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?"