Ryan Anderson had just died. And, as his spirit left his earthbound form, maybe he should have been scared. But, he wasn't. Somehow, in a strange way, he felt freer than he had ever experienced before in his short life span.

He knew this was going to be a long ride on the chugging choo-choo known as the Glory Train. After all, he had just departed Earth and had to travel past Mars, Venus, and even little Pluto. And, that was just to leave the Milky Way.

Who knew what amount of vast outer space would have to be converged before he reached his destination. One thing he was sure proud to see was there wasn't another soul, ghoul, ghost, or spirit of any kind on the train. At least, not in the section he was riding in.

Being dead was a new dimension for the boy. Obviously, he had never encountered this level of existence before. As he settled back in his oversized seat on that express train he tried to recall exactly what had happened to him to begin with.

He remembered a blazing hot fire, like being confined inside an oven. Only it wasn't an oven he had been burned alive in. Why couldn't he remember what happened to him, he wondered. He really wanted to. 'Cause where he was going, he would have to give a complete explanation for all his earthly experiences.

Ryan slowly took a deep breath and exhaled. Repeating this process several times seemed to help him relax even more. That's when he recalled the dilapidated old wooden barn that served as his funeral pyre. The train chugged on.

For an instant his spirit froze as he recounted the events of that day. Then the nightmarish reliving of them consumed him. And, he wanted to forget, but he could not. The memories were scorched into his mind where they would remain forever.

It had been a fire deliberately set for one purpose. The inferno had been the culmination of his life of abuse. Ryan remembered it being a beautiful Summer day on his family's small farm outside McMinnville and that his father had sent him into the barn to clean his horse's stall.

Dobie was a big palomino paint Ryan had recently acquired for his Future Farmers of America project that season. The boy had often wanted a horse of his own and finally found a way to barter for him.

Nearing the ripe old age of twenty, Dobie was still in good shape. Ryan rode him daily and always enjoyed the time spent with him. It was one of the very few pleasures in his otherwise horrific life the boy had found. Ryan was also responsible for Dobie's daily upkeep, and it was that chore that had him in the barn that fateful day.

Ryan did not mind the dirty work, at least, not that much. Most of the time Ryan lived in squalor anyway. Seemed all his father cared about was his next bottle of whiskey. Like all animals, Dobie needed to be well taken care of even if Ryan himself wasn't.

The boy never heard his father lock the barn door while he mucked Dobie's stall. Nor did Ryan, at first, smell the gasoline being poured around the outside of the barn. When he did he became very frantic and tried to escape the burning structure, but could not get out.

Trapped inside the tinderbox soon the smoke and flames consumed the barn, the hay stored in it, and the boy.

With a sudden start Ryan bolted upright in his seat as it dawned on him that he had been murdered by his father. Ten years old. Was he really worth more to him dead?

Then Ryan thought out loud, "Don't cry for me Argentina. There is a whole lot more to this story yet to be told."

The Glory Train churned on and Ryan watched the Milky Way disappear behind him. Suddenly, a deep exhaustion settled over him and he faded off to sleep. He knew where he would be when he woke up again. And, he wasn't afraid. Although, perhaps, he should have been.