The night was almost full dark, except for one band of orange clouds lying across the western sky. Above the tree line the moon was up, pale silver and waned two days past full. Mist rose from the grass as the ground cooled. It wavered and was whisked away by the wind blowing down along the open line of the railroad tracks.
A point of light far away to the south appeared and grew into the long beam of the headlight of a train. A.T. turned and ran towards the platform when he felt the thrumming of its approach telegraphed through the rails to his bare feet.
Gussie came out to the platform beside the tracks, waving a black dress in front of a lantern to signal the train. Soon the sound of clattering wheels and steam engine exhaust was loud enough and near enough to beckon to those few people still hiding.
They came like the small creatures, scurrying along through the thick brush under the tall trees. They came like little ghosts, their dark skin hidden by the darkness, only the white of their nightgowns glowing in the moonlight as they seemed to float across the open grass and up onto the platform. Some, like Queen and Emma, were carried, too sick or injured to walk by themselves. Some like Marlene came slowly, stopping frequently to turn around towards a shadowed figure back under the trees. The last few survivors came quickly, running, in a hurry to take their last chance of rescue. As the engine braked to a halt, the survivors moved into the freight cars it pulled.
Rose waited, waited for the others to run to the platform, waited until everyone was in the freight cars, waited and hoped until Mr. Bryce told her ”Come on, Miss, come on now,” and helped her through the door, then stepped to the front of the car and pulled the door shut.
The train blew out a burst of steam as the gears engaged and the engine labored to move ahead. The chugging of the flywheels was the only sound as the passenger cars glided past the still smoldering ruins of the now empty town. No one spoke as the train passed the outskirts, there were no voices heard as the engine built speed and began the journey inland, away from the now terrible place that had once been a home to them all.
It wasn’t until the train was moving through Otter Creek that the first sobs were heard, perhaps from an exhausted child or from one of the injured, in pain. Another, then another began to weep, then wail, and soon the sound of grief and mourning was drifting behind the rescue train like a siren song as it passed across the pine flats of the coastline towards the east and safety.
Gussie was met at the Archer depot by her sister and parents and they led her off the train, silent and staring, even when the children of Rosewood called to her in farewell. On the train moved, through the forests and fields of Alachua County, through the back streets of Gainesville and down to the wooden depot on the south side of town where a crowd of people waited.
As the train came to a stop people crowded the rear doors, reaching for loved ones and pulling them close, easing others into the arms of family as they emerged from the two train cars. The conductor called several times to Rose before she heard him.
“Come on, come on now, you have to get off here,” he told her, and finally she led Queen to the rear door and helped her down the steps.
The weeping began again fresh as the victims began to tell of the wounded, the missing, of the gone. Happy Carrier rushed to the group of children surrounding Marlene and embraced her, but began to shriek “No! No! No!” as they crowded around her and someone told her of the deaths of her mother and her brother. Emma screamed and fell to the roadway, wailing, calling her husband’s name as her brother told her the awful news of his death, read in the morning paper. Other families began to mourn and the sound of grief rose around the crowded depot and began to drift, blown away on the cold wind across the flatlands where the depot stood.
Rose watched as people began to move away from the depot as they found or didn’t find their kin, mourned those lost and rejoiced to find those who survived. The crowd had dwindled to only a few survivors by the time she realized no one was coming for her. Happy and the Carrier survivors had been led away by John Hall. Emma’s brother led her, Minnie Lee and the other children away as Emma continued to call for James. Only Rose and Queen, shivering and filthy, the Christmas quilt ripped and soiled from the nights and days in the woods, were left on the platform after a few more minutes had passed.
“I knew, when I saw, but I didn’t know what I saw,” a voice spoke behind her, and Rose whipped around in fear but it was Granny Goins, staring off down the tracks to the west. “I knew you were here, but I didn’t know who you were. White gown, nightgown, I see, it never does make sense, really, does it? And knowing never changed a thing, did it. Knew all along it would happen, nobody listened. Why would they? Just an old lady, old lady crazy from her dreams. None of it matters now.
“I can’t see him,” she said, holding Rose’s arm and turning to stare into her eyes. “Can’t see him, don’t know where he is, it’s dark all the way back there and only the depot, hung all over with vines, still standing.”
“W-who, Auntie?” Rose asked, shivering as the old woman stared.
Granny Goins only shook her head, slowly, side to side, and didn’t answer.
“No way to know, but I know,” she muttered. “Gone, all gone.”
Queen moved close, took Granny Goins’ arm and shook her, lightly, just until she turned to look at Queen and shook herself out of her spell.
“Granny, let’s go home,” Queen wheezed, and her grandmother look sharply at her, as if now she really saw Queen and could see that she was ill.
“Child, let me get you home, get you in bed. Come on now, you come with Granny, we’ll worry about all the rest later.” She took Queen by the arm and began to lead her down the stairs of the platform. Rose stood stiff on the platform, wondering what to do, but Granny turned and said “Come on, I told you, you come with us now,” so Rose followed.