Farraday Road

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Farraday Road Page 28

by Ace Collins

He marveled at her honest charm. She was nothing if not direct and sincere. Kaitlyn would have liked her, not just a little but a lot.

  Feeling beside her until her hands latched onto the arm of a chair, Janie took a step to her left and eased down on the leather cushion before turning her face back toward him. “I always wanted to go to Graceland.”

  “What?”

  “I said, I always wanted to go to Graceland.”

  “I know what you said, Janie, but I don’t understand.”

  “Just always wanted to see where Elvis lived. That’s all.”

  She said the word see. How could she see Graceland?

  “Oh, I get it. You’re wondering why a blind person would want to go sightseeing.”

  She was right, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Ah, no. I was just wondering why you, ah … wanted to …”

  “See it. It’s just two words. You can say them. I’m not going to break if you say ‘see.’”

  He took a deep breath. “Okay, why do you want to see Graceland?”

  She seemed suddenly pleased. “Like anyone else who goes there, I like his music. That makes me want to know more about him as a man.”

  Made sense.

  “I do see,” she said. “Just a bit differently than you do.”

  “There are many things you see and do better than me.”

  She grinned. “You said ‘see’ pretty easy that time. I’m sure you’ll figure out that I’m pretty tough.”

  “I learned that when you clubbed me in the water.” It had been just days ago, but it seemed like a lifetime. No, it seemed like a different lifetime. A much different lifetime. “What made you think about Graceland?”

  She grinned. “A part of it was considering my ‘things I have to do before I die’ list. The other was remembering Elvis’s hits. One of the first was ‘Mystery Train.’”

  “SO WAS OUR MYSTERY MAN WORTH THE STUDY?” Janie asked. “I figured you must be going through that old rolltop desk.”

  Lije nodded, then, realizing she couldn’t see that motion, leaned back in the squeaky wooden desk chair and tried to explain what he had learned. “Yes. He was from another time. He was a well-educated man, even spent time at Oxford. He was married once, but his wife died in her twenties of a sudden illness. I found some notes in his Bible indicating he spent the next decade looking for comfort in a bottle. His life changed one night when he was rolled by a group of orphaned street youths in London. Rather than get angry, it seems he felt sorry for the kids. That experience led to his giving up drinking and beginning to teach in one of the city’s early Sunday school programs. This led to his undertaking some pretty extensive Bible study. A few scribbled entries, coupled with three letters I read, told me that his life really changed when he began to understand the message found in Matthew 25:35–40.”

  “Ah.” Janie smiled. “Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do it unto me.”

  He was not surprised Janie knew that Scripture passage. He was convinced that nothing the woman did or knew could surprise him.

  “Yes. That changed his focus. But there was something else that drove his life. It’s all in his journal. Farnsworth had learned about the legend surrounding the undiscovered wealth of the Knights Templar. He devoted at least a year to studying this group, which propelled him on a quest to find the treasure. A decade later, after traipsing all over Europe and northern Africa, he finally translated a code and discovered where the treasure was hidden.

  “Then this is that treasure,” Janie said.

  “It is. There’s one entry where he reveals how shocked he was to learn that after traveling thousands upon thousands of miles all over the globe, he discovered that his goal was just a few miles from his boyhood home. His goal all along was to give away anything he found.”

  “That’s what he was doing with this train.”

  “He was. I believe he had given away some of the treasure during the journey that led him to this spot. There are notes in his text that hint at, but do not entirely explain, his complete plans. He has written a little about the Chinese, as if he knew of slums and people with great needs in San Francisco’s Chinatown. He also has several short entries on locations of Indian reservations. He also lists towns where former slaves lived. There are names of orphanages, a school for the blind.

  “Anyway, this trek doesn’t appear to be a random journey. I think he was going to specific spots where he could help people, turn his dreams into reality. And my sense is that he wanted to make sure that no one knew he was behind the gifts.”

  Janie smiled as she gently rocked in her seat. “What makes you think he gave the stuff away and it wasn’t stolen?”

  “I came across an item in his inventory that I once saw in a museum in Memphis. Another description sounds like something I once saw in Chicago.”

  “He sounds like a pretty wonderful guy. I’d like him. In one way or another he might have even touched me, or maybe you, with something he did.”

  “No doubt, which makes it all seem like a much greater loss because he was not able to fulfill his mission. He might well have rewritten the history of many places in the Old West if he could have given away the rest of the stuff to finance his special causes.”

  Rising from her seat, Janie moved slowly toward the car’s forward exit. She opened the door and was halfway onto the platform when she stopped and turned back toward Lije.

  “You know, he might well have fulfilled his part of the mission. Maybe he was meant to get only this far. If this really is now your treasure and the train that brought him to this place becomes your vehicle to freedom, then perhaps you’re the one meant to finish the job. Maybe Lije Evans, using the means found in a modern world, will meet the needs of those Farnsworth saw in his vision.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “It doesn’t matter if I do; it only matters if you believe it.”

  She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her. Lije closed the old Bible and peered through a window into the void. Did he believe?

  He laid his head down on the desk. He felt peace, the first peace he had known since that night on Farraday Road. In seconds, he drifted off. It would be hours before he awakened.

  AFTER HIS LONG NAP, LIJE JOINED MCGEE IN THE caboose and the two friends talked of everything from college sports to canoing down Spring River. They laughed. They were serious. But the one topic they ignored was the locomotive. And though the subject was never on their tongues, it was always central in their minds.

  It was midafternoon and everyone was tired. Tired not just from their efforts but tired of the darkness, tired of the prison that held their bodies and their spirits, and tired of wondering if they could beat the odds. And long odds they were, the longest any of them had ever known.

  Lije was worried about more than just the fate of Ole 74. It seemed that the time in the cavern had worn on McGee much more than on any of the others. He looked ten years older than he had just a week ago. He was also starting to have problems following conversations. In the past hour, he had asked the same question three times. Finally, aware of his mental stumbles, he quit talking and just stared out into the blackness. Without a word to Lije, he got up and stretched his arms and rubbed his neck. He walked out onto the back platform.

  For a while Lije allowed him his solitude. Then, needing to stretch his legs, he got up and joined him. “Sorry I got you into this.”

  “No reason to apologize,” McGee replied. “I welcomed the chance to get out of the office and away from the Jameson case for a few hours. It’s just a few more hours than I had figured it would be.”

  “We could consider these billable hours,” Lije said. He looked at McGee, who seemed as if he hadn’t heard a word.

  “It’s strange,” McGee said, “I’m starting to get used to the dark. It used to scare me, make me uneasy, but now I almost find it comforting. There’s a peace in this dark world that I never found in the other one. I’m beginning to think this wouldn’t be a
bad place to die.”

  They stood there in silence.

  “By the way, Lije, I found out what Janie does for a living. Did I tell you?”

  “What’s that?”

  “She works at a law office in Little Rock. She answers the phone, takes dictation, uses the word processor for correspondence, that sort of thing. Works with firms in picking juries. She may be a lot smarter than both of us put together.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “If we get out of here …” He didn’t finish the thought. Perhaps he couldn’t.

  From out of the darkness, Janie chimed in, “When I update my resume, I’ll list both of you as references.”

  The men both looked in the direction of her voice. In the shadows they could barely see Janie’s small form. Lije grabbed a lantern from the caboose and held it toward her. “You changed clothes again?”

  “Yep, new dress. I got grease on the other one. I’ve spent the last couple of hours under that huge metal puzzle. It seems that I’m better at working in situations where you can’t see to start a nut than Diana or the professor. Can you imagine that? By the way, what color is this one?”

  “Green, with yellow flowers,” McGee said.

  “Not my best color, at least that’s what I’ve been told. Personally, I think I look about the same in everything.”

  Wanting to laugh, but unsure if he should, Lije smiled, and McGee shuffled his feet uneasily.

  Janie shook her head. “No one in this group has a good sense of humor. Oh well, probably not time for joking anyway. I was sent back to tell you the engine’s ready. The professor would like y’all to come forward.”

  Walking much more confidently than the men holding their lanterns and squinting to find the path, Janie led the way back to the locomotive. Lije was surprised when she took a quick step to her right to miss tripping over a trunk that had been pulled out of the baggage car. He was shocked when she suddenly stopped.

  Holding up her right hand, she whispered, “Don’t move.”

  Lije had enough faith in her powers to freeze. McGee either didn’t hear her warning or didn’t think she was serious. After all, she had proven herself a jokester. He waved her off and quickly moved beyond where she stood.

  “No!” she screamed. Jumping to her right, she slammed into the big man, knocking him down onto the cave floor.

  “What are you doing? ” he yelled.

  She didn’t answer. Disoriented by the fall, she moved to her right on her knees. It was the wrong choice.

  Lije’s lantern light caught a movement on the cave floor. A snake, a big one. A cottonmouth. It stopped, raised its head, and struck. Its fangs found their mark, jabbing into Janie’s new dress.

  Lije stepped forward and kicked the snake. It flew into the air, whirling like a propeller, and hit the side of the boxcar. McGee, enraged, raced toward the slithering menace. Crazed by anger, he jammed his foot down on its head. He continued stomping and cursing until he had all but pounded the creature into the stone.

  Lije moved over to Janie. “Where did it get you?”

  “I don’t know. I heard it strike, but I didn’t feel anything.”

  “Stay here, I need to get my lantern.” He was back almost before the words had left his mouth. Inspecting her dress, he found where the snake had torn into it. About six inches above the bottomhem. Lifting the material, he ran his hand along her ankles, then her calves. Where is the bite? Every second counted. He had to find the bite mark, had to get the poison out before it went too deep into her system.

  “What’s the verdict? ” she asked.

  “I can’t find where it bit you.”

  “I wasn’t taking about that; I was asking about my legs. Do they meet your approval?”

  “Not funny, Janie. We need to treat the bite.” He was close to panic. “Help me out. Where is it?”

  “I told you. I didn’t feel it, so it must have just gotten my dress.”

  “Not you?”

  “No. If it had, I’d be screaming my head off. Now can I get up?”

  Grabbing her hand, he helped her to her feet. Thank God she was all right.

  “I’m sorry,” McGee said. “I should’ve listened. How bad is it?”

  “Well,” Lije said, “after a few stitches, the dress will be fine. The critter missed Janie altogether.”

  McGee picked Janie up and twirled her like a rag doll, almost squeezing the life out of her.

  “Great,” she whispered, “escaped a cottonmouth only to be snagged by a python.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He dropped her to the ground, but didn’t drop his grin. “Don’t worry about the snake. He’s visiting his ancestors. Now tell me, how did you know it was here?”

  “The smell.”

  “Snakes smell? ” Lije asked.

  “Of course, and it’s hardly pleasant.”

  “WHAT’S GOING ON BACK THERE? ” CURTIS YELLED. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” Lije hollered back, “we’re fine.” He smiled at Janie and then at McGee. “Shall we join our friends?”

  “Let me and my nose lead the way,” Janie announced, not waiting for any protest. And there was none.

  The trio made their way to the engine, where Cathcart was standing, wiping his hands on a rag. “Kent, Lije, Ole 74’s as ready as she’s going to be. I’m sure you can smell and see the smoke. Curtis has already started the fire in the box. In an hour or so, when the water boils and the pressure starts shooting up, we can see if she’ll work.

  “We’re going to get a lot of smoke and steam in here, so your breathing’s going to suffer. You might want to move to the smaller spring chamber or to the part of the cave where we first came in.”

  The old iron horse continued to moan, groan, pant, and pop, each sound louder than the last. All eyes were glued to the old machine, almost as if by staring at the locomotive they could will it back to life.

  “Anything you need us to do? ” McGee asked.

  “Not right now,” Cathcart replied. As Curtis added more wood, the professor checked the gauges. “The pressure’s good and the wood’s burning hotter than I figured. Faster too. Of course, it’s had a long time to dry out. I think we’ll be ready in another twenty minutes. Diana, why don’t you let me stoke the fire for a while?”

  Lije climbed up in the cab. “Let me feed the fire, Dr. Cathcart. You take a few minutes to rest.”

  After tossing a few pieces of wood into the flames, Lije asked what he knew no one else dared to bring up. “Is it going to work?”

  Cathcart spoke in a hushed tone, serious, nothing like the jolly banter he had shown a few minutes before. “I think the train’ll move, but do I believe it will knock out that wall? I have my doubts.” Leaning down, his words barely audible, he said, “I removed the safety valve. I’m going to build up more pressure than is recommended. I’m hoping that’ll give me more speed, but it might also lead to the boiler’s exploding on impact. Therefore I want to make sure everyone is well away from this engine when it hits the wall.”

  “What’ll happen to you if this sucker blows?”

  “I’ll die with my hand on the throttle, scalded to death by the steam.”

  “No,” Lije said, “you can’t.”

  Cathcart smiled. “Don’t worry. Can you think of a better way for a railroad nut like me to go out?”

  There had to be a better way—like old age. Lije just couldn’t lose another person close to him. And all of these folks were now close to him.

  “Lije, there is one thing that really worries me,” Cathcart said. “What if this old gal does explode? That could cause the whole cave structure to give way. Then we all die, crushed by tons of rock.”

  Lije looked around at the cave and shrugged. “Well, that’s probably much better than starving to death in the dark.”

  “What are you guys talking about? ” Curtis asked as she climbed back into the cab.

  “How nice it will be to order pizza again.” Lije jumped back down to the gro
und, patted Ole 74, and walked over to where Janie was standing. McGee quit pacing and joined them. In silence they waited, their eyes and ears tuned in to the sounds of a mechanical monster fighting to be brought back to life.

  “Stand clear!” Cathcart shouted from the cab.

  The locomotive belched a huge blast of smoke. Steam burst from around the wheels. The engine’s driver arms jerked into action and the big wheels moved a half rotation backward, then another half rotation. But the train did not move. The wheels only spun on the tracks. The professor adjusted the controls and leaned his head out the window of the cab. Through the haze of smoke and steam, he watched the iron wheels struggle.

  “He’s not going to be able to move it,” McGee shouted over the noise.

  Not taking his eyes from the engine, Lije yelled back, “It’ll move. Just let the professor get up some power. The wheels’ll get some traction.” His voice indicated hope, but his tone reflected a sense of apprehension. His words were more an effort to convince himself than McGee.

  Come on, you mechanical marvel. You’ve got one more run in you.

  AT FIRST THE IRON HORSE FOUGHT THE TRACK TO a stalemate. Then, a few inches at a time, Ole 74 began to jerk backward. The trio on the ground cheered as the engine picked up steam, backing slowly away from the wall.

  Curtis grabbed a lantern and jumped from the cab’s ladder. She jogged beside the train as if she were racing it. When she reached the end of the tracks, she waved the light from side to side as a marker for the now smiling engineer.

  Slowing the engine, Cathcart continued to ease the cars backward over two hundred more yards of track toward the far wall. Finally, when Curtis held the lantern motionless, he hit the brakes, stopping the train just as the caboose nudged against the rock and dirt wall.

  “Let’s do it!” McGee yelled, running up to the cab. Holding Janie’s hand, Lije followed a few steps behind. He also wanted to cheer, but decided to save it for the moment the train crashed through the rock.

  Grabbing his tools and an oilcan, Cathcart backed down the ladder to the ground. He uncoupled the locomotive from the other cars. Curtis made her way back to Ole 74 and started adding more logs to the fire.

 

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