by Verna Clay
I have enclosed a letter for Misty. I only hope that someday she will forgive me for abandoning her. Perhaps it is needless for me to point out that the very nature of this letter affirms my immaturity. If I had not heard your agreement with your aunt's accusations, I might have found the courage to confront her, admit my failings, and try my best to improve myself for the sake of you and Misty. But after hearing you so quickly agree with her, I could not muster the desire to do so.
I wish you the best. You are a good man and I love you, but I must leave and experience a life not dependent upon another. I must make my own way in this world. I have sent an emergency wire to my parents letting them know the marriage has been canceled, so it is not necessary for you to telephone them.
Joy
Walker folded the letter and whispered, "Oh, my God, Joy. You heard wrong." With trembling hands he opened the letter addressed to his daughter.
My beautiful and sweet Misty,
I want you to know how much I not only adore you, but love you with my whole heart. That is why my heart is breaking as I write this letter. For the moment, you may not understand my leaving, but I pray someday you will.
My leaving has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. There is a special place that I have always known I must visit. I have put off going there for reasons unknown even to myself. However, the time has come.
As for you, my little darling, you are a gifted artist, much better than I, and you must continue painting every day. And you must also continue emerging from the cocoon you have wrapped yourself in. I know that soon you will spread your wings and fly like the butterfly.
Remember, I am always with you in spirit.
Joy
Walker lowered his head and allowed tears to drip. Joy's letters only confirmed the fact that he didn't want a "mature" woman. He wanted Joy, his "princess" who looked for "little people" under flower petals and scanned tree trunks for gnomes. He wanted a woman who would dress like a fairy princess just to make his daughter happy; a woman who never ceased being amazed by the wonders of nature; a woman who painted pictures with words as much as with paint; a woman who danced with his daughter in the yard; a woman who insisted he relax on the porch with her and talk about his day; a woman who was so kind that she even looked for truth in his aunt's lies. He wanted Joy!
Carefully, he placed the letters back in the envelope, not opening the one intended for the Jeromes, and unlocked his office door. Lifting the handset of his phone, he asked Gretchen to place a call to Jake Ryder in Two Rivers, Texas.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Cookie
Joy climbed the steps into standard class of a train departing Portland. The car ranked of body odor and was overcrowded, the same as the one that had carried her to Portland had been. And although she was aware of the vast difference between her previous railroad accommodations and now, she was determined to prove to herself and everyone else that she was not spoiled and pampered. If the vast majority of the population traveled in this manner, then so could she. Besides, she'd fled Oregon City so fast that the only money she had was the tidy sum she always kept strapped to her inner thigh. She hoped it was enough to bring her to her destination.
And then what?
She decided to leave that question unanswered. There was only so much she could deal with in a day. Walker's agreement with his hateful aunt had been the most devastating experience of her life. Even her grandfather's death hadn't been as excruciatingly painful.
Her gaze searched the crowded car for an empty seat and finally alighted on one in the back. She made her way down the narrow aisle, mentally ticking off necessities she would have to purchase. She needed one or two more dresses. She revised that to two pair of trousers and two shirts. Wearing pants would be more conducive to locating the place she was determined to find. And since she was already considered irresponsible and irreverent, she was going to dress in a manner befitting that belief.
The empty seat she had spotted was the middle one of three adjoining seats. Next to the window a young girl of perhaps fifteen or sixteen, briefly glanced at her before pressing her face back to the window. In the aisle seat, an elderly, slovenly man had his legs blocking the aisle.
"Excuse me, sir, but is that seat taken," Joy asked politely.
Red-rimmed eyes lifted in a wrinkled face that resembled a cloth that had been wrung out but never shaken, and the elderly man slurred, "Alas, yes. Please peruse the train for other available lodging."
Joy was so shocked by the man's response that she lost her train of thought. She was just about to turn and search for another seat when the girl beside the window said, "Shut up, you old codger. You know it ain't taken. You just want all the room fer yerself." She glanced at Joy. "Go ahead and have a seat. I been travelin' on the same train as this ol' drunk for a hundred miles and someone needs to put him in his place."
The man in question once again lifted bloodshot eyes to Joy's and mumbled something under his breath, but he shifted sideways to allow her access to the seat.
With trepidation and a pounding heart, Joy hugged the skirt of her dress to her body and slipped past the smelly man. She gingerly sat down and inhaled deeply, which only made her wrinkle her nose when she caught a whiff of the old man. She lifted her hand to her throat to keep the contents of her stomach from coming up and scanned the car for another seat. She sighed when she could find none available.
Turning to the girl beside the window she said, "Thank you."
The girl shrugged and replied, "Where're you headed?"
"I'm on my way to Montana. And you?"
"Don't know yet. I heard Colorado is right purdy, but cold in the winter. I don't like the cold. I been thinkin' 'bout maybe goin' to Texas or even to the desert in Arizona."
Joy said, "Surely, you're not traveling alone at such a young age?"
The girl looked at her funny. "I been travelin' on my own since I was twelve."
Suddenly, Joy was aware that she had just asked the girl the same question that had been asked of her many times. Before she had time to ponder this strange turn of events, the girl asked, "What's your name?"
"Joy Ryder. And yours?"
Amusement lit the young lady's eyes and she repeated, "Joyrider; I like that. My name is Cookie." She thrust out her hand.
Joy smiled and placed her hand in the girl's rough one. The sound of a loud snore interrupted their greeting and they both turned to see the man with a million wrinkles leaning his head sideways at an uncomfortable angle. He made a little gasping sound and then belted out another snore.
The whistle of the train interrupted conversation and the iron beast lurched forward to begin a slow chug. When the train was running smoothly, Cookie nodded toward the elderly man. "I see old guys like him all the time. It's the booze that finally gets the better of 'em when they can't find work anymore 'cause they're so old. I hear 'em talkin' amongst themselves 'bout the good-ol-days when they used to jump the rails and travel 'cross country. They got some good stories, I'll give you that. What's sad is this ol' guy will probably die in a back alley or in a makeshift camp alongside the tracks. Guys like him got a terror of bein' captured by the law and sent to one o' them detention houses where they're locked up indoors all the time. I got the fear o' the law myself 'cause they'd put me in an orphanage. I was stuck in one fer a year afore I escaped. It was horrible. We had all these rules we had to follow and was only allowed outside for an hour a day. Mostly, they was tryin' to teach us stuff so's we could get jobs someday. But I sure as hell don't wanna work on one o' them newfangled assembly lines stickin' part A into part B, or sewin' the legs on a pair of jeans."
After hearing the girl's confession, Joy decided her own upbringing had been even more sheltered than she had imagined.
Cookie cocked her head. "If you're travelin' all the way to Montana, why are you only carryin' a reticule. Where's your valise? Do you have a trunk in baggage?"
Joy felt embarrassed when she responded. "My departure was u
nexpected and eventually I'll have to buy necessities."
Cookie frowned. "Are you runnin' from somebody, too?"
"Ah, no. You could actually say I'm running from myself."
Cookie guffawed, "That's a new one. Maybe someday you can explain how a person runs from herself?"
Joy liked Cookie and asked, "How did you get the name Cookie?"
The girl smiled and Joy realized that beneath the ragged clothing and smudged face, was a very pretty young woman. Cookie said, "When I was a little girl and still had a mama, she used to make the best cookies. They was sprinkled with sugar when we had the money to buy it, and I used to lick the sugar off the cookie and beg mama to sprinkle some more." Cookie's eyes misted. "And she always did. Well, at least one or two more times. After that, I'd nibble on the cookie for the longest time 'cause I wanted to make it last. When my mama would tuck me in at night, she'd call me her li'l cookie."
Cookie turned her head to gaze out the window and Joy heard sadness in her voice when she said, "My given name is Polly, which I hate, so I always go by Cookie." She turned back around and asked, "What about you? Is Joyrider your pet name?"
"No. I've always been called Joy."
Cookie grinned and winked, "I like Joyrider."
Joy returned the girl's smile.
Silence stole over the women and Cookie returned her gaze to the window. Joy reached into her reticule, removed a hankie, held it to her nose to block the scent of the filthy hobo, and tried to find a comfortable position. Standard class was a far cry from the roomette she had enjoyed on previous journeys. Her eyes felt heavy and she closed them.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Fried Chicken
The slowing of the train awakened Joy and she stretched her neck that had been tilted at an awkward angle. Beside her, the smelly old man also woke and started coughing. It was a nasty cough and Joy actually felt sorry for him after hearing Cookie's story about transients.
She offered her handkerchief and the man's eyes met hers in a lucid moment. He shook his head and reached into the pocket of his filthy trousers to pull out a disgusting rag.
Cookie said, "We're pullin' in to some backwater town. It'll be night soon. You best be careful 'bout stayin' in the depot if yer train don't leave fer awhile."
Joy asked, "What about you? Are you continuing onward?"
"No. This is the end-of-the-line for me. I'll be livin' here fer awhile, lookin' fer work, so's I can buy another train ticket."
The train screeched as it pulled into the station and the passengers, anxious to depart the iron monster, began gathering their belongings. Joy couldn't blame them. The stagnant air had become unbearable and the seating excruciatingly uncomfortable. The old gent next to her stood to his feet and staggered. Without a backward glance he started down the aisle, but was halted by the multitude of passengers rushing to exit.
Cookie said, "We might as well wait 'til it clears. I got no desire to be pushed and shoved tryin' to get out of here."
Joy said, "I agree." Her stomach grumbled and she suddenly realized how hungry she was. She placed a hand over her belly and sighed. She sure hoped the depot had a café that was still open.
"You're such a greenhorn," said Cookie, "I'm kinda concerned 'bout yer safety. If you got kin folks, maybe you should git ahold of 'em."
Inhaling a long breath, Joy said, "I know this sounds crazy, but there's something I have to do on my own. I first got the idea when I was twelve, but I always figured it was impossible. Even when I started my journey a year ago, I thought it was a pipedream, but things have…well, taken a turn and I'm determined to turn with them." She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry that sounds so confusing, but it's the best way I know to describe it."
Cookie tilted her head. "Actually, I think I understand." She motioned toward the front of the car. "Looks like we can git off now."
The moment they stepped down the portable steps, Joy gulped fresh air into her lungs. Granted, it was filled with smoke from the train, but it was preferable to unwashed bodies. She hesitated and looked in both directions. Cookie hesitated beside her.
Cookie pointed, "If ya have to buy a ticket it'd be best if ya got it now and hung out in the diner fer as long as you can. After that, stay close to the ticket booth 'cause somebody's always there. That way, if a creep gives you trouble the clerk can call somebody to help." She smiled. "Hey, it's been nice meetin' ya, Joyrider. I wish you the best and God bless." She started to walk away.
Joy said, "Wait! Why don't we have supper together?"
Cookie turned and grinned. "I ain't got no money fer that. And I don't take charity, if you're offerin'."
"I'd like to buy you supper."
Cookie shook her head. "I may be poor, but I don't like handouts. I work fer my money." She lifted her hand and waved before turning and walking away again.
Joy called, "How about you come and work for me and I'll pay you with food and train tickets. We could go to Montana together."
Cookie halted and jerked around. "What kind o' work would I do fer ya?"
Joy laughed. "You'd teach me how to survive on my own. Maybe keep me from getting myself killed."
A smile tilted Cookie's lips and lit her eyes. "Well, if ever somebody needed teachin', it's you."
Joy stuck out her hand. "Is it a deal?"
Cookie walked back to Joy, stared down at her outstretched hand, and then grasped it in a firm shake. "It's a deal, Joyrider."
The bustle around the depot soon slowed as passengers entered the building or were met by loved ones and escorted to waiting automobiles or carriages. The baggageman unloaded the baggage car and Joy wished she had her trunk. Perhaps she had been foolish in leaving so suddenly, but now that she was on her way to Montana there was no turning back. Cookie grabbed her hand and pulled her into the depot.
Joy spotted a map of the train's route. "Looks like the train's headed for Pascoe in Washington and then Spokane, then it goes through Idaho and ends up in Whitefish, Montana. Do you know if Whitefish is near Glacier National Park?"
Cookie shrugged. "I don't know."
A voice, somewhat familiar, said, "It's not far, my dears."
Both women turned to see the filthy transient sitting on a nearby bench. He appeared to be in his right mind.
Joy said, "Thank you, sir. Are you feeling better?"
The man's bloodshot eyes studied her face and he smiled. Rather than answer her question, he said, "You best stay with that Cookie girl because she has smarts. She'll keep the pickpockets away from you."
Joy glanced at Cookie and then back at the old man. "What's your name, sir?"
His smiled widened and he glanced at Cookie. He said, "Miss Cookie, I think you need to enlighten this young woman that it isn't smart to talk to strangers; especially old drunks."
Cookie nodded her agreement.
Before she could reconsider her words, Joy said, "Sir, if you'll wash up, I'll invite you to supper with Cookie and me. I have a few dollars, and since we share a history of riding the rails together, it only seems fitting."
The old man laughed so hard he started coughing again. Joy thrust her hankie into his hand. When his coughing quieted, he said, "I had a bout with pneumonia a few weeks back. After I collapsed, the physician wanted to stick me in the hospital. I told him I'd rather stare down a king cobra. He said I'd be dead within a week. Looks like I proved him wrong." He looked from Joy to Cookie. "I would be honored to dine with you, but only if our Cookie agrees."
Cookie snorted. "Sure, join us. But if you try anything, I'll gut you with my knife."
The man stuck out his hand that was free of the hankie. "Fair enough. My name is Crusty…not Dusty or Rusty…but Crusty."
Cookie snorted again. "Is it 'cause o' all the crusty layers o' dirt on ya? I ain't shakin' yer hand 'til it's clean."
Intrigued, Joy watched the interaction between Crusty and Cookie as the two of them measured each other.
Crusty said, "Very astute observation, young Cookie, but no, the name belo
nged to a hound that traveled with me in my youth, and when he took his place with the hounds in the sky, I took on his name for sentimental reasons."
Cookie asked, "So what's yer real name?"
"It's of such little significance I shall keep it to myself. Now, regarding my dishabille, there's a lavatory beyond the posting boards. I shall go cleanse and return in a few minutes."
Cookie said, "It's gonna take more than a few minutes."
Joy could hear Crusty laughing all the way past the boards. Cookie turned on Joy. "If you had brains, you'd be dangerous. Why'd you invite that ol' sidewinder to eat with us?"
Joy shrugged. "I have a gut feeling he's okay. If not…" she shrugged again, "you'll earn your money keeping us safe."
Cookie shook her head and changed the subject. "I got to pee so bad I'm 'bout to wet my knickers. Let's go find the water closet."
After Joy and Cookie returned to the waiting room, they glanced around for Crusty. "Maybe he thinks we just left him behind," said Joy.
"Sounds like a good idea to me," responded Cookie.
They were surprised when a gentleman in an outdated gray wrinkled suit stepped forward. "Ladies, may I escort you to the dining room?"