53 Ganymede

Episode 12 - One Year

Claire's head gently bounces against the head rest as the train hurtles over the tracks. She watches trees – naked except for their elegant gloves of snow – disappear outside her window until her eyes grow tired and begin to close of their own volition. There is little noise aside from the clacking and chugging of the train, and the constant rocking lulls her into a half-sleep. Every time her head sinks further down toward her shoulder she jolts awake and begins the process anew. She is tired, having slept hardly three hours before dragging herself to the train station, but it is too late in her journey to trust herself to sleep now – her destination approaches.

The train eventually slows and there is a ringing of a bell which forces Claire into consciousness. She opens her eyes to find freshly ploughed streets and buildings in place of the trees. A row of cars waits behind safety bars and flashing lights as the train makes its sluggish way through the city.

It is a familiar city, full of nostalgia and memories.

"We are now arriving at Benton Station," a musical voice chimes over the intercom, "Benton Station."

Claire rolls the stiffness from her shoulders and sits straight. She reaches for the overnight bag on the seat beside her and then carefully lifts a few sprigs of dried lavender tied with a cream-coloured ribbon from her lap. Their scent seems to fill the whole of the car, and Claire inhales deeply, silently thanking Sara for leaving them by her door this morning.

No one is waiting for Claire as she departs the train. The long cement platform is barren and the only sign of life comes from inside the tiny station building; not many trains run through Benton, and few people ride them, especially so early on a Saturday morning. Claire straightens her bag and hurries into the warm safety of the building. There are a couple of people loitering here – buying a coffee from the tiny shop or reading a newspaper on a bench – but it is even quieter here than on the train.

Claire's voice echoes against the white-brick walls as she asks the ticket vendor for a weekend pass for the Benton bus system, and she drops it to a whisper to thank him.

She catches the bus in front of the station, transfers at a terminal, and departs in an old residential neighbourhood. The roads here are narrow and far from the main streets, forgotten by the ploughs who have better places to be. Much of the snow has fallen in the night, and so Claire is forced to wade through the sidewalks, occasionally detouring onto the road to follow the compacted tracks of cars.

She admires the decorations on many of the houses, wondering what the lights look like when the sun has fallen. She remembers late night walks with her grandmother on those rare occasions when Ginny had stayed home or been in hospital, the cold air too much for her fragile lungs.

Claire clutches tight to the lavender in her right hand and stops in front of a little brick cottage. She opens the screen door, smiling at the wooden snowman hanging on the wooden door behind it, and knocks.

"Just a minute!" a woman shouts.

It takes much more than a minute but eventually the door opens to reveal a plump woman with tight white curls and clear, chestnut eyes.

"Claire! I didn't think you'd be here this early. I would have met you at the station!" The woman pouts, the frown chiselling deep lines into her already well-creased face. She holds the door open so Claire can enter.

"I didn't want to make you go the whole way..."

"Nah nah nah, I don't want to hear any of this old woman stuff," the woman closes the door and turns to pull Claire into a firm embrace, "I can drag these bones out to the station to see my granddaughter. I missed you, you know."