As the train pulled away from the Oshkosh depot and picked up speed into the countryside, he imagined it as from above: the soft yellow light emanating from its passenger windows, its bright white headlight illuminating the skiffs of snow blowing across the track as it made its way through the rolling farmland that was iced with dainty shifting bands of snow. He imagined the brick red barns, warmed this time of night by the steaming breath of horses and cattle, the peaceful white houses each with a single lamp left burning in the front window. He remembered the electric train set he’d had when he was a kid. He used to like to run it with all the lights out, just the beam of the headlight visible as the train whirred around the track. He had not remembered that in years, and he fell asleep thinking of it, and did not dream.

Refusing assistance from the conductor and other passengers, he made his own way on his crutches down the steps of the car to the platform of the Pine Rapids depot. He was proud and exhausted when he got to the platform and looked up. His mother and father were illuminated under the depot’s lights in their overcoats and hats, their breath making steam in the crisp air. His mother’s face showed her dismay at the sight of him, but she quickly smiled, and brought her gloved hands to her lips.

He swallowed, straightened his spine, and made his way across the platform to them. They looked at him like they had never seen him before, but that he was the answer to their prayers. He stopped before them and, balancing on his crutches, he nudged his mother’s shoulder with his knuckles. “I’m all right, Mom,” he told her. “See?”

He watched the tears pooling in her eyes, and then she lunged for him and clutched him tightly to her. He remembered her holding him that way once when he was a kid and he’d gotten lost in the woods and stayed out long past dark. To his amazement, after all this time, he felt now the same surge of relief at having made it back home to his mother, and he realized that he had been mistaken. The end had not come until now, and the end would never come at all.

Chapter 48

MINNEAPOLIS GENERAL HOSPITAL,
CADET NURSE DORMITORY
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Wednesday, November 21, 1945

As soon as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Elissa rushed out of it and down the hall, unbuttoning her cuffs as she went, followed on her heels by her roommate, Claire. “You’d think you had a train to catch,” Claire quipped, taking long strides to keep up.

Elissa laughed. She was already feeling liberated at just the thought of spending three full days away from the hospital and the university.