by Peter Howe
“Ow. Eeee. Be careful. Oooh, that stings” and other words to that effect came out in a constant stream of complaint.
“Goodness gracious,” said Felicia, “what a fuss. Couldn’t you be just a little more pit-bullish?”
“I’m very sensitive,” whined Lug.
“You certainly are,” agreed Felicia, “but if any of these get infected you’ll be very sick as well.”
Her first-aid work over, she decided that it was her bedtime. She took her sleeping bag off the backpack, unrolled it, removed her boots, and climbed in. Within minutes her gentle snoring indicated that she was fast asleep. The dogs, Lug in particular, were still too wired by the excitement of the evening’s events to follow her.
“It did hurt when she put that stuff on,” he said defensively.
Waggit made no comment.
“How come,” Lug continued after a pause, “she can understand what we say, and we can understand her?”
“She just can,” said Waggit. “She says all Uprights could if they tried, but they’ve forgotten how.”
“Well, that’s a blessing,” declared Lug. “I wouldn’t want them to know everything I said. That would be way too scary.”
“I thought,” said Waggit, “that pit bulls weren’t scared of anything.”
“That’s the curse of our breed,” Lug replied. “Everyone expects us to be fighters, and some of us just aren’t. All I want is a quiet life, not this constant confrontation.”
“Well,” said Waggit, “I don’t think your quiet life’s going to start tonight, so you might as well get some sleep so you’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
“Sometimes it seems as if it’s always going to be like this,” Lug said with a mournful sigh, but he was to get no sympathy from the others, for Waggit was also drifting off to sleep. As he lost consciousness he could still hear the click of Lug’s claws on the floor as he paced up and down.
7
Lug Tags Along
The following morning Felicia was already up when the dogs awoke. Waggit watched her sleepily as she dug into her backpack and pulled out some food for breakfast. This fascinated him because the bag always seemed to contain more stuff than it could possibly hold. He wasn’t fascinated enough, however, to stop from eating the food she put in front of him—today’s menu was cans of chipped beef and was lip-smackingly delicious.
When the meal was finished and Felicia had cleared away the dishes, she stood up and looked around. What she saw wasn’t encouraging; just field after field of rugged, rock-filled countryside mixed with thickly wooded areas that sometimes went on for miles. There were farm buildings in the distance, and already she could hear the sound of tractors and other equipment being started for the day’s work. There were no major highways in view, nor any other form of transportation that would get them on their way. She turned to Lug.
“Are you from around here?” she inquired. “I’m not familiar with this area.”
“I’ve lived here all my life,” he answered.
“Tell me,” she said, “how far are we from the railroad?”
“I don’t know,” replied Lug. “When I said I lived around here I meant in the town. I’ve never been this far out.”
“It’s over there,” said Waggit, pointing his nose in one direction. “I can hear it; there’s something going through now.”
“You’re right,” agreed Lug. “I hear it now. It’s slowing down. Oh, no, it’s picking up speed again.”
Felicia tilted her head to one side, straining to catch a sound.
“You dogs,” she said. “Your hearing never ceases to amaze me. Well, that’s the direction we should go.” She turned toward Lug. “So,” she said to him, “it’s been a pleasure to meet you, and maybe our paths will cross again sometime. Try to keep those wounds as clean as possible, and you should be okay.”
Lug appeared crestfallen, as if he was about to burst into tears.
“You mean…?” His voice trembled. “You mean…”
“What’s the matter?” asked Felicia.
“You mean,” said Lug, “you’re leaving me?”
“We have to,” explained Felicia. “Waggit and I have a long journey to make. Besides, your family will be worried about you.”
“I don’t have a family,” Lug said with a sigh.
“Nobody?” said Felicia. “You don’t live with any people?”
“No,” replied Lug. “The Upright at the bar feeds me from time to time, but he’s the only one that I see a lot. Can’t I come with you?”
Felicia considered this for a moment, but Waggit did not look happy with the suggestion.
“If Waggit doesn’t mind, then I would have no objection,” she finally said.
“But he won’t know anybody when he gets to New York,” Waggit protested.
“I don’t know anybody here,” said Lug. “Or hardly anybody.”
“But New York’s a tough town,” the other dog insisted.
“You mean they do worse there than throw rocks at you when they get drunk?” asked Lug fearfully.
“No, I suppose not,” Waggit conceded. “I guess if Felicia doesn’t mind, it’s all right with me if you come with us.”
“Thank you,” said Lug. “You won’t regret it.”
Waggit was not so sure.
Felicia decided that they should try to complete at least part of the trip by train.
“Do they allow dogs on trains?” Waggit asked, not quite sure of what trains were.
“Bless you,” said Felicia, “the trains we’ll be traveling on don’t even allow people on them. There hasn’t been a passenger train in these parts for years. No, we’ll be going freight.”
Waggit wasn’t quite sure what “going freight” meant either, but anything without people sounded good to him. They headed in the direction the noise of the train seemed to be coming from, wherever possible crossing fields and open countryside rather than roads. They stayed by the stone walls that marked the edges of the fields, trying to be inconspicuous. This also helped in one field, where a bull eyed them suspiciously. Felicia remembered the phrase in cattle language for “Good morning,” which she yelled out to him cheerily, but it did nothing to improve his humor, and they were relieved to move on to the next meadow.
They had much better luck with four horses grazing in a paddock near one of the farms. At first they were as startled that Felicia could talk to them as both Waggit and Lug had been and, being horses, shied away nervously, but when they realized she was no threat they happily chatted with her for several minutes. They knew where the railroad was, and because they had covered the area extensively on trail rides, they were able to tell Felicia the best way to get there without attracting too much attention.
Finally the three travelers saw the embankment upon which the tracks ran, and they walked in the fields next to it with Felicia leading the way in complete silence. She was obviously looking for something.
“You said you heard the train slow down?” she asked the two dogs.
They replied that they had both heard it, but that it picked up speed again soon afterward.
“We need to find where it slowed,” she explained, “because that will be the only place where we’ll be able to get on board.”
Waggit ran ahead, happy to have something to do. Every so often he would sprint up the bank, but he couldn’t see anything that would cause the train to reduce speed. Suddenly the land went uphill until the tracks and the fields were on the same level. The rails went around a sharp bend, and then he saw it—a railroad crossing over a road with two barriers on either side, their arms pointing to the sky, followed by another steep turn in the track.
“Here,” he yelled to the others. “This must be where the trains slow down.”
Felicia and Lug hurried to catch up with him, Felicia striding along but Lug lumbering beside her, panting profusely.
“Well done, Waggit,” she congratulated him. “You found it. This is the perfect place to wait.”
/> She put her pack down on the grass next to the road and sat on it, first of all taking out a bottle of water, some of which she drank, the rest of which she shared with the dogs. It was now around the middle of the day and the sun was quite hot. There was no shade, and the animals were soon panting. Several cars and trucks passed along the road, but their drivers paid no heed to the strangely dressed woman and the two dogs. Suddenly there was a clanging sound that made both dogs leap to their paws, and the barriers began to descend.
“Okay,” said Felicia, “let’s wait until we see a suitable car, one that we can jump on to.”
“I can’t jump,” whined Lug, “at least not very well.”
“This comes as no surprise,” she remarked, looking at his chunky body, “so I will help you get on board before I jump myself. Waggit will go first since he’s the fastest.”
“If he’s the fastest, why doesn’t he go last?” complained Lug.
Waggit was beginning to find the dog’s constant grumbling a little irritating, but he tried to answer him as patiently as he could.
“You see, if I’m already on the train I can help Felicia get you on board quicker. That will give her more time to get on herself.”
“Absolutely correct, Waggit,” Felicia declared. “Now let’s get ready.”
The sound of the approaching train was getting louder, and as it came into sight it blew two sharp blasts of its whistle.
“Look for a car that has enough space for the three of us to sit comfortably,” said Felicia while she secured the pack to her back.
As it came closer to the crossing the train slowed to almost walking pace. The engine groaned as it went by, straining to pull its long line of wagons. The first of these had a large cylindrical tank mounted on it that left no room for anyone, either dog or human, to sit. They waited tensely as car after car passed, each one identical to the first.
“Oh, come on,” said Felicia. “There must be something else on a train as long as this.”
But as it turned out there wasn’t. After what seemed like hours the last tanker car passed, pushed by another engine at the rear.
“What rotten luck,” said Felicia. “Now we’ll have to wait for the next one.”
“Why don’t we walk on a little way while we’re waiting?” Waggit asked, longing to get out of the sun.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Felicia. “We’ll never get a spot better than this. It’s worth waiting here. The train has to slow for both the crossing and the bend, and when the locomotive goes around the curve the engineer can’t see us get on, so it’s perfect. I know it’s hot, but with a bit of luck we won’t have to wait too long.”
Luck, however, seemed to be in short supply that day, and it was hours before the dogs’ ears pricked up at the sound of the next train. By that time they were dispirited and irritable, and even Felicia’s soothing influence was beginning to wear thin. Waggit actually growled at Lug when the pit bull lay down too close to him. Their mood wasn’t improved any by the fact that once again the first cars on this train were tankers, but then they saw a line of boxcars that looked promising. As they rumbled past, Felicia stood back a little bit so that she could get a better look at what was coming.
“That one,” she said, pointing to a car, the doors of which were open. “That is the best.”
This train was moving faster than the previous one, but Waggit was easily able to leap aboard. He turned to look and see how the other two were doing. Lug was lumbering along, more or less keeping up, with Felicia close behind him, although she was slowed down by the weight and size of her backpack. She bent down and grabbed the pit bull by the scruff of his neck and threw him into the car. Then her foot caught in one of the railroad ties, and with a cry of pain she fell beside the track.
8
Freight Train to Nowhere
Waggit looked out of the doors to see Felicia on the ground, rolling over and over.
“Felicia,” he yelled in panic, but she did not reply. He didn’t know what to do next. If he leapt out to help her, Lug would be left by himself in the boxcar, unable to get out, and if he didn’t he would be separated from her maybe forever. All day long he had been regretting his agreement to let the pit bull join them but no time more so than now.
The decision to jump or not was nearly made for him as the train lurched forward and almost pitched him back onto the tracks, but he managed to regain his balance and stay on his paws. The train was beginning to pick up speed, and when he looked out again Felicia was nowhere to be seen.
“This is terrible,” Lug said.
“It is,” agreed Waggit.
“We’ll never get to New York now,” continued the pit bull. “I mean, she’s the only one who knows the way. Who’s going to look after us if she’s not here?”
“Actually,” said Waggit irritably, “I was thinking more along the lines of wouldn’t it be terrible if she’s hurt herself.”
“You’re absolutely right,” said Lug. “If she’s hurt herself she’ll never be able to catch up with us, plus she’s got all the food.”
Waggit was beginning to realize that it was useless to talk to Lug about anything that didn’t directly affect him, and sympathy for the plight of another simply wasn’t something he felt. So he said nothing, sat down, and looked around. The car had obviously been used to transport animals of some kind, and it still smelled of them and their hay.
Lug was adding his own smell of fear, and despite himself Waggit felt sorry for him. He seemed scared of everything and everyone, and here he was stuck in a train car that he couldn’t get out of that was going who knew where with a dog he’d met just the day before. The only reason he had wanted to come with them in the first place was that he was more frightened of going back to the town than he was of the journey.
“It’ll be okay,” Waggit assured him, sounding more confident than he felt.
“I dunno,” said Lug. “I hope you’re right.”
“How come if you never lived with Uprights you’ve got a name?” Waggit asked, trying to take the other dog’s mind off his present situation by changing the subject.
“The Upright at the bar,” replied Lug, “the one that used to feed me. He started to call me big lug, and it just sort of stuck. How about you? You’ve got a strange name. How did you get yours?”
“The team gave it to me,” said Waggit. “When I was younger my tail used to wag a lot when I was excited or scared and so that’s why they called me Waggit.”
“What’s the team?” asked Lug.
“Oh, they’re a pack of dogs that I lived with in the park. They saved my life. I’m going back to them when I get to New York, if they’ll have me, if there still is a team, of course.”
“Can I join the team when we get there?” Lug asked. “If we get there.”
“Let’s see when we get there,” said Waggit, emphasizing the when to reassure himself as much as Lug.
The two dogs became silent and morosely looked out the open doors as the countryside sped by. It was beginning to get dark now, and the darker it got the worse their fears became. Objects that they would have hardly noticed during the day flashed past like great, threatening black masses. The two of them edged farther and farther away from the open doors until, without realizing it, they were both in the far corner of the car, huddled together for comfort. Then, as fatigue overcame them and they were rocked by the “clackety-clack” rhythm of the train, they finally fell asleep.
Sometime later they were awoken by the screeching sound of metal on metal as the train slowed down and changed direction. When it had settled into its new course it didn’t pick up speed, however, but proceeded at a slow pace, and then gradually came to a stop with much hissing of brakes and clanging of steel. It was still dark, and the two dogs were scared of what might happen next. An eerie silence surrounded them, and Waggit summoned all his courage and peered out, but he could only see blackness.
“What do we do now?” asked Lug, his voice
quavering with fear.
“I don’t know,” said Waggit. “I don’t know whether we should stay here or jump down and run.”
“Jump?” cried Lug incredulously. “Jump? I can’t jump. It’s too high. I’d break every bone in my body.”
“Better that than be caught by the Ruzelas and get taken to the Great Unknown,” Waggit assured him. “I know—I’ve been there and I’d take broken bones and freedom any day.”
“What’s a Ruzela?” asked Lug.
“They’re people that all wear the same stuff and try to catch you,” said Waggit.
“What’s the Great Unknown?” asked Lug.
“It’s where they take dogs that have been caught. I was caught once,” said Waggit.
“If you’ve been there and know what it’s like, why is it called the Great Unknown?” inquired Lug.
“Because I’m the only one who ever made it back alive,” replied Waggit.
“So why if—” began Lug.
Waggit cut him short.
“Will you stop asking questions?” he said irritably. “They’re not going to help us get out of here. Be quiet while I think.”
Lug fell sulkily silent while Waggit assessed the situation. The train might start again in a few minutes, but as he looked out the open door he thought this was unlikely. They had stopped in an area full of boxcars similar to the one they were in, and many of them looked as if they had been there for some time. Weeds had begun to grow around the tracks and underneath some of the cars. If the two dogs remained there and a railroad worker came along and closed the door, they would be trapped. Waggit decided what they should do.
“Lug,” he said, “come and stand by the door and keep watch. There’s something I have to do.”
Without questioning what it was, Lug went to the opening and cautiously peered out. As he did Waggit ran up and, with his shoulders against the other’s rear end, pushed him with all his might, and the two of them tumbled out of the car and onto the tracks.