I Still Don’t Get What Turkish Delight Is

The trio walked up the tracks towards the traffic light, Luce taking the opportunity to kick away anything blocking the track as she moved along. The light was bigger and more blocky than the ones in the village, looking more like a metal box on a pole than a collection of lamps, but the purpose seemed clear.
“Only two lights?” Asked Cy. “Don’t the village ones have three?”
“The village lights also have no glass, and birds nesting in them.” Bug pointed out. “This one at least has red and green, even if they do look like they’re going to fall out.”
As they looked up, a squirrel poked its head out from behind the red light, chittered angrily at them, and vanished again, leaving the glass swaying slightly on rusty hinges.
Bug looked around them, at the track behind leading back down the valley, then at the track ahead curving up and around a bend, and scratched her head.
“The village ones are at least on a crossroad.” She complained. “This is a straight section of track, or close enough to it. Even if they still worked, what’s the point of them?”
Cy had wandered a bit further up the tracks, and was crouched down, looking at the yet-to-be cleared debris on the rails.
“I’m not sure how much point the ones in the village have either.” He called back. “It’s not that big, surely?”
“Maybe when there were more people living here?” Bug suggested. “Maybe there was more traffic back then?”
Cy walked back, licking at the occasional larger plant growing between the rails with a thoughtful expression. When he reached Bug and Luce they all headed back to the railcart, looking around for any clue as to why there would be traffic lights in the middle of nowhere.
“Maybe it’s like that book with the lion?” Luce suggested with a chuckle. “A light in the middle of a clearing?”
She looked around.
“Not much chance of snow though.” She added.
“I’ve read that one!” Cy said. “But I still don’t know what turkish delight is; I asked, but the best I got was that it’s sticky and sweet and that nobody actually seemed to like it.”
“I’m going to be really annoyed if the Wanderer came in through a wardrobe.” Bug muttered. “I’m going to really enjoy pushing that wardrobe off a cliff, or setting it on fire, or something.”
They reached the railcart, and Cy awkwardly raised one hand, like he was asking a question in one of Doctor Erik’s lessons.
“I promise I’m not trying to get out of pushing.” He started. “But can I try walking ahead until we get to the junction? I’ve had an idea.”

Bug and Luce looked at him, clearly unconvinced.
“I mean, it sure sounds like avoiding pushing.” Luce pointed out.
“Yeah, the bit where you’re out ahead of the cart definitely feels like not pushing to me.” Bug agreed. “What’s the idea?”
Cy looked around at the grasses and low plants growing between the rails. They were small and scraggly compared to anything off the side of the tracks, but despite growing up through gravel instead of soil they still made a patchy green carpet.
“It’s something Lumpy told me about hunting once.” Cy said. “About how plants get bent out of shape and take time to come back, and how you can track things that way.”
He grimaced slightly.
“Of course, he also said something creepy about how animals usually can’t avoid it, but people can, so if a people trail suddenly stops it means they know you’re there.”
Bug looked up ahead, then back the way they came, paying attention to the plants for possibly the first time all day.
“What’re you thinking, exactly?” She asked.
Cy pointed to the debris they’d moved and the plants they’d trampled.
“We need to clear the tracks a lot to get get through, that big railcart probably didn’t; It probably can roll right over small stuff, and go through the plants.” Cy explained. “So if we look out for crushed stuff and plants that got pushed over and haven’t grown back yet?”
Luce nodded, experimentally pushing a tuft of grass sideways with one foot and watching it not quite spring back to its original position.
“If we could spot that, we could figure out which track to follow?” She asked, not really asking.
Bug shrugged.
“Works for me.” She said. “I figure it has to be that the blocked tunnel is cleared out somehow; I get the idea that when they close a mine, they close it a LOT, for safety.”
She and Luce walked around to the back of the railcart, released the brake, and started pushing.
“I think you’re right.” Cy called back. “About the mine at least; I can’t imagine how a tunnel they blew up got un-exploded though.”
As they trudged along, Luce muttered to Bug.
“Is it just me, or does Lumpy sometimes say some really creepy things? Like that whole hunting people thing Cy mentioned.”
“I’m still wondering what it was that Mister Station stopped him from saying.” Bug replied. “I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.”
The walked on in silence for a while, not actively pushing as much as leaning on the railcart and walking steadily forward.
“When we get back, I think …” Bug said. “I think I’d like to have Mister Station and Lumpy explain a few more things. Things they left out.”
Luce nodded.
“I get that there’s stuff they don’t want to tell kids about, I really do.” She replied. “But I think what we’re doing right now is one of those things, so … We did need to know.”

They travelled for a while without talking, Cy trying his best to see the traces left behind by the Wanderers railcart, while Bug and Luce mostly watched the trackbed roll by under their feet as they walked along.
“Mister Station had a weird look when Lumpy gave us those knives, I thought.” Luce said after a while.
“I’d thought it was something to do with the book.” Bug replied. “But … I think it was something else. Like a soldier thing or something?”
They trudged on.
“Add it to the list for Mister Station and Lumpy?” Luce suggested.
Bug’s reply was interrupted by a shout from up ahead.
“I can see the junction!”
Luce and Bug looked at each other, gave a final big shove, then glambered onto the back of the railcart and rode it until the momentum ran out. Luce pulled the brake lever to keep it from rolling backward, and the trio paused, looking up the tracks to where they split.
The path to the left looked much like everything else they’d passed through so far. Tracks hemmed in by trees, with grasses and small plants growing between and beside the rails, all in a level space cut into the hillside. On the right, however, the ground dropped away and the tracks … didn’t, heading straight out over the trees and curving around to vanish out of sight.
“I … I wasn’t expecting this.” Cy admitted. “I kind of expected bigger plants that were pushed down, not … “
“Flying tracks?” Bug suggested.