The Weight of the Last Carriage

In the longest version, the train had been arriving for seven years.

Each morning another carriage appeared behind the last. The rails lay straight; the train curved away into weather nobody at Gristlewick could identify. Its timetable gave a departure but left the destination blank. Someone had pencilled in “elsewhere”. This was considered sufficient for several winters.

Then the last carriage came.

It was small. Its windows were dark. Nothing before it could move.

Drelm tested the rail and waited. Nubble stood at the crossing. In the story, everyone who had ever missed a train gathered behind the threshold, carrying the luggage they had meant to take.

There are versions in which Drelm pushed until the hills changed position. They are popular at a distance from the yard. Anyone who has worked beside a coupling is likely to tell it differently.

Drelm leaned once. The carriage did not move.

From inside came a knock.

The yard had been full of advice until then. After the knock, even the advice stopped.

Nobody agrees who opened the door. What stood on the step was no larger than a travelling case and was wrapped in a coat with the lining turned out. It held a ticket so worn that the destination had become a hole.

It had been told to wait until somebody came for it.

The offices were consulted. No one could find a service responsible for coming.

Nubble remained at the crossing. Drelm remained beside the carriage. The small figure looked from one to the other and, after a long time, put a foot on the ground.

That was when the train moved.

Not far. Only enough for the coupling to go slack.

By morning there was one ordinary rake of carriages in the yard, and work to be done. The figure in the coat had gone. The ticket was never entered among the lost property.

The extravagant tellers say Drelm pushed a train out of the past. The careful ones say the load could not be moved until somebody was allowed to stop travelling.

Both leave out the same thing.

For the rest of that night, Drelm stood beside an empty carriage with the door held open.