by Jay, Karla M
Losing her would surely be the end of my time on Earth.
Someone calls out, and Willow’s face whitens. She signs, “I love you,” and I cross my arms over my heart in return.
Ilya starts to do the same, and I slap his hands down.
“We gotta go,” I say with a hiss.
Instead of turning back the way we come, we head through the rear yard along a fence and into the lawn of another huge house. Then we step into a street alongside the house.
“Ve going all way to Colorado?” He’s a mite flushed and twitchy nervous.
“As far as Willow goes. Then we can figure out the rest.”
The city is noisy and smells of oil, tar, and smoke. When did these folks get used to breathing this dirty air all day? We follow the cracked cement walk along a tree-lined street with rows of stores. Chimes jingle on an antiques’ store door as a woman enters. A happy sound.
But I ain’t happy, not one dang bit. How dare this Dobbs woman threaten Willow. My stomach feels twisted, and the sandwich is ’bout ready to come up.
“Right now,” I say, “we need to find a safe place to jump this passenger train. Gonna be harder than grabbing a freight. Less cars to hide in.” I lead us back to just shy of the railway station. The huge clock on that wall will let us know when we have to get a-running. Till then, we can stay in the trees and watch out for the railroad dicks or local police. “If we can’t grab an empty,” I say, “we’ll ride the blind.”
Ardith Dobbs
Everyone seems to be dragging their feet this morning. Why aren’t they excited for this trip? No hillbilly gal and Negro woman have ever been offered a chance to travel, especially in this kind of luxury. I bet even the Colored car is first-rate. For them.
William seems to have calmed down as I knew he would. He returned home this morning and kissed Karl’s head, gave me a pat on the back. Not very affectionate but it’s a start. In a few moments, he’ll drive us to the train station.
He’s more than shocked to see Josephine. Not sure why I thought I could keep her return a secret. I explain how she’s a new gal. She’s put the crazies behind her, and she’s sorry for her actions. I add that I’m taking her on the trip.
He can’t argue. I already bought her tickets.
But he must be flustered because after he studied Josephine for a good long while, he said, “It’s probably better this way.” He left the room to get the car keys.
Not sure what he meant by that but glad he didn’t argue about the nanny traveling along. I do hate that Josephine has her hair up in that head rag I detest so much. At least I won’t have to look at her or it on the train.
And Oliver. Cry me a river! He won’t stop bawling, even though William promised him all kinds of fun things they will do. The boy needs the soothing syrup, but William won’t let me get it. Just wait. He’ll be spooning that medicine into the boy after one day, I bet.
We’re ready to go, and I can’t find Willow. I call her and she comes scurrying around the side of her room. Can’t ask her where she was since I threw her notebook away, and I certainly don’t want to learn her hand flutters. How undignified! But why is she flushed and breathing fast? I need to keep her in sight.
Does she know I know she saw my papers? I think so. She’s acting skitterish around me. Nothing but trouble since she came. What was I thinking, taking in a criminal? But now Josephine’s home, and we can settle back into normal when the trip is over.
We all get into the car. Oliver clings to Josephine in the crowded back seat next to Willow. He’s down to whimpering now. She’s shushing him and telling him she’ll be back.
The trip takes only ten minutes, and William unloads our bags onto the train platform. He pulls me into a quick hug. More for show, it seems, than loving.
“I put a bit more cash in an envelope in your suitcase.” He’s wearing his serious look. “Shouldn’t need to open that until you’ve used the other money first.”
“You’re a dear.” I peck him on the cheek. “We will be back before you know it.”
“Take care of this little one.” He rubs his hand gently over Karl’s head and tears well in his eyes.
“I will. And you and Oliver have some fun.” William peels the child off Josephine’s leg, and I kiss the boy. “Bye, sweetie. Mommy will be back soon. I’ll bring you lots of new toys.”
“I don’t want toys!” He’s back to big-mouth crying.
“Sure you do.” I touch William’s arm. “You should go before everyone is staring at us.”
“That’s my plan.” His voice is strange, almost strangled. I guess he’s going to miss us more than he will admit.
He carries Oliver around the corner and out of sight.
Now it feels like an adventure.
We’ve switched trains in Chattanooga and then Memphis. Along the way, I enjoyed a lovely lunch in the dining car. Perfectly prepared beef stroganoff served on fine china. I love being treated like the queen I am. For the meal, a porter sat me with a couple from Savannah. He’s mad about motorcar racing and she’s an artist. They have two homes, one in Savannah and the other in the mountains outside Denver. I’ll have to talk to William about a second house, so we can enjoy the cooler summer days out west. What the couple described about their five-month stay in Colorado sounds divine. Not hot and sticky, that’s for sure.
I return to my seat, and Willow is holding the baby. We’re two stops from St. Louis and Willow’s exit. This next stop is Sulphur Springs, where the train takes on water. There, I’ll have Willow carry Karl to Josephine. She stepped out of the Colored car to feed him at earlier stops. When I asked what her accommodations are like, Josephine said they’re fine. There are only a few other riders, and they were all served cold meat sandwiches during lunch. How nice for them.
The trip has been relaxing and wonderful so far. Willow sits at the window, watching the scenery. Got to be a wonder to a child who’s never been out of Georgia before.
Wish I hadn’t been so angry with William when he suggested this getaway.
It’s just what I need.
I remember William said there was an envelope. Might as well see how much money he left me.
“Can you give me some privacy, Willow? Maybe walk the baby for a few minutes.”
She smiles, lifts Karl to her shoulder, and walks toward the front of the train. She’ll have four passenger cars to move through before she reaches a dead end at the baggage car and has to return.
I pull down my suitcase and open it on the seat. I retrieve the envelope and return my suitcase to the compartment. The packet doesn’t feel that thick. I tear it open and find only a folded letter around a fifty-dollar bill. The silly man has never written me a letter. How sweet.
I begin to read, and my heart drops to my stomach.
The words hardly make sense!
Ardith,
Oliver and I will not be here when you return. If you return. I suggest you start over with the baby someplace far away. The Klan wants to try me in front of the tribunal for your misdeeds. Dealing with the unscrupulous orphanage, stealing money from the women’s dues. I’ve been exiled from the brotherhood and I can’t bear the shame. Oliver could be taken away from me if I’m put in jail. I’ll be run out of business according to the Grand Dragon.
I learned some other things going through your desk. Our whole marriage is built on a lie. You are built on a lie, Sissy Belle Strunk.
I don’t like leaving Karl with you to raise but I have no choice.
Just like you once did, Oliver and I will recreate ourselves, and you won’t find us.
William
Willow is coming through the car door. I hurriedly stuff the letter between the seat cushions and look out the window, pretending I’m falling asleep. My mind whirls. How dare he! Our marriage vows bind us together through the good times and the bad. The man only sticks around during the good? Shame on him!
And he’s not going to help with my legal mess. War
ns me not to return. Where am I supposed to go?
I clasp my hands tight to keep them from shaking.
An idea begins to take hold. I have sisters in the Klan in St. Louis. Or in Indiana, where Miss Barr spends most of her time. They don’t know about my legal troubles.
Maybe I can start over there.
Willow Stewart
We’re on the Missouri Pacific No. 32. It’s beginning to slow for the next water stop in Sulphur Springs. The closer we get to St. Louis, the more my insides are slithering with a mess of baby snakes. That’s where she said I was gonna be left. I get to thinking that the state of Georgia owns me, not Miss Ardith. I plan to argue that when she tries anything funny.
Sulphur Springs will be the last stop before the twenty-six miles to the big city.
Miss Ardith knows I’m suspicious of her. Early in the trip, I accidentally brushed her arm, then jerked mine back and shook it, like I was flinging off a spider.
Since then I’ve curled myself close to a window, watching the world blur by.
At the stop, I’ll take Karl to his feeding with Miss Jojo. When we’re outside together, it’s the only time I’m not as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
It was so painful to say goodbye to Oliver, watching him cry so hard. I signed that I’ll see him soon. For both our sakes, I hope I didn’t just lie to him.
Miss Ardith asked me to walk Baby Karl up and down the train aisles. I don’t mind being away from her as much as possible. Once I return to our compartment, she’s acting like she’s fallen asleep. Her face is slack, and she suddenly looks older than I’ve ever seen.
She stands, covers her mouth, and hurries toward the toilet a car back. Maybe her dinner didn’t sit well.
Then, I spy a letter tucked between the seats.
I glance at her departing back, shift the baby to one arm, and reach for the note. Like a chicken, I need to keep the fox in sight at all times and know what he or she is doing.
Oh, my lands! I can’t believe what I’m reading. Mr. William found out about her evil past. I set the letter back where she left it.
What’s going to happen now? He’s running away, tells her not to come home. Will she change her mind about getting rid of me? Maybe she will need my help if she keeps traveling.
The train screeches to a stop, and she returns to our compartment, her eyes red.
I hold my face as even as I can and hope she doesn’t see my shock.
“You go on forward again, Willow.” Miss Ardith points to the baby. “Get him fed.”
Should take about fifteen minutes to fill the water tender from the spigot arm on the big tank it parks under. At least that’s the way it worked at the other stops.
Our passenger car is near the rear of the train, farthest away from the soot and smoke. Right now, it’s parked on a high bridge over a creek. I pass through the forward cars until I see solid ground under us. Then I step out and walk outside along the tracks. Miss Jojo is standing next to the train, waiting with a big smile.
“You doing okay back there with Miss Ardith?”
I nod. I want to tell her about the surprising news in Mr. William’s letter, but I have no paper and we have no time.
“Not tried to get you to stand in a doorway or anything?”
I laugh and hand her Karl. Before Miss Ardith took my notebook, I wrote a short note telling Miss Jojo about the woman’s secret past, and that I feared she may know I found out. Miss Jojo doesn’t trust the woman either, but she doesn’t think she will kill me, just maybe pass me off someplace.
“Your brother and the other kid, they riding with the hobos on the front of the baggage car. Briar say he’ll try to follow you into St. Louis if Miss Ardith tries to take you someplace.”
It gives me peace to know Briar is watching over me. Literally. I spotted him and the boy on the roof for the stretch from Chattanooga to Memphis.
I look back over the tail of the train, sitting out on the high bridge. Silvery under the afternoon sun. We just came through a windy path in the hills, and not far behind the last car is a blind curve. The river below is wide, throwing up white tips where it bounces over the rocks. The earnest blast of a train horn rips apart the muggy quiet. Many passengers standing outside turn their heads in the direction of the engine, wondering why it would be laying out a warning while parked. I recognize the sound as coming from behind us. A massive black engine barrels around the curve, leading onto the trestle at the rear of the train.
I push Miss Jojo and the baby to the ground, and we roll a good distance away from the tracks onto a short slope of cinders and stones. We both look at Karl. He’s fine. Even in the shock of the moment, Miss Jojo protected the baby’s head and back parts as any real mother would.
“We’re just fine, Willow. Thank you for the push.”
The conductor jumps off as well. A prayer is on my lips as I watch for the hobos and Briar to leave the blind.
The impact is worse than what I could ever have imagined, making a gust so powerful it pushes me over. The sound of metal screaming against metal booms through the valley and echoes back from the hills, like the roar of huge animals butchered alive. Like a jumpy slow-down dream, the cars closest to us flip on their sides, folks thrown through windows. The wooden walls of the cheaper cars shatter, sending spikes of wood every which way.
In hellfire unison, the ear-busting shriek of metal splintering and grinding drowns out the people screaming and crying. And then the eeriest moment arrives. All movement stops, and for a split hair, the only sound in the remote area is the hiss of escaping steam and compressed air. Then the screams start up again, and the train lets out a death rattle like none have lived to hear. Crying rises from every direction like a slow woeful chorus. More of the same is added as time ticks on.
The air carries ribbons of hot oil and the smells of fall butchering time. The engine that plowed into us from behind forced the rear passenger cars off the trestle and into the deep canyon below, then broke them off the front portion of the train. Miss Ardith’s car is gone. The big engine continued on, shrinking the dining and mail cars into one accordion-like hunk of metal.
The world is all jumpy. Survivors push and run in all directions. It’s hard to focus on one sight or another.
A few bleeding men begin to lay the dead side by side on the cinder banks. A voice hollers out that help is on the way.
Above the tortured moans and agonizing cries, a man shouts orders to get to the coaches below to free trapped passengers. The rescuers stumble over bodies on the way down the riverbank.
I tug on Miss Jojo’s sleeve and sign, hoping she understands but not truly caring if she doesn’t. “I want to check on the men riding the blind.” Hobos bum rides on the front of the baggage car because it has no through-passage to the other coaches, and the railroad detectives can’t find them.
Two hobos stagger along the tracks toward us. Miss Jojo asks about Briar and the other boy.
He shakes his head. “Those boys had no time to jump.” One held out his hand, blocking me from going forward. “Best you not see what’s left.”
I lose strength in my legs and fold to the ground.
All hope that anything would ever be good flees from my pained soul. Moments of our time growing up flash through my mind. The first wooden doll he carved for me. Making hammocks in the trees with Mama’s old sheets. The forest, fishing, running, signing. Fleeting images of a life suddenly gone, taking a huge part of me with him.
In this instant, I wish for death. Miss Ardith can kill me if she wants. It’ll be a heck of a sight easier than telling Poppy and my brother and sister that Briar isn’t ever coming home.
Some men help me stand, but the world is a blur. Someone mumbles we have to get to the hobo jungle nearby. They help me down the slope through the brush and weeds to the riverbank. Miss Jojo and the baby move in and out of my wavering eyesight. I’m glad they’re nearby.
At the river’s edge, the scene turns eeri
e. The metal passenger cars are piled on top of each other like giant silver bugs mating. I hear the heart-wrenching cries as men pull the frightened and injured passengers from the partially sunken coaches.
We move on.
Baby Luther is dead, Mama’s dead. Briar is dead. I’m not going back to Miss Ardith’s. I’ll figure out a way to get home. I need my kin. What’s left of them. Got to get away from so much hate and distrust.
The men don’t need to hold me up anymore. They’re leading the way single file along the riverbank, heading away from the wreckage.
An almost undetectable cry sounds close by. The hobos continue on ahead, but Miss Jojo stops.
“I think it’s a child, Willow.” There’s no way we can pass up helping a young one.
I follow her as she rushes to the water’s edge, picking my way over rocks and sinking into foot-sucking muddy holes.
Among the small rocks and twisted logs lies a woman, her white hands clutching a log. She’s crawled partially out of the river. Her body is clothed in a light-colored dress stretched into the shallow waters. Like a wavering ghost below the surface.
“Help me,” she croaks, her head turned to the side, lying against the log. “I beg you.”
It’s Miss Ardith! I walk to her. She has a deep cut across her forehead, and blood runs everywhere down her face and neck. Her right leg is twisted in the wrong direction below her wavering dress. I grab her by the armpits and tug her a little farther out of the water and turn her on her back.
The woman groans, her eyes still closed. “My baby.”
Miss Jojo comes closer and bends down. “I got Baby Karl. He’s okay.”
Miss Ardith’s face is going whiter than new sheets, and one eye wobbles around as she looks our way, but she recognizes us.
“You two! This is all your fault. I wouldn’t have had to leave. You’re sneaky. Always making my life hard.” She chokes on something. “If I go back…both of you…are going to jail.”