139 Years to the End of the World

The Winter Train, Part Four

I wondered if imagination was linked to sight. Even with my eyes closed, my mind can't seem to project anything onto the blank canvas of the back of my eyelids. Yet, I know I've read before that even the blind could imagine sounds, so perhaps my inability to do so was attributed more to the time I've been submerged in darkness rather than the lack of imagination. At any rate, I decided to stop trying and opened my eyes to the darkness of the cabin.

"Lights," I said, and the fluorescent lamp automatically flickered on as I sat up in my bed, throwing the blanket aside and off me.

Unlike real eyes, my camera substitutes don't feel any discomfort when adjusting to brightness. In fact, it does so with surprising ease and I had the fleeting idea of asking Parker if I could install night vision technology into them.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts and I called out, "Come in."

The cabin door slid opened and my – I can't believe I'm saying this – son-in-law, Newton Smith, stood at the door. He said, "Hey, I was just passing by and saw your lights on. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I just can't sleep," I admitted. "Newton, right?"

"Actually, it's Leonard," he replied, and I remembered Leila telling me the name before I went under five years ago. "Newton is my middle name. Parker just calls me that cause he thinks it sounds cooler."

"I'm gonna have to agree with the doctor on this one," I replied, thinking that I should have thought of an awesome middle name for Leila as well. "Do people still say 'cool' these days?"

"Parker does," he watched as I adjusted my seating to lean against the wall. "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah, I guess I've slept for long enough."

Uncannily, he asked, "Or maybe there's something on your mind?"

"I um..." I was unsure of how to reply. "It's um...it's nothing."

"Want to talk about it?"

"You're really blunt, aren't you?" I said matter-of-factly.

"It's part of my charm."

I chuckled at his directness, that personality of his matching the rather stout built.

Deciding it's better to get things off my chest sooner than later, I asked, "How did you meet my daughter anyway?"

He adjusted his standing uncomfortably. "Well..." he looked towards the chair opposite me and I gestured him to sit. Taking the invitation, he closed the door behind him and removed his coat, draped it over the chair, and took the position on the cushion after. "There's not much to the story, really. I was an engineer hired to maintain the Cryo-Tube. She said 'Hi', I said 'Hi', back. G told me to back off. One thing let to another and..."

"You're now porking my daughter."

"Now who's being blunt?"

"Well, I'm her father, so I think I have the right to be blunt."

"You know I'm older than you, right?"

"Still her father."

"Heh," he laughed awkwardly. "Right. Just so you know, we have a kid now."

"I know. She told me. John is it?" I leaned into the wall of the cabin and contemplated on the idea that I was actually a grandfather. It dawned on me that I will likely never see him. "How old is he? Three?"

"Four, actually. We named her after Joan. A little at least." Newton reached around into his coat pocket and retrieved a leather wallet. From within, he took out a small film of photograph and passed it to me. I wondered if anyone else in the world was still old fashioned enough to carry around pocket photographs. "We left him with a friend since we didn't know how dangerous this trip might be."