[from] Housekeeping

By Marilynne Robinson

[Near an isolated town in rural Idaho circa 1960, a train has derailed from a bridge that passes over the freezing lake. The townspeople are searching for bodies, using technology that is unimaginable today.]

People came down to the water’s edge, carrying lamps.  Most of them stood on the shore, where in time they built a fire.  But some of the taller boys and younger men walked out on the railroad bridge with ropes and lanterns.  Two or three covered themselves with black grease and tied themselves up in the rope harnesses, and the others lowered them down into the water at the place where the porter and the waiter thought the train must have disappeared.  After two minutes timed on a stop-watch, the ropes were pulled in again and the divers walked stiff-legged up the pilings, were freed from their ropes and wrapped in blankets.  The water was perilously cold. 

          Till it was dawn the divers swung down from the bridge and walked, or were dragged, up again.  A suitcase, a seat cushion, and a lettuce were all they retrieved.  Some of the divers remembered pushing past debris is they swam down into the water, but the debris must have sunk again, or drifted away in the dark.  By the time they stopped hoping to find passengers, there was nothing else to be saved, no relics but three, and one of them perishable.  They began to speculate that this was not after all the place where the train left the bridge.  There were questions about how the train would move through the water.  Would it sink like a stone despite its speed, or slide like an eel despite its weight?  If it did leave the tracks here, perhaps it came to rest a hundred feet ahead.  Or again it might have rolled or slid when it struck bottom, since the bridge pilings were set in the crest of a chain of flooded hills, which on one side formed the wall of a broad valley (there was another chain of hills twenty miles north, some of them islands) and on the other side fell away in cliffs. Apparently these hills were the bank of still another lake, and were made of some brittle stone which had been mined by the water and fallen sheerly away.  If the train had gone over on the south side (the testimony of the porter and the waiter was that it had, but by this time they were credited very little) and had slid or rolled once or twice, it might have fallen again, farther and much longer.

          After a while some of the younger boys came out on the bridge began to jump off, at first cautiously and then almost exuberantly, with whoops of fear.  When the sun rose, clouds soaked up the light like a stain.  It became colder.  The run rose higher, and the sky grew bright as tin.  The surface of the lake was very still.  As the boys’ feet struck the water, there was a slight sound of rupture.  Fragments of transparent ice wobbled on the waves they made and, when the water was calm again, knitted themselves up like bits of a reflection.  One of the boys swam out forty feet from the bridge and then down to the old lake, feeling his way down the wall, down the blind, breathless stone, headfirst, and then pushing out from the foot.  But the thought of where he was suddenly terrified him, and he leaped toward the air, brushing something with his leg as he did.  He reached down and put his hand on a perfectly smooth surface, parallel to the bottom, but, he thought, seven or eight feet above it.  A window.  The train had landed on its side.  He could not reach it a second time.  The water bore him up.  He said only that smooth surface, of all the things he touched, was not overgrown or hovered about by a cloud of something loose, like silt.  This boy was an ingenious liar, a lonely boy with a boundless desire to ingratiate himself. His story was neither believed nor disbelieved.

          By the time he had swum back to the bridge and was pulled up and had told the men there where he had been, the water was becoming dull and opaque, like cooling wax.  Shivers flew when a swimmer surfaced, and the membrane of ice that formed where the ice was torn looked new, glassy, and black.  All the swimmers came in.  By evening the lake there had sealed itself over. 

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