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Train to Anywhere

Page 28

by David George Howard


  ***

  As the months passed, Eddie again began to relax into his new life. Every morning he would join the thousands of other men going out to the canyon, but he was also one of a few. His job allowed him to have some status, since what he did took a particular skill. This had the additional advantage that he was out of sight for most of the day. He was just one of many nameless forms crawling along the rock face.

  It was with great surprise when, three months into the job, he came up for lunch and found Frank Crowe and Harris waiting for him. Mr. Crowe was often seen there and seemed to be in all places at once. Eddie was not aware of Harris coming to find him, and he began looking around for guards or police to haul him away.

  Mr. Crowe said, "He says he's a friend of yours." Then he walked over to where Eddie was unhooking his harness. "I don't like workers taking social calls. Remember, you don't get paid when you're talking." He walked away to attend to some other matter.

  "Eddie, let me first say I'm glad you're well, and no, I'm not here to arrest you," Harris said.

  He was still unsure and kept looking around for someone to carry him off. Seeing that they were being left alone and everyone else was working, Eddie relaxed and set his harness on the ground. "I've got it good here and don't want to mess things up. Did you tell them my real name?" he asked.

  "No," Harris said. "We need to talk privately." Harris led Eddie away from the other men milling around moving equipment and getting ready to descend. A blast went off, and Harris jumped at the sound. Eddie had been hearing this for so long now that he no longer noticed.

  There were a number of questions Eddie wanted to ask, and he was sure Harris would get to them. First, though, he was disappointed that he had been found. For all he knew, Mike was still after him and he would need to keep moving. "How did you find me?" he asked.

  "There were a few reports of people seeing you. The main one was something about a disturbance in Iowa. You were a few hours from being caught. Luckily, the cops there didn't put everything together in time. The Bureau of Reclamation here had you checked back to Hibbing, and the trail stopped."

  "How are Darrel and Willie?" Eddie said, remembering that night.

  "They're gone. The farm had to shut down, and they took off. Marsh went under with too much credit. Like half the country." Harris went on to explain how he had lost his position as district attorney. "But," he said, "I still have enough connections and could put out feelers. I knew you went north out of Iowa. It took some time and digging, but I searched around the Dakotas and Minnesota until I made the connection in Hibbing. From there, I found out you had a new name. People there knew you came down here. I made a call."

  "I thought I did a better job than that," Eddie said, sincerely hoping he had disappeared into society. "But why did you want to find me if you're not here to lock me up?"

  "Well," Harris said, looking off across the rocky landscape, "kind of an obsession, I imagine. I believed you were right, and it ruined my career. Well, ruined for the time being. I had to find you and let you know what happened. You were caught up in the middle of a crime war. I needed to let you know you can have your life back. How could I not find a man and let him know this?"

  Eddie had never thought of it in those terms, but he had to agree, looking back, Harris had staked his standing on Eddie being innocent. Running for the past year, going through what he had, had made him realize just how serious this turned out to be. In a very direct way, he owed his life to Harris, since most law enforcement would have locked him away. "I remember when McBride came in that night. It took about five minutes. Everything changed from there. What happened that I'm no longer wanted?"

  "O'Connor stepped in. McBride hurt O'Connor's grandson irreparably, and that was the beginning of the war. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but he had McBride killed. He also produced the man who killed Gloria. He was convicted last month. McBride's gone; his organization fell apart. Murders, bodies began showing up in broad daylight. Evidence for Gloria's and LaRue's killings fell onto the new D.A.'s doorstep. O'Connor made the D.A., Wendell McGuffy, a hero. O'Connor has his city back for now and most likely controls the government," Harris said, crossing his arms.

  Eddie thought about what had happened in the past year or so. This complete story, with this new ending, made him realize that his small part had been the one thing that tipped off the conflicts that followed. "I did that, didn't I? O'Connor wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't seen McBride take out LaRue."

  "Yes and no. It was going to happen sooner or later," Harris said in his straight, honest way.

  Eddie would have to think about that, but two rival factions trying to get the same territory were bound to clash. "That's not easy for you, is it?" A year before, he would not have been bold enough to say this to Harris.

  "No, it's not. It doesn't fix a thing. O'Connor may not be as brutal as McBride, but it's still the wrong side of the law running things," Harris said, taking a deep breath. "Either way, after all this happened, the charges against you were dropped. They found the bank robber, a man named Nelson Carlson, with bullet in his head."

  "Did Mike kill McBride also?" Eddie asked. He had had a few dreams of Mike stalking him through the night.

  "Mike? I remember him, but I don't know. It was a hit. One precise shot."

  "Mike killed Nelson. He tried to kill me too," Eddie exclaimed.

  "You're sure about that?" Harris said. "It's worth a look. Thanks for telling me."

  "He's an extremely dangerous man." Eddie knew he had just given Harris an important piece of information, and that might have been his real reason for tracking Eddie down. Eddie felt the instinct creep in again, and he changed the subject. "What about those robberies? Am I really off the hook on those?"

  "It all fell apart. You were taken by force and committed them under duress." Harris stepped closer.

  Eddie had often wondered how different actions would have changed the outcome. "What would have happened if I had stayed and stood trial?"

  "You wouldn't have had a chance. Too much against you. Running was the best thing you could've done." He laughed. This time, Eddie heard the strained, nasally sound, and he knew this was not humor.

  "To be honest, I like it here. The works hard, and the pay isn't much, but I like being Stu Atkins."

  "You can have your old life back," Harris said, "although your belongings are probably gone."

  "No. No, thank you," Eddie said.

  "Stay in contact with me," Harris said, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and writing down a phone number.

  Eddie tucked the note away, not sure if he would keep it. There was not even a temptation to return, but he never knew what could happen. For the first time since they had met, Harris shook Eddie's hand. He walked away and caught a ride on a truck going back to Boulder City, leaving Eddie to watch him disappear out of his life. Eddie put his harness back on and went over to the canyon wall, hooked onto the lines, and rappelled down to the area they were working. The rock face was a few feet before him, solid under his shoes. Other than that, it was hundreds of feet down and miles to either side. That was exactly where he wanted to be. He set his charges and went back up top. The explosion was set off. Eddie listened to the sound echo up and down the canyon until it faded away completely.

  ####

  About the Author

  David George Howard's writing background is a little unusual, but not unheard of. He graduated from the University of Michigan with a B.S. in Mechanical Engineering, after which his career path took him to the U.S. Navy and Raytheon, working on bomb racks and missile launchers for F-18s. From there, he went on to work for Rolls-Royce on the Osprey V-22 engine. After a couple of decades in the aerospace field, he finally acknowledged his love of stories and writing by returning to school to learn the craft. In 2010 he received an M.A. in English from Indiana University-Purdue University India
napolis, writing his thesis on redemption and personal relationships in hard-boiled detective fiction.

  February 10, 2014

  Contact information

  artfulscribbler@yahoo.com

  artfulscribbler.wordpress.com

 


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