Orange-Clad Train-Climber Crew, Moving  
 Along  The Rusty  Cargo  Cars  Like Some 
 Species Of  Ferrophage  Insect.  Up  And 
 Down  The Train, Checking Bolts,  Oiling 
     Joints, Drinking Coffee, Smoking     
                Cigarettes.               
                                          
            
                                          
 We Were  Going  South Through Finland At 
 The   Time,   Sleeping   Close   To  The 
  Furnace, Watching The Aurora borealis.  
  Twenty-Something Members Of The Crew,   
 Most   Of   Which  Were  Mechanics,   Or 
 Loaders,  With  Large  And  Hairy  Hands 
 That Could Swallow  My Entire  Body. And 
 Me  Featuring As  The  Cute And  Asocial 
 Radio Operator,  Stationed  In The  Back 
    Of The Kilometer-Long Train, Which    
         Served Me Good And Well.         
                                          
 And Then One  Night, There'S A  Missile. 
 We  Would Routinely Pick  Up New Cars At 
 The Tail, And  Drop  Some  Off, As A Way 
 Of  Earning  Some  Extra  Money.  But  A 
 Missile,  And Appearing Silently  In The 
 Middle   Of  The   Night  At  That?  Not 
         Entirely... Comfortable.         
                                          
 I  Call  It In On The Walkie-Talkie. Not 
 Many  Others  Awake, They  Know  Nothing 
 About It, And Appear Concerned  As Well. 
                                          
            
                                          
 When  I  Fall  Awake In  The  Afternoon, 
 Karl  Is  There,  Smiling  At  Me.  "Hey 
 Boy," He  Says,  "Wanna Help  Me  Make A 
                  Call?"                  
                                          
 After  He'S Brought  Me Coffee,  I  Dial 
 The Frequency  From  His  Notebook,  And 
 After  A   While  There'S   A  Reply  In 
 Pan-Slavic.  Karl  Laughs  And  Makes  A 
 Reply In The Same Language.  Even Though 
 We  Both Have Headphones  I Can'T Follow 
 At All, But I Hear  The Word "Missile" A 
                Few Times.                
                                          
 I'M  Almost Snoozing Again  At  The Time 
 Karl Puts Down The Headphones And  Slaps 
 Me  On My Back.  "Allright Boy.  I  Just 
 Sold  A Missile."  He  Practically Beams 
 At Me, Teeth Filed Sharp. "Wanna Make  A 
                 Detour?"