“The engineer will stop the train if he has to!” Zeke shouted as he waved his hands in the air. “He must be able to see us by now.”
But the train was not slowing down. Nobody was putting on the brakes. Why would they? The engineer probably wasn’t even looking ahead. There was no reason to think anybody would be inside the tunnel.
The rumble had become a thunderous roar that echoed off the walls as the train got closer. I kept tugging at my shoelace, desperately trying to get it loose. Sweat was pouring down my forehead. I wiped it away with my sleeve.
“Hurry up!” shouted Zeke.
I looked up. The train was closer.
I felt my heart racing. In a few seconds the train would be right on top of me.
“Forget about the lace!” shouted Zeke. “Just pull your sneaker off!”
“I can’t!” I shouted back. “The knot is too tight!”
Zeke crawled over to try to pull my sneaker off. But he couldn’t get it off either.
“Yank it!”
“I’m trying!”
There was no more time. The train was right on top of us. There was nothing we could do.
“Roll!” Zeke shouted, as he dove out of the way.
I rolled my whole body over, stretching out so I was as far away from the rail as possible. My shoelace was taut, still attached. If I was going to lose my foot, that was the price I’d pay for my stupidity. I just didn’t want to lose my life.
The train sounded like a rocket taking off. I couldn’t communicate with Zeke anymore. The noise was too loud. I covered my ears to block it out.
As the train roared past, it must have sliced through my shoelace, because I fell backward, landing on the rocks next to the tracks and hitting the ground hard.
And that’s all I remember.
THE BOX
I think I was dreaming. It was something about a test at school that I didn’t study for.
Then I woke up, and I sensed immediately that something was wrong. I felt lousy. I had a headache. My nose and throat were sore. But it was more than that. Something was different. My bed didn’t feel right. My pillow didn’t feel right. I felt sore all over. It was like I had run a marathon or something. But I didn’t remember doing anything different before I went to sleep. I didn’t remember going to Riverside Park with Zeke, or anything about the train tracks. Not then. Not yet.
Somebody was holding my right hand. That was strange.
I was hesitant to open my eyes. They didn’t want to open. It was like they had forgotten how to blink. I had to force them open.
The first thing I heard when I opened my eyes was the sound of my mother screaming.
“You’re awake!” she shrieked. “He’s awake! Harry’s awake! My baby is awake!”
The next thing I knew, she was all over me, hugging and kissing me and crying tears of joy.
“Harry’s back!” she shouted. “Nurse! Nurse!”
“Can you close the shades?” I mumbled, shielding my eyes.
Everything seemed so bright. My eyes had been shut for so long, it seemed. They needed to adjust to the light. My voice felt rough. My mother was hollering like she had won the lottery or something.
I looked around. I was in a hospital room. There were a bunch of machines beeping, like those old-time video games. Tubes were going into my nose, and an IV was in my arm. I had never even spent a night in a hospital before. I wasn’t even born in a hospital. So I didn’t know if all this stuff was normal or not.
A couple of nurses rushed in, one of them a woman and the other a man. They seemed really happy to see me.
I looked myself over, searching for clues about what had happened to me. I had all my limbs. There was no blood. No cast. I could move all my fingers. It didn’t seem like I had any broken bones or anything. I couldn’t imagine why I was in the hospital, or why everybody was acting like it was such a big deal. All I did was wake up.
“Where am I?” I asked. My mother was too emotional to answer.
“Mount Sinai Hospital,” the male nurse told me. “You’re in the ICU. We’re going to check your vital signs. Then the doctor will come in to look at you.”
ICU? That’s the Intensive Care Unit. That’s where they put people who need…intensive care, I guess. But I didn’t even know what that meant. I thought everybody in a hospital is supposed to get intensive care. That’s why they’re in a hospital.
“Why am I here?” I asked.
“You were in a coma, honey,” said the female nurse. Then she told her partner, “Vital signs look good.”
A coma? That’s serious stuff. Being in a coma is like being somewhere between sleep and death, but probably closer to death. I don’t know much about it, but I do know that some people who are in a coma never come out of it.
“How long was I out?” I asked.
“A week,” my mother said, wiping her eyes with a handful of tissues. “I didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”
“Your mom was here the whole time,” the female nurse said. “She’s a real hero.”
A week? No wonder I was sore all over. I needed to move. I started to roll over so I could put my feet on the floor and stand up.
“Not so fast, cowboy,” the male nurse said, pushing me back down on the bed.
I wasn’t strong enough to resist.
“What happened to me?” I asked.
“You were playing by the railroad tracks at Riverside Park,” my mother explained, still sniffling a little. “You must have hit your head on something. You had a concussion. Honey, I’m so glad you’re back!” And
