just above the tracks. He struggled to verify his impression but there wasn’t time. The train’s trajectory settled onto the straightaway that led into the tunnel. The great machine seemed to touch down, like a landing plane. Its movement, dreamlike until that moment, suddenly exploded into reality. Blurred wheels caught hold of some unseen support, and the train thundered forward into their world.

Whistle screaming with a new and startling intensity, the apparition stretched out its full length and poured down the old track in deadly earnest, a raging flood of power. It roared along, the bullet-like engine and nine cars, glittering metallic, smooth, and brilliant where the moonlight splashed from it. All its length flashed and shimmered. The whole of it vibrated with an energy so intense that, even at this distance, Jack could feel the boulder trembling beneath his feet.

Feeling it too, Cindy reached down and pressed her palm against the rock she crouched on. She listened with her hand as the stone vibrated in rhythm with the engine’s fiery heart. It had the feel of life in it. It made her think of the vast buffalo herds that roamed this area many years ago. The stories about them always told of how the earth shook under their stampeding hooves, much as it did now she imagined. The buffalo had meant life to the Indians of