Transcontinental (24 page)

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Authors: Brad Cook

BOOK: Transcontinental
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“I vote train. My legs ache. So what do we do? Stand on the tracks?”

“Absolutely not. Disregarding how hazardous that is, an inconvenienced engineer is an unhappy engineer, and an unhappy engineer is hardly inclined to take on a stowaway, let alone two.”

Still a minute out, Leroy watched the train propel down the tracks, smoke billowing from the unit like a rampaging cartoon character.

“Over here.” Ant scuttled behind a row of dense bushes.

Leroy crouched beside him. The train seemed to slow as he watched. He hoped it was; he was sick of walking around, not making progress. He’d lost count of how many days he’d been gone.

“Right. Now, as soon as the engine car passes, we run. Stay off the ballast,” Ant emphasized. “Locate an open car, pace alongside it, and
then
transition. You must be surefooted if you are to make the jump. And keep your feet behind you, it is imperative. Focus on your hands.”

Leroy gulped, trying to steel himself. His mood had done a complete one-eighty, and the train was no longer a sign of hope.

“That is all assuming the train is traveling at a reasonable speed,” Ant said, peering at the train from under a palm that blocked the sun. “If you cannot make it, we can always continue walking. Better to have an ache than a stump.”

The purr of the far-off train intensified as it chugged closer, almost vibrating the air around them. Watching it, Leroy realized it wasn’t going
that
fast, or so he convinced himself. He filled his chest with fresh air.

As it pulled up, Leroy was mesmerized. It never ceased to amaze him how gigantic trains were. He thought back to the dorky security guard at the Barstow station who’d called him a railfan. Maybe it was truer than he’d realized.

Beside him, Ant bolted out from behind the bushes, dragging Leroy out of his fixation. The speed of the middle-aged man bearing that heavy backpack astounded Leroy; Ant looked like an Olympic track runner.

“Come on!” Ant yelled, looking back, and Leroy snapped out of it again. He dashed out, hands grasping the straps of his backpack near his shoulders, trying to stop it from swaying back and forth as he ran.

Train cars crept past Ant as he slowed, decreasing the gap. The rear of the train cruised toward them. Twenty feet back, Leroy was still struggling.

“The last car!” Ant shouted, pointing over his shoulder. “The grainer!” He measured the distance between himself and the oncoming ladder, breathing hard, and adjusted his pace, then pounced, holding his feet behind him as he grasped the ladder. His thighs bashed the metal rungs, but he ignored the pain, gained his footing, and climbed atop the platform.

Lying on his stomach, cheek to the warm steel, a smile broke out on Ant’s face. That was the fastest train he’d ever hopped. Forty-two and still in great shape. He sat up, then turned to check on Leroy. He was reaching out for the ladder, only inches away, but falling behind.


Khara!
” Ant cursed, the smile no longer present on his face.

Leroy pumped his legs as hard as they’d go, but he couldn’t seem to catch up. He was
so close
, but not close enough to risk a jump. Glancing ahead, he saw Ant seated on the front platform, peering back, worry lines creasing his tanned face, and ran harder.

Ant yelled something, but Leroy couldn’t hear it over the train’s rumble. Even if he could, the determination dominating his thoughts would’ve blocked it out. He pushed harder, reaching the extent of his energy. His calves and thighs ached, threatening to cramp up, and what little breath he had was stuck in his throat. He forced air into his lungs, then made one last desperate push for the ladder, thrusting his hand out as far as he could. The tip of his finger grazed a rung. He was almost there. Just a bit further…

And then he stumbled.

Leaning forward, Leroy hurtled along the rocky ballast as the train sped away, but he didn’t fall. After staggering to a shaky stop in the dirt beside the tracks, he dropped to his knees, watching Ant drift away on the grainer, then flopped onto his back, trying to slow his aggressive heartbeat. The thin summer air did nothing to help.

He covered his eyes with the inside of his elbow and wondered what to do next as the train’s tumult faded, leaving only his raspy breathing, and the silence he liked so much. He wasn’t enjoying it at the moment.

Leroy wished he could lay there forever and shut out the world, not have to deal with the trouble he’d gotten himself into. The magnitude of his stupidity astounded him. Running away was dumb enough, in retrospect. Running away across the
country
? And all of it for a woman he’d only known as a child, a decade ago?

Then, the abrasive sound of rocks grinding and crunching caught his ear. He pulled his arm away from his eyes and saw Ant moseying down the ballast, his dark slacks dusted with a fine coat of sand.

“Are you hurt?” Ant called out as he approached.

Leroy remained silent.

“Are you hurt?” he repeated, closing in.

“Just leave me. I’m done,” Leroy muttered.

“You are planning to stake out that spot, build a little hut perhaps?” Ant asked with a grin that sparked the kindling inside Leroy.

“How ‘bout
you
go find Rehema, if you’re so interested,” Leroy said, sprawled in the dirt. “Then she can fly me over to Tampa. I like that idea.”

“I am simply interested in helping you get where you are going,” Ant rebutted, extending a hand to help Leroy up, which he declined. “It is gratifying to see how much you appreciate that fact.”

“Actually I never asked you to come, you forced your way in!” Leroy snapped, and got to his feet on his own. “This was
mine
.”

“Without my guidance, you would likely still be in California.”

“All you’ve done is nearly get me arrested and killed!”

“You are just like the rest,” Ant scoffed. “You use me for my experience and knowledge, then you tire of me and move on. Well, not this time. I will see you through to your destination if it is the last thing I do.”

“I ain’t even going anymore. She won’t want me anyway. And yeah,” Leroy crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, “I said ‘ain’t.’”

“Suit yourself,” Ant said, and walked away from Leroy.

“Where are you going?” Leroy asked, following him.

“Tampa, to convince a woman to purchase a plane ticket.”

“Hold up. We got almost eighty bucks left. Is that enough for a ticket?”

Ant stopped and turned around. “Technically,
I
have almost eighty dollars. Which I will have back, by the way, if you really are planning on staying here. But no, it is not enough, unless you wish to wait months for a flight.”

Leroy groaned and rubbed his eyes. “So sick of this. I’m so worn out. My body aches everywhere. I wish I was just there already.”

“I hate to break it to you, but wishes only come true in movies,” Ant said with a stern edge. “If you would like to make it to Tampa in the near future, then stop whinging help me find a jungle.”

“That’s what we been doing,” Leroy complained.

“And we have not finished yet, have we?”

Leroy groaned again, threw his head back, and hobbled on.

“I apologize for my Lebanese temper,” Ant said as they followed the tracks.

“I’ve seen worse.”

Far ahead, the train’s horn blared, a frail echo of what might’ve been.

* * *

Leroy was tightening the straps of his backpack, since he expected he’d have to run again, when he saw the flicker of a fire casting illuminated patterns on trees in the shade of a gully. He said “Look,” pointing toward the fire.

“Good eye,” Ant said. “The train yard must be just beyond the bend.”

Leroy wiped his brow with his sleeve, mumbling “Thank God.”

They clomped down the shallowest section of hill toward the ravine. Halfway down, Leroy slipped on dead leaves and almost fell flat on his butt, but managed to grab onto a nearby tree and salvage his balance.

“Shall I carry you?” Ant sassed, already at the foot of the decline.

“Ha ha,” Leroy droned, treading the hill with caution. “Lemme guess: in Lebanon, all the land is made of hills covered with leaves,” Leroy parodied, speaking with his hands as much as his words.

Ant threw his head back and laughed from the gut. “Touché.”

Leroy didn’t know what that meant, but he’d gotten a laugh out of Ant, and that made him feel good. In the past he’d been too afraid to even try.

At the bottom of the gully, Leroy gazed at the stone walls protruding from the dirt surroundings. They almost looked like steps, though far too shallow and small to be climbed. Squirrel stairs, he thought, snickering, then spied the blazing fire surrounded by at least five men, though from that distance they looked kind of like stick figures, so he wasn’t sure. Apprehension prickled his skin.

“That looks like quite the hobo party,” Ant said, a faint scowl on his lips. He stopped walking and looked off. “
Khara!”
he spat.

“Is that another language? What’s that mean?”

“It is simply an obscenity,” Ant remarked. “We can not stay here.”

“But you’re the one’s been saying—”

“I know what I said. The spot is bummed out. It is too risky.”

“Bummed out?”

“A surplus of activity in an area will lead a bull to patrol more regularly. I assume that would explain the group ahead.”

“There’s only a few more than at the last jungle.”

“Counting us there would be eight people. Now, decades ago, eight men at one camp would have been normal, expected, even. But these days, a traveler is well advised to avoid a camp of that size.”

“Shouldn’t we try? I mean, we got so far to go. If there’s any chance…”

“We can if you would like, but unless they are all friends traveling together or some such, I suspect they will tell us the same.”

They advanced toward the jungle, keeping an inoffensive pace, yet as they neared they drew glares just the same. There were six of them around the fire: two grizzly men who seemed to be competing for the title of longest beard, an old-timer, thin as a rail, a younger man with a backpack, and a couple.

“Maybe you were right,” Leroy started.

“Calling in!” Ant hollered, and trod without hesitation.

From the other side of the fire, a familiar voice, hoarser than before, cut the silence. “Ain’t no room here. Keep on movin’.”

Ant stopped and said “Well, there is room, literally speaking, but I know what you mean.” Then he turned to Leroy and whispered “Does that strike you as an educated person on first impression?”

“Quit playin’ games and
get
,” the woman ordered.

“That’s Maggie,” Leroy said, his apprehension multiplying. He noticed the scraggly man next to her as Eddy, now with a length of tape slapped across his forehead at a slightly crooked angle.

“Oh boy.”

“Well imagine that,” Eddy gawked, as if the four of them were old friends.

“What are the chances, eh?” Ant agreed.

“You guys know each other?” the mousey backpacker marveled. “That’s incredible! So you guys are like
real
hobos, like circuit hobos, huh?”

Arms resting across his big belly, one of the bearded men rumbled with a low chuckle. The old man next to him had his head bobbed back and jaw slackened, passed out sitting up.

“It’s great seein’ you again,” Maggie assured them without an ounce of sincerity, “but like I said, we’re full up. Yard’s already buzzin’, and we don’t need no child drawin’ more attention to us.”

“No,” Ant smiled, “you can do that just fine on your own. As pleasant as I expect it would be, we have no intention of staying here.” Ant looked the bearded men and the backpacker each firmly in the eye as he clutched the straps of his bag and said “Sleep tight, gentlemen, and I do mean that literally.”

Maggie simpered and affected a wave. “Bye-bye, now.”

Her eyes tracked them as Leroy followed Ant around the camp. Turning back periodically, Leroy watched it fade from view as they continued through the ravine. He was all set to complain about having to walk even
more
, but he doubted Ant was in any mood to hear his guff as they navigated the narrow gulch.

Hell,
he
wasn’t in any mood to hear his guff. He was sick of complaining, and even more sick of being in situations that would encourage him to do so. He was only victimizing himself. This was his choice, and he intended to see it through. Whatever ‘it’ was, he resolved to man up and deal with it, and at this moment it was the walk to the next station.

God, it would be a long walk, though.

* * *

A few miles from the jungle, the tracks they were following crept closer to the road until the two were a mere fifty feet apart. With the road came the city, and soon they found themselves surrounded by suburbs, minivans cruising past at conservative speeds. Leroy longed for the crisp air-conditioning he imagined flowing throughout the vehicles. His shirt was drenched beneath his backpack, and the front wasn’t faring much better. Of all the summers to run away, he had to choose the hottest.

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