Free Last Car to Annwn Station by Michael Merriam Page A

and she doesn’t complain.
    Today she looked at me and I saw something behind her eyes. She’s always seemed blank before, but something must have happened after the last time they refreshed the magic holding her together. It was the worst feeling I’ve ever had, looking into Chrysandra’s eyes. I wanted to crawl under my covers and cry, but I didn’t. I just asked for the book I’ve been reading her. She handed it to me, and her fingers touched mine. I knew for sure then. I knew the sickening truth.
    She’s still in there.
    Jill smiled down at Mae, pleased with the way the evening had turned out. The two women were waiting for the bus back to the townhouse they now shared. Jill had been adamant that they go out on a real date. Mae had tried to talk her out of it, saying that being forced out of her job that morning, no matter how temporary, put her in no mood to be good company. Jill had waved aside her objections, telling her that sitting home brooding would do no one any good. She’d enthusiastically pushed the idea until Mae relented, and they’d had an enjoyable night of dinner and theatre.
    “Thanks,” Mae said.
    “See, I told you going out would lift your spirits.”
    Mae laughed and nudged Jill with her hip. “Don’t make me run you into the boards.”
    Jill put her hand on the back of the bench they stood by to steady herself. “Run me into the boards?”
    “Hockey.”
    “Are you trying to tell me that a little slip of a thing like you played hockey?”
    Mae laughed aloud. “Oh, hell yes. I was an only child living with my bachelor father. In Minnesota. He taught me all the important things. How to field dress a deer, how to fish for walleye and how to play hockey. You want to hit the ice?”
    “No,” Jill said, shaking her head. “I can barely stand on skates and go forward, never mind doing anything fancy.”
    “I’ll be gentle with you.”
    “I’ve heard that before,” Jill said with a laugh. “Are you still a fan?”
    “Yeah. I try to see the Wild play a few times a year. What about you?”
    “Men in padded armor with sticks, on ice, engaging in ritual violence? It works for me.” Jill peered down the street, looking for the bus. The cold was starting to penetrate her coat, and she wanted to be home, warm and snug with Mae.
    “You want to go on a real adventure?” Mae said.
    Jill frowned. Mae had a manic look in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
    Mae grabbed Jill by the hand and ran, pulling them both into the middle of the street as passing motorists honked their horns and yelled curses at them. Jill tugged Mae’s arm in a futile attempt to make her stop.
    “Mae! Are you crazy?” Jill screamed.
    Mae stopped for a moment, letting a big sport utility vehicle pass her, then leaped up slightly, pulling Jill along with her and forcing Jill to leap as well. She gasped, feeling a jolt as she landed on something solid. A floorboard, she was looking down at the floor of a vehicle.
    Mae turned to her, face flushed with excitement.
    “Ten cents each, please.”
    Jill stared around at the impossible interior of an antique streetcar as Mae fished around in her pocket, producing two dimes. Mae dropped them into the fare box. “We’ll each need a transfer.”
    The man in the uniform handed Mae two slips of paper.
    Jill kept a grip on Mae’s arm as Mae led her down the aisle to an empty bench. They found one midway, behind a dozing rabbit-headed man, ears poking through holes cut in the rounded brim of his hat. They were in front of three small, giggly creatures that looked like miniature teenage girls and glowed like silver-mercury moonlight. Across the aisle sat an elderly Asian couple. The woman kept her hands in her lap, looking straight ahead. The man was reading a newspaper. They seemed perfectly normal until Jill noticed the foxtail peeking out from under the woman’s dress.
    “Here, you’ll need this,” Mae said, passing Jill one of the transfer slips. “Whatever you do,