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| Illustration by ChatGPT |
Pablito jumped out of the opening in the rock, and splashed ankle-deep in salty water. Now he understood why the man he'd followed here was wearing rubber boots, but it was too late now to do anything about it; His sneakers were likely ruined and his mom would be plenty mad about it when he went back.
The man he'd followed had climbed into an empty clothes dryer at the laundromat, and disappeared. Pablito hadn't been able to resist following after him.
The sun was just rising over the natural stone arch ahead of him, casting everything in a warm pink light that made the stark landscape less intimidating. The man he'd followed was nowhere in sight. Common sense told him he should reverse course and climb back into the hole again, and go back. But what fun was there in that?
Pablito started walking, splashing through the seawater with each step. As the arch got closer, time seemed to be moving faster. The sun, which had just risen, was already halfway across the sky. By the time he got to the arch, the sun had risen and set dozens of times.
At the arch he had to climb up a small spit of sandy hill. When he reached the top and stood up, he noticed the ground beneath his feet seemed much further away than it had only moments ago. Not to mention, his feet were bigger, too, and had burst right through his sneakers. He had a momentary pang of dread, thinking about what his mother would say when he came back with his shoes not only soaked in seawater, but torn to tatters. But the thought was fleeting. In fact, his mother felt as far away as his feet. He'd only just seen her, but then again, he felt like he hadn't seen her in years. It was a very odd sensation.
Pablito kept going, and stepped through the stone arch. As he did so, he expected to put his foot down on the same sandy soil he'd just been trudging through. Instead, he pitched forward, windmilling his arms, until finally catching his balance and finding himself on a concrete platform.
"Seriously?" Demanded a high pitched voice. "I told them we were at capacity and wouldn't be taking anymore today. There aren't any others coming behind you, are there?" Pablito blinked at the woman standing before him with a clipboard. "Uh, no. I don't think so?" He said.
They were standing in what looked to be a train station, but nothing like the one near Pablito's house. This one was old, and very, very large. Trains were chugging in and out in all directions, filling the terminal with steam and the smell of coal smoke. People of all shapes, sizes, and ages were bustling too and from their trains.
"Well, it can't be helped. You're here now, we'll just have to make the best of it. May I have your name please?" The woman asked.
Pablito opened his mouth to say his name, but paused. He had grown so much since he climbed out of the opening in the rock that 'Pablito' didn't seem to fit him anymore. "I'm Pablo," he said instead. The woman scribbled on her clipboard, then tore a paper ticket from the roll around her wrist. "Your train is leaving on track B in five minutes. If you hurry, you can just make it." Pablito took the paper ticket and ran in the direction she pointed towards, arriving at his train just in time to board before it pulled away from the station.
-----
Many, many years later an old man disembarked on track B. His hip was failing, so he relied heavily on his hawthorn walking stick. He was bundled up for the cold, and wearing rubber boots as if he expected to wade through water. He wandered from the platform looking for the exit, unsure of which way he should go until a porter in a navy coat and peaked cap noticed him lingering.
"Hey there, old timer! You look a little lost. Can I help you get where you're going?"
The old man, his name was Pablo, looked startled, but nodded his head. "Yes, please. I thought I would remember the way, but it's been so long...."
"No need to worry, Sir. We see this quite often." The porter took Paul by the elbow and steered him in the opposite direction. They walked slowly through the terminal, the porter slowing his pace to match that of the older gentleman, until they came to a brick archway. The archway seemed to lead into a tunnel, which was poorly lit. Paul squinted, but couldn't see more than few feet in.
"The first few feet can be a challenge," The porter said, "But it gets easier as it goes. You'll see." Then the porter was gone, and Paul was left standing at the mouth of the tunnel. He couldn't quite remember what was at the other end, but something about the tunnel felt familiar. He gripped his stick, and slowly walked in.
------
Pablo stumbled out of the arch, only to find himself facing in the direction of the hole in the cliff wall he'd first climbed out of a lifetime ago. He looked down at himself, patting his front and his knees and his head in amazement. He was himself again, a ten year old boy. He was 'Pablito' once more.
The body that was so recently frail and decrepit was now young, and strong. He dropped the walking stick and started to run down the sandy embankment. As he splashed into the water, glad to have the rubber boots, he suddenly remembered the fate of his long-lost sneakers. His mother would be plenty mad! He grinned widely at the thought.
_____
"Mama!" Pablito called as he climbed back out of the last dryer at the back of the laundromat. He landed on the linoleum with a wet squelch in his rubber galoshes. "I'm back!" He called. His mom was still folding laundry, talking to his Tia on the phone as if he'd never left. She turned to look at him, then pulled her head back in surprise. "¿Qué hacías? ¿De quién son esas botas?"
Pablito grabbed her by the hand, laughing, and pulled her with him towards the dryers. "Just trust me, you'll see!
