By the time we got off at BerampurA city in India, I was so exhaustedexténué I slumpeds'affaler onto a wooden benchbanc on the platformquai and said I couldn’t go on continuerwithout a restrepos. Guddu said that was fine – there were a few things he needed to do anyway. ‘Just sit down and don’t move. I’ll come back in a little while and we can find somewhere to sleep for the night.’ He was probably going to scavengefaire les poubelles, fouiller some food or hunt for coinspièces around the platforms. I lay downs'allonger, shut my eyes, and must have fallen asleep straight awayimmédiatement.
When I woke up, it was very quiet, and the station was deserted. Bleary-eyedvaseux, fatigué, I looked around for Guddu but couldn’t see him anywhere. There was a train at the platform where we’d got off, with its carriagewagon door open, but I didn’t know if it was the same one or how long I’d been asleep.
I’ve often wonderedse demander exactly what I thought right then. I was still half-asleep and unnervedtroublé by finding myself alone at night. My thoughts were muddledembroullé. Guddu wasn’t around, but he’d said he wasn’t going far – maybe he’d got back on the train? I shuffledtraîner des pieds over and climbed the boarding stairsmarches to have a look. I have a memory of seeing some people asleep on board and stepping back down in case they woke up and called a conductor. Guddu had said I should stay putne pas bouger, but he was probably on board in a different carriage, working, sweepingbalayer underneath the seats. What ifet si I fell asleep on the dark platform again, and the train pulled outse mettait en route, and I was left alone?
I looked into a different carriagewagon and found no one, but the empty wooden bench seats were more comfortable and felt safer than the quiet station – Guddu would come and get me soon, smiling, perhaps with a treatgâterie, friandise he’d found while cleaning. There was plenty of room to stretch outs'étendre. In a few moments, I was sleeping peacefully again.