Chapter 1

It was almost too easy. I mean, every time that nitwit deputy got up to go to the shitter, he took the key out of his vest pocket to unlock his end of the handcuffs and shackle me to the arm rest. He must not of had no idea why I was on my way to reform school, that I'd been nabbed fer pickin' pockets.

I'd been workin' over a plan in my head ever since the train left Charleston and now I was ready. When he stood up to edge by me, I stuck out my foot and made him stumble then I pushed out my hands like I was tryin' to keep him from fallin' on me and slipped two fingers into his vest pocket to snag the key. He slapped me on the top of my head and growled, "Watch your feet, you little shit!"

"Stick it up your butt, flatfoot!"

Of course, that got me another smack but I didn't care 'cause I had what I wanted. There was maybe ten or twelve other people in the train car and they was doin' what people always do when kids like me get knocked around; lookin' the other way.

The shitter was two cars back in the caboose so I waited 'til the deputy stepped through the door. I knew he'd be a while 'cause every time he come back to his seat, he stank of rotgut whiskey. I figured the porter or the conductor probably had a jug back there and they was sellin' shots. Prohibition didn't mean shit. The only thing it ever changed was who you hadda pay fer your hooch. I always thought the joke was on the do-gooders who passed the law, 'cause as long as nobody was sellin' legal whiskey they couldn't collect no taxes on it.

My plan was easy enough. As soon as he was out of sight, I unlocked the cuffs and moseyed down the aisle in the same direction. I figured anybody who even took notice of me would think I was on my way to the same place the deputy was. I closed the door behind me and shinnied up the ladder rungs to the roof of the car and lay flat waitin' fer the right chance to come along. We was chuggin' through the Appalachians, and I knew sooner or later the train would have to slow way down to pull a hill or get around a sharp curve in the tracks. That'd be my chance to make my getaway.

The deputy musta' been gettin' a real snootful 'cause I'll bet we went six or eight miles and he was still in there. The train whistle blew and when I raised up my head to look, I saw we was about to go through a tunnel. That meant I'd be eatin' smoke, and I sure as hell didn't want any of that. Some of them tunnels was awful long and I couldn't swear I'd be able to hold my breath all the way through.

We was only goin' maybe fifteen mile an hour so I figured this was gonna be my only chance. Hopin' to hell the deputy wouldn't pick that exact minute to stumble back to his seat, I climbed down to the bottom rung and leaned way out to look fer the softest spot to land. Just a little ways up, there was a steep place droppin' down from the tracks that looked thick with weeds. Just before we got there, I jumped, tryin' to land on my feet and roll down the hill.

It worked – mostly. I tumbled down the hill faster'n I wanted to and cracked my head on a tree stump. Lordy, lordy did I see stars! When I come to, I lay there a minute thinkin' I'd near killed myself 'cause it got all dark. After a bit, I started seein' colors again and smellin' smoke from the train. I musta' only been out fer a few seconds 'cause when I could see again, the last car was just disappearin' into the tunnel.

I was pretty sure there wasn't nobody gonna come lookin' fer me any time soon but that wasn't no excuse to lay there and wait for 'em. I wiped the side of my head and saw I was bleedin' some but not much. I felt a little shakey on my pins when I stood up but I headed on into the woods to get as far from the tracks as I could. I skint my knee too and my shoulder hurt but, all in all, I think I did a good job of gettin' away. It ain't like I was wanted fer murder or nothin', so I didn't expect they was gonna bust their asses to find me. They'd probably just figure 'good riddance' and be happy they didn't have to feed me on the taxpayer's dollar. I had to grin when I thought about what kinda story the deputy was gonna make up to tell the sheriff. It's fer sure he was in fer a big ass-chewin'.

A couple hours of walkin' got me to thinkin' about food, so I started lookin' fer mushrooms and blackberry bushes. It was early July so I knew the blackberries and wineberries'd be ripe and that there'd be plenty of 'em. Down at the bottom of a long hill, I found a nice little crick where I drank my fill and washed the blood out of my hair. Blackberry bushes was thick along the bank so I stuffed myself knowin' it might give me the runs but that was better than starvin'.

I knew that if I followed the crick far enough, I'd come across a house or a road or somethin'. I didn't have no idea where I was headed, but I didn't much give a damn so long as it wasn't anywhere close to Charleston where I just come from. The train was headed fer Huntington and, judgin' by how long we was travelin', I guessed we must be near there, probably not too far from Ohio, anyhow. Ohio would get me out of the state and I could rest a little easier. I reckoned as long as I was already goin' west, maybe I'd just keep on that direction to somewhere like Wyoming or Montana. Maybe I could be a cowboy and work on a ranch. I seen Tom Mix in a couple of movin' pictures and that looked like the life fer me.

The sun was gettin' ready to drop over the hill and it was lookin' like I was gonna have to rough it fer at least one night but then I just walked right out of the woods and into a pasture that had one cow, one broken-down ol' nag and a goat grazin' in it. I crouched down inside the trees and watched the house no more'n fifty yards away. That goat come over to check me out and I hadda throw sticks at her to shoo her away.

There was a beat-up ol' Ford pickup truck parked by a hay shed, and a few scraggly-lookin' chickens in the yard. but I didn't see no people. I planned to wait 'til the sun went down and spend the night in that shed. At least it'd be dry. It had a habit of cloudin' up and rainin' in the middle of the night in that part of the country.

Just before it got dark, a little girl who looked to be about seven or eight years old come out the door with a pan and started throwin' scraps to the chickens. I was hopin' to knock one of them chickens in the head with a stick and take it with me fer a good dinner when I moved on. Then a little boy of maybe five or six come runnin' out and jumped off the porch and started chasin' the chickens around.

"Mama," the little girl hollered, "make Charlie stop!"

A woman stepped out the door and yelled, "Charlie, you git yer little butt in here and finish yer supper 'fore I take a switch to ya!"

He musta' figured she meant business 'cause he scampered right on into the house. The little girl finished feedin' the chickens and followed.

I kept on watchin' 'til it got dark but I never saw their daddy. From the flickerin' light in the window, I guessed the place was lit with candles or a lantern. There wasn't no electric lines around any place that I could see, so I guessed I must be a ways from any towns. I made my way to the shed and buried myself in a pile of hay. I was plum wore out and my shoulder still hurt some but, even with the aches n' scrapes, it didn't take me long to fall asleep.

I guess I musta' been sleepin' mighty hard 'cause when I woke up it was daylight and there was a crowd lookin' down at me. The little boy and girl stood there on one side gawkin' at me like I was some kind of critter they hadn't ever seen before and their mama was standin' on the other side of me with a 20-gauge shotgun pointed at my private parts. The look on her face tole me she wasn't about to put up with no foolishness, neither.

She poked the business end of the shotgun in my crotch and asked, "Who are ya, boy, n' what you doin' sleepin' in my shed 'thout askin' my leave?"

I hadda pee real bad anyways and lookin' at the barrel of that shotgun pointed at me dang near made me wet myself. "Uh, I'm sorry, Ma'am. I was just awful wore out last night and I didn't wanna bother ya none. I'll just be on my way now."

I started to get up and she says, "Stay put 'til I say ya kin go! Ya didn't say who ya was."

"Willem, Ma'am. Willem Jordan's my name.

"So what you doin' out bummin' around the countryside, Willem Jordan? You cain't be more'n fourteen, fifteen year old."

"I'm eighteen, Ma'am."

She poked the barrel into my crotch and says, "Like hell you are!"

"OK! OK! I'm almost sixteen and that's the honest truth! Well, um, I was on my way to Huntington to live with my aunt and I musta' got lost."

I knew it was a pitiful weak story but it's all I could come up with off the top of my head and my heart 'bout jumped clean out of my chest when she cocked the hammer back on that shotgun and says, "Don't lie to me, boy! You either a runaway from home or the law. I don't much care but I won't abide bein' lied to."

I didn't dare try another fib, not even a little bitty one. "Well, Ma'am, you're right. I jumped off a train yesterday to get away from a deputy that was takin' me to the reform school."

She nodded her head and looked satisfied with my answer. "That sounds more like the truth. Well I ain't got no truck with the law 'cause most of 'em ain't no better'n the crooks they chase after. What was you arrested fer?"

"Stealin', Ma'am."

"Hard times like these, near everbody has t' steal stuff just to keep body n' soul together. What'd ya take?"

"It was some man's wallet, Ma'am. It only had two dollars in it though."

"Uh huh. Ya know, ever since this dang depression hit us, they's hobos n' bums wanderin' through the countryside stealin' anythang they can git their paws on. You one o' them?"

"No, Ma'am! I wouldn't steal from ya, honest! I just stopped here to rest on my way out west. Maybe if you could spare a crust of bread, I'd be thankful and be on my way." It was a sure bet I wasn't gonna be takin' one of them chickens with me.

She cocked her head to one side and looked me up and down like she was measurin' me fer a coffin, then she said, "Ya look awful skinny t' me, boy. When's the last time ya et somethin'?"

"I found some blackberries yesterday afternoon but they went right through me."

"Yeah, they'll do that if ya eat a lot of 'em. Well, come on up to the house then n' we'll get somethin' inside of ya that'll stick t' yer ribs."

I started to stand up again and she added, "Now don't ya be thinkin' 'bout doin' somethin' foolish. I might not shoot ya but I reckon I could whup ya with or without the shotgun."

I didn't doubt it fer a minute. She was at least two inches taller than me and I'd wager she was a good thirty pounds heavier too. And like she said, I was kinda scrawny.

I got to my feet, still needin' to pee real bad. "Ma'am, I got to pass water somethin' awful! Do you s'pose I could I use your outhouse?"

She cracked a halfway pretty smile and says, "If ya just gotta pee, then step 'round behind the shed."

On the way back toward the house, she said, "My name's Cassie Wharton n' my kids is Sue Ellen n' Charlie. Ain't no need o' callin' me Ma'am 'cause I ain't all that much older'n you. Cassie does just fine."

"Yes, Ma'am. Er, I mean Cassie."

She sat me down in the kitchen and filled me up on biscuits and gravy and two fried eggs. The kids kept me busy answerin' non-stop questions 'til their mama told 'em to leave me be and get started on their chores. There wasn't no lip or complainin' neither. I was thinkin' their mama ruled the house with a limber switch.

Well I was so dang hungry I didn't leave enough on my plate fer a fly to lick up. As she collected it, she said, "Ya owe me a job o' work now. What kinda thangs ya good at?"

"Oh, uh, well, I guess whatever you need doin', Ma'am - I mean Cassie." I wasn't a stranger to hard work and it seemed only fair to pay fer my food before movin' on.

"To start with, I need ya to milk that cow and that goat out in the pasture. Can ya do that?"

"I don't know, Ma'am. I never tried. I'm from Charleston so I ain't had all that much to do with farm work."

Her shoulders kinda slumped when I said that and she says, "Ain't it just my luck t' find a city kid! Well then, take that hoe from beside the back door and start weedin' that garden out yonder. It don't take no schoolin' to do that. I'll just do the milkin' myself."

I was wonderin' who did the real heavy work around the place. "Yes, Ma'am, uh, Cassie. Um, I know it ain't my business but is Mr. Wharton around somewhere?"

She eyed me with a kinda odd look and said, "Yer right, it ain't yer business but I'll tell ya anyways. If they's any justice on God's green earth, his evil soul is burnin' in hell. His bones is pushin' up daisies out behind the shed where ya peed. Now you best git to yer work 'cause they's lots to do."

Chapter 2 »