The Insane Train

by Sheldon Russell

  Hook pursed his lips. “One did escape as I recall.

  “I’ll talk to Frenchy.”

  He followed Frenchy back to the engine.

  “We’re going to have to walk in, Frenchy. There’s no transportation.”

  Frenchy squinted up at the sun. “Good planning. How long you figure it will take?”

  “Most of the day. I can’t be sure.”

  “They’re hollering for these outfit cars, Hook. They got a crew put up in a hotel. We got to get back soon.”

  “You think this ole can will make that grade over the trestle?”

  Frenchy fished a cigar out of his pocket. “Well, she’ll be some lighter without passengers, but I can’t be sure. We can split the load like before if we have to.”

  Hook shaded his eyes with his hand. Fort Supply loomed in the distance like a haunted castle. The town spread out at its base. Already the heat quivered up from the tracks, and the buzz of locusts rose and fell about them.

  “It’s walk or turn them loose,” he said.

  “There’s enough trouble in this world without yard dogs and mentals running around loose,” Frenchy said. “Me and the bakehead will catch a wink in the supply car. We are overdue anyway. But I can’t wait forever.”

  “Thanks,” Hook said. “I’ll get back soon as I can. Check on Mixer, will you? I wouldn’t want him to overheat.”

  “Oh, hell no, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to that goddang killer dog.”

  On the way back, Hook found Oatney sitting on the step of the boys’ car. She’d unbuttoned her blouse against the heat. Perspiration shined on her forehead and in the depths of her cleavage.

  “We going to sit here and die or what?” she asked.

  Hook gave her a cigarette and took one for himself. He leaned over to light it and could feel the heat from her body.

  “We’re going to walk them in,” he said.

  “Walk?”

  “It’s not that far,” he said. “Help Santos get ready, and we’ll gather up down there at the caboose.”

  Oatney leaned back on the step, her bosoms rolling like ocean waves.

  “It isn’t safe, Hook,” she said. “Those men are dangerous.”

  “I know,” Hook said. “But we can’t leave them here. Anyway, it isn’t so far.”

  From there, he searched out Andrea.

  “Couldn’t they have lined up transportation?” Andrea asked.

  Hook kicked his foot up on the car step and placed his elbow onto his knee. Despite the heat, Andrea’s eyes snapped with energy.

  “To tell you the truth, Baldwin isn’t hitting on all cylinders,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just out of it.”

  Andrea locked her hands behind her head and looked out at the fort. Her lean stomach peeked from under her blouse.

  “He’s been under a lot of pressure, I guess.” She stretched and slipped her hand into Hook’s. “You are going with us, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not my business now, you know. But Frenchy said he’d wait.”

  Andrea smiled. “Things will be alright with you along.”

  “Let’s hope. Tell Seth to move to the end of the train. We’ll strike out from there.”

  At the top of the steps, Andrea turned. “I’ll miss our smoke breaks,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

  First came Seth and Andrea with the women, all carrying their supplies and blankets. The heat beat on the women’s bare heads, and sweat trickled down their cheeks. Bertha walked next to Seth, her arm looped through his. Lucy snapped her fingers and swung her doll by its hands.

  “We’re here,” Andrea said, “in a fashion.”

  “Where are the Indians?” Bertha asked.

  “There aren’t any,” Andrea said.

  “Did they die of old age?” Esther asked.

  “Yes,” Andrea said.

  “They cut Seth’s face,” Esther said.

  Just then Doctor Helms came from down the line. The men shuffled along behind her, their hands cuffed. Roy and Doctor Baldwin brought up the rear. Baldwin’s arms drooped at his sides, and his head hung down.

  Now and again, one of the men would stop as if he’d forgotten something, forgotten perhaps what the next move should be. They gathered at the side of the tracks away from the women. Sweat ringed their necks and underarms.

  Oatney and Santos assembled on the opposite side with the boys. Oatney had taken the lead, and she now stood with one foot propped on the rail, her arm spiked on her waist. Her silver necklace shimmered in the sunlight. She reminded Hook of some exotic Indian princess instead of a rail hooker.

  “Okay,” Hook said, waving his arm above his head. “Here we go.”

  They headed for town, looking like some bizarre circus parade, the women circling about, the boys quiet with anxiety, the men hobbling along like zombies.

  As they approached the main part of town, Hook spotted a crowd gathered near the gas station. The man who stepped out wore a full gray beard and leaned forward at the waist. He held up his hand for them to stop.

  “What’s the problem?” Hook asked.

  “My name’s Herbert Crumling. I’m mayor of this here town. This is Nadine,” he said, pointing to a woman in her fifties, who was studying Hook from a distance. “She runs the drugstore and pharmacy. Shorty over there owns this filling station. These other folks are concerned citizenry.”

  Shorty pushed a greased-stained ball cap to the rear of his head. His two front teeth were yellow with nicotine, and the mole on his nose looked like a dead spider.

  “Concerned about what?” Hook asked.

  “About these here people,” Crumling said.

  “We’re moving into the fort,” Hook said. “There’s going to be a new hospital in town.”

  “Now,” the mayor said, hooking his thumbs into his waistband, “that’s what we wanted to talk about. We had a town meeting, you see. Fact is, we’ve concerns about these folks, given the general nature of things, if you know what I mean.”

  Andrea looked at Baldwin, who didn’t respond. She stepped forward.

  “That facility has been purchased by us for a mental institution,” she said. “We’ve every right to move in.”

  Ruth started to say something, and Andrea took hold of her arm.

  “You may have a right,” Mayor Crumling said, “but it can be uncomfortable living where you ain’t welcome.”

  “It’s a forty-mile drive for medications,” Nadine said.

  The men behind Nadine grumbled their approval and stirred about. Andrea glanced over at Hook, alarm on her face.

  Shorty stuck a toothpick in his mouth. “Same with gas. Don’t know if I can keep enough on hand to take care of my regulars and that looney bin out there, too.”

  Hook lit a cigarette and looked back over at the inmates. They were silent, their eyes trained on him. He turned back to the citizens of Fort Supply.

  “By the looks of things, times might be a little hard around here,” he said.

  Shorty nodded his head. “The dang highway passed us up. I can remember when this town hopped. I trucked in gas twice a week.”

  “We’re three short on the town council,” the mayor said. “Ben Hadley and Ross Dicks fought over trash rates for three years. Now, folks have to haul it to the dump their own damn selves.”

  “Don’t know if you folks have thought about it,” Hook said. “But this hospital will be hiring all kinds of help: cooks, guards, groundkeepers, even orderlies. There’s likely to be a pretty good boost in tax revenue, too.”

  “They be hiring local?” Shorty asked.

  Hook looked over at Baldwin. “That’s been our intent all along,” Baldwin said.

  “Give us a couple days to settle in,” Hook said. “We’ll post a notice at the post office for interviews.”

  Mayor Crumling glanced over at Shorty and Nadine. “Well, now,” he said. “We’re a friendly enough town and wouldn’t want
you to think otherwise.”

  “I can see that you are,” Hook said. “And we certainly appreciate it. We’ve been wondering about the utilities out to the fort.”

  “They’re on city hookup,” the mayor said. “Shorty here doubles up on working the utilities.”

  “We haven’t had a chance to get money down just yet,” Hook said.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Crumling said. “I figure you ain’t going nowhere. We’ll have them on by day’s end tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” Hook said. “It’s a comfort to know we’re moving into such a fine town. We’ll be interviewing for jobs soon.”

  As they moved out, the citizens parted way, gawking at the mentals, figuring which job might best fit their needs.

  As the procession approached the fort, they came into a long drive bordered on both sides by large elms. All the buildings were of red brick with faded white veranda porches. An old guardhouse stood solid against the elements, perhaps the best structure on the grounds. Most of the cells had been located on the second floor. To the far side was the ordnance sergeant’s quarters and the officers’ quarters. The barracks were three, two of which leaned dangerously to the north.

  Doctor Helms approached Hook. “The obvious choice for the security-ward is the guardhouse. Perhaps you and the others could help me get them settled?”

  “Alright,” Hook said.

  Andrea and the others waited in the shade while Hook, Roy, and Doctor Helms moved the men into the upstairs cells of the guardhouse. Baldwin sat in the shade of the porch, his face pale and his eyes listless.

  Though the place smelled of dust and rat droppings, the guardhouse had weathered well. The iron doors slid shut with a clang, and, when the last man had been locked in, Doctor Helms found an old chair downstairs and sat in it.

  “I’ll take them off the heavy meds now,” she said. “I can handle things by myself from here. We’ll work at cleaning the place up later.”

  “We’ll go help the others,” Hook said.

  “Yes,” she said, wiping her brow with her dress tail. “Put me in the officers’ quarters; Andrea and the other orderlies can stay in the ordnance sergeant’s quarters. The remaining inmates can be housed in the barracks.”

  “What about Doctor Baldwin?” Hook asked.

  “I’ll take care of him in my quarters. His medications need attention.”

  Hook nodded for Roy to follow him.

  “Mr. Runyon,” Doctor Helms said. “When things have settled down, I really must talk to you about Doctor Baldwin. I’m afraid some difficult decisions have to be made.”

  “Doctor Helms, my duties are related to railroad security. The conduct of your institution is really not under my authority. Frenchy says he’ll leave me at track’s edge if I don’t wind things up pretty quickly.”

  “Doctor Baldwin has slipped even farther into depression, you see. If there’s no improvement…Given no other alternative, it looks as if I’ll be taking over.”

  “I’ll go help the others, Doctor Helms, and be on my way.”

  He found Andrea and the girls nearly asleep under the elms. He took them to the quarters, where they searched out rooms and made beds as best they could. Transoms over the doors were the single source of fresh air in the sweltering rooms, and the women fanned themselves against the heat.

  Santos and Oatney took the boys to the upper floor, where Oatney spent an hour digging the remains of an owl’s nest from out of the chimney.

  When all had at last settled down, Hook searched out Andrea. Cobwebs clung to her clothes, and a black smudge decorated the end of her nose. They moved around the corner of the barracks to talk and take refuge from the sun. Sagebrush and prairie grass stretched to the sky behind them.

  “Frenchy is waiting on me,” he said.

  Andrea’s eyes welled. “You’re going to leave now?”

  “Andrea, would it surprise you to know that Doctor Helms has contacted the American Board of Psychiatry about Doctor Baldwin?”

  Andrea paused. “They don’t always agree about things. Sometimes Doctor Baldwin lets his emotions influence his decisions. Doctor Helms is all business all the time.”

  “I better go now,” he said.

  “Will I see you again?”

  “Yes.”

  She leaned into him. “But when?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “It’s scary here alone,” she said. “So far away from everything.”

  “I’m sure Seth and the others will be here, for a while at least.”

  He tipped her chin up with his finger and kissed her.

  “You be careful, Andrea.”

  “I’ll be careful. Hook,” she said, taking his hand. “Come back soon.”

  Frenchy had the bullgine up and the cars coupled by the time Hook got there. Frenchy climbed down from the cab to check the side rod.

  “It’s about time,” he said. “I didn’t sleep a wink in that goddang supply car. That bakehead snores like a trip-hammer, and it was too hot to die.”

  “I’ll be in the bouncer,” Hook said. “Try not to run this steam pot into the gorge, will you?”

  “Oh, sure, sure,” Frenchy said. “I sure as hell need your advice, don’t I?”

  “Did you water my dog?”

  “He humped my leg the whole time. Why don’t you get the poor son of a bitch a friend?”

  “Maybe you ought to take a bath once in a while.”

  “I intend to if I ever get back to civilization.”

  Frenchy climbed up on the ladder, leaning back. “What about that stuff in the supply car?”

  “What stuff?”

  “All them dang records of Baldwin’s.”

  Hook looked down line. “Damn,” he said. “They didn’t take their records?”

  “Given their planning skills, they ought go into law enforcement,” Frenchy said.

  Hook lit a cigarette and watched the buzzards circle in the blue.

  “Frenchy,” he said. “Without that caboose on, you figure you could make that grade the first run?”

  “Guaranteed,” he said. “What the hell you up to, Hook?”

  “Move those records into the bouncer, Frenchy, and uncouple her from the train. I’m staying here.”

  31

  Hook watched the train disappear into the prairie, black smoke lifting into the blue. When it had faded, the silence pressed in. He let Mixer out of the caboose and waited as he sniffed and marked out his territory.

  “Come on, Mixer,” he said. “I’ve got to call Eddie.”

  He found a pay phone at Shorty’s filling station and broke out a dollar’s worth of change. Lighting a cigarette, he waited for Eddie to answer.

  “What do you mean you are still there?” Eddie asked.

  “Frenchy couldn’t make the grade with the bouncer on,” Hook said. “And I knew what a hurry you were in to get the outfit cars rolling.”

  “Goddang it, Hook, couldn’t you have left the caboose and come back with the train?”

  “Hell, Eddie,” he said. “You wouldn’t leave your house behind, would you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re up to,” Eddie said. “But Topeka’s got that hearing scheduled in a couple weeks. You damn well better be there for it.”

  “The Chief doesn’t run out here, Eddie. How am I supposed to get there?”

  “I suggest you catch a bus, walk if you have to, but if you don’t show up for that hearing, you can check in your card. There’s not a damn thing I can do for you.”

  Hook dropped his cigarette on the floor and squashed it out with his foot. Mixer looked at him through the door of the phone booth.

  “Alright, Eddie, I’ll catch a bus out, but don’t blame me if the pickpockets move in while I’m playing footsie with the disciplinary board.”

  When he stepped out of the booth, Shorty waved him over to the station.

  “Jeez,” he said. “That’s an ugly dog, even for these parts.”

  “He has a winn
ing personality,” Hook said. “When do you figure to have the water on out to the fort?”

  “Well,” he said, burying his hands in his pockets, “them lines out there ain’t been used in quite a spell. You might have leaks sprouting up here and there.”

  “I’ll leave all that to the experts, Shorty,” he said. “I’m just a goddang yard dog and not a very good one at that.”

  “Yes sir,” Shorty said, clamping a cigarette between his teeth. “The pressure’s up, and the fort’s downhill. Don’t see a major problem.”

  “You should think about applying for a maintenance job out there.”

  “Yes sir. I’ve been giving that some thought, alright. Pumping gas ain’t what it used to be.”

  Andrea laid her broom down and covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes lit up, and a smile spread across her face.

  “Hook, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Frenchy wasn’t sure he could make the grade with the caboose on, so I decided to stay behind.”

  “Wonderful,” she said. “You’ll be staying here awhile, then?”

  “Eddie’s insisting I make the hearing in Topeka. In the meantime, maybe I can help out.”

  “I can use all the help I can get.”

  “Let me check in with Helms, and I’ll be back.”

  Hook found Doctor Helms going into the guardhouse, and he followed her in. Anguished sounds emanated from the cells, and molten eyes peered through the bars. Van Diefendorf, his skin as translucent as a newborn, stared out from under his blond brows. Without the effects of the chloral hydrate, the evils had reared up from out of the darkness.

  The heat seeped from the thick walls, and the rooms stank of perspiration. Van Diefendorf paced back and forth, the wildness apparent in every jerk and pause. He turned about, rubbing at his crotch, his tongue darting from his mouth like a wild animal.

  “I thought you left?” Doctor Helms said to Hook.

  “Frenchy didn’t think he could make it up the grade with the caboose.”

  “I see,” she said, taking up her chair. She crossed her legs, long and cylindrical, and the white of her thighs darkened under the folds of her dress.

  “I’ll be taking a bus out, first chance,” he said. “How’s Doctor Baldwin?”