Down World Rebecca Phelps (primary phonics .txt) 📖

“Robbie, it’s okay,” I told him, trying to catch his eyes. “We’re home.” But he didn’t budge. I looked to Piper, who had finally put down the book. “Help me convince him.” She took a better look at the station, and was clearly seeing what I had.

“I think she’s right, baby. I think we should get off and look around.”

“I’ll wait here,” he said, planting himself down on the bed. “You girls go.”

I sat next to him again, trying to face him head-on so that he’d have to look at me. “Robbie,” I began. “Are you afraid?”

He didn’t move a muscle at first, his eyes landing somewhere in the space between us. But then he nodded.

“What are you afraid of?”

He shrugged. “It’ll disappear when the train leaves. Just like the others.”

I nodded, understanding how traumatized he must have been from his years on this train, from watching everything that seemed real melt away. But I just had a feeling in my gut. Those other dimensions disappeared because we weren’t supposed to be there. But that wouldn’t happen now that we were home.

I had to believe it was true.

“I won’t disappear,” I promised him. And I reached out a hand for Piper, who joined us. “And neither will Piper.”

“That’s right,” she insisted, seeming to get more excited about the idea of finally being home. “Robbie, we have to at least look. What if she’s right?” Piper was already standing as she said this, combing her fingers through her hair.

Robbie watched her, and the sadness that came over his face revealed everything. He was afraid he’d lose her here. That somehow she’d go back to Brady now that she could. But I knew that it was possible Brady wasn’t even back yet. And I knew that, in any event, it was time to go.

“Dad is here,” I reminded him, trying to reel him back in to the positive, to convince him that this wasn’t an illusion. “Robbie, come with me. Let’s go see Dad.”

Robbie finally looked back at me, and the slight nod of his head was all the encouragement I needed to know that he was finally ready to go. He stood next to me, and I took his hand.

When we first stepped off the train and onto the platform—the three of us, with our eyes blinking at the light of day—I thought for a second that maybe Robbie was right and that this wasn’t our home. It really did look so different, not just because of the ivy once again covering the building or the extra cracks in the pavement.

Even though I had been here quite recently, it was like I was finally seeing it for what it really was. The station was small, like a little hutch almost. And it took a full moment for it to really sink in that it was the exact same size it had always been. We were just bigger now. Everything that had seemed so giant growing up in this town was finally reduced to its true scale.

We started to walk down the stairs, into the deserted parking lot.

Robbie was nervous, and I felt his hand shaking in mine and his legs falter more than once. We made it all the way to the edge of the parking lot before he stopped walking and started shaking his head.

“No, no, no, no, back on the train, back on the train.”

“It’s okay, Robbie. Let’s keep walking,” I pleaded.

“It really is okay, baby. We’re home. Can’t you see it?”

“Back on the train,” he muttered, sitting down on a nearby curb. “It’s all going to melt. It’s all going to melt.”

“It won’t melt, Robbie. Look!” I all but shouted. I sat down next to him and started pointing out things we could see across the street. “Look, there’s the pharmacy. And the diner. Do you see it?”

He looked up, but his expression didn’t change.

“And the stoplight that’s always broken. Robbie, are you looking?”

His eyes bulged out and glazed with tears, but I could tell he didn’t really believe me yet.

Piper looked scared and frustrated. She kept taking deep breaths. “I want to go home,” she finally said.

“Come here,” I insisted, pulling Robbie up and crossing the empty street, all but dragging him behind me. Piper ran to catch us.

We made it to the pharmacy, and I searched the wall for the place where the sign had been, although someone had clearly tried to paint over it again since we’d left. Finally, though, I found it.

“There!” I said, pointing to the wall. The letters were more faint than ever, but they were there. DANCE HALL GIRLS. The D in DANCE was very clear, and I gestured for Robbie to lean in even closer.

It wasn’t like in DW, where the colors had been too bright, where everything was Technicolor. It was real and it was right. We were home.

“Nothing is melting, Robbie,” I said, desperately trying to see that flash of recognition in his eyes, that comfort of belief. “It’s real. It’s all real.” I grabbed his hand and made him touch the brick wall.

Finally he turned his head to his new girlfriend, and I realized that my word was not going to be enough.

“Piper?” he asked her. She was crying, and she simply nodded her head. He threw himself into her arms, letting her hold him. And as she whispered into his ear something that I couldn’t hear, I touched the wall myself, letting its hard, scratchy surface tickle my fingertips.

We were home. Thank God. We were home.

That’s when we heard the first siren.

It was a fire truck, and we all stood back to watch it go by. The man in the driver’s seat was wearing a strange uniform.

The truck passed, leaving us all still standing on the deserted sidewalk. I knew that we were home, but I would feel more comfortable if some people were around—anyone dressed in normal clothing to seal the fact in my mind.

“Where is everyone?” Piper asked, echoing my thoughts.

I