Chapter 24: First Ring

We went to the bridge at dawn on the anniversary, in the truck, with two coffees and a loaf of rye wrapped in a towel.

The sky over the lake was pale pink, and the road was dry.

It hadn't snowed in nine days, and the salt trucks were out, ahead of us and behind.

Gabe drove in the right lane at the speed limit, with both hands on the wheel.

I watched his right hand.

It was steady.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

"I know."

"I'd go to the end of the world for you, but I'd rather not go back to that rail."

"That's why we're going," I said. "I don't want it to be the only thing the bridge is."

He put on the hazards at the crest, and he pulled onto the shoulder, and this time the cruiser behind us was not there to meet us.

The officer had waved from the foot of the bridge, and kept going.

I got out first.

The new section of rail had weathered to nearly the same dull gray as the old.

The harbor below was bright and flat, with ice only at the edges.

Out past the breakwater a freighter was coming in, slow and huge, with its deck lights still on.

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