Death Takes a Holiday
mountains,” Grace said.
    “ That’s what the brochure claims. Doctor Foster, by the way,” he said, offering his hand.
    Introducing herself, Grace shook his hand , but quickly let go when he winced.
    He gingerly pushed the sleeve of his coat up revealing a white bandage.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
    “No, not really. I got a tattoo yesterday. I didn’t realize how much they hurt.” He grinned. “You want to see it?”
    Before Grace had a chance to respond, Foster unwound the bandage and proudly presented his forearm. A large black blob began at his wrist then narrowed and wrapped around his arm before disappearing beneath his coat sleeve.
    “That’s . . . nice,” she said politely. As far as she could tell it looked more like a Rorschach test than anything remotely identifiable.
    “Do you know what it is?”
    She tilted her head to the side and scrunched up her face. “It’s a . . . uh . . .”
    “Go on. Guess,” he demanded with a smile.
    “A ladybug climbing up a centipede,” she guessed.
    His smile fell. “No, don’t you know your nursery rhymes? It’s Jack and the Beanstalk . I have the giant on my chest. Do you want to see?” he asked, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal another bandage.
    Grace quickly shook her head. “Maybe later. When we’re on the train.”
    “Oh, okay.” Shrugging , he buttoned his shirt before dropping to his knee and rummaging through his backpack. He looked up suddenly. “Did you say your name was Grace Holliday?”
    Grace nodded.
    “No. That’s not right.”
    Bemused , Grace smiled. “I assure you it is.”
    “No pe,” he said shaking his head.
    “I promise you, that is my name.”
    “That may be your name, but you are not going to the Crystal Palace. At least, not on the Excursion train. You’re probably on the Express. It doesn’t leave for another three hours.”
    “ No. I’m supposed to be on the Excursion,” Grace insisted firmly.
    Foster stared at Grace dumbly. Finally coming to some type of decision, he blew out a breath and shook his head. “Fine. Whatever. Go. Stay. I don’t care.”
    Before Grace could respond, Foster suddenly tossed the contents of his backpack onto the platform. A brush, wallet, candy bar wrappers, lighter, and scraps of paper littered the ground next to Grace’s feet as the young man hurriedly went through the bag. “What exactly are you a doctor of?”
    “They stole it,” was said so softly that Grace wasn’t quite sure if she heard correctly.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    Foster pushed his gold-rimmed glasses back up on his nose, as more scraps of paper joined the pile growing at Grace’s feet. He looked up suddenly, his eyes flashing. “The note from my doctor! Why do you think I’m down here on my knees?”
    A multitude of questions went through Grace’s mind simultaneously. Who, what, why and perhaps most prominently, are you crazy, all fought for a voice in Grace’s mind.
    Foster suddenly laughed.
    Definitely crazy.
    “Here it is.” Foster proudly held up a small scrap of paper before kissing it and hugging it to his chest. Repacking his backpack, he glanced up at Grace. “We’d better hurry before we’re late.” A sudden wind caused several of the scrap pieces of paper still at his knees to scatter. “Oh no! Help.” Foster crawled forward snatching at the scraps.
    Grace reached down and picked up a few at her feet. She noticed that most were of random historical dates and events , but one, in particular, caught her eye. It was a list of names and room numbers printed on, what appeared to be, Crystal Palace Excursion Train stationary. Grace wouldn’t have even noticed it if Kyle’s name hadn’t caught her eye.
    Foster ’s hand suddenly reached out and snatched the paper out of Grace’s hand, causing the corner of the page to rip. “Do you mind?”
    “ Is that a list of passengers?”
    Foster didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down at the paper. “What did you say your name was?” He

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