The old-timer stopped a few pace shy of Noah’s throbbing foot and lifted the object up to his lips. After a quick swig from his bottle, he took a seat on the floor next to Noah.
“Ah!” He wiped his mouth on a tattered flannel sleeve. “That’s the stuff. The name’s Artie.”
Noah shook his spotted hand. “November, but everybody calls me Noah.”
The foreigner dropped Noah’s sack next to him and pulled up a seat. “I am Rene. Rene Chollande.”
“Rennie?” Noah raised a bewildered brow.
“Close enough,” Rennie said.
“Good to meet you.” Noah shook his slender hand. “Thanks for the lift back there.”
“No problem.” Rennie placed his hands on his crossed legs. “There are a few things that you must know if you are ever going to survive out ‘ere.”
Rennie’s thick accent spun circles of misunderstanding in Noah’s mind. “Where are you from?”
“I am from France,” Rennie said. “I stowed away on a ship last year and landed in New York.”
“Now, you’re on a train?”
“Oui,” Rennie said with a nod.
Must mean, yes.
“After I could find no work in the city, I joined some friends and hopped on my first train.” The youthful Frenchman shrugged. “I never looked back. And you?”
Noah eased his sore left leg out in front of him. “I grew up on a farm not too far from here. My folks fell on some hard times. I’m just tryin’ to help ‘em out.”
“Lots of youngsters ridin’ out here just like you.” Artie knocked back another dose of his tonic.
Noah stretched out a leg. “Where’s this thing goin’?”
“This one’s makin’ stops in Parkersburg and Columbus, Ohio,” Artie said. “From there, you can jump a rail toward Indianapolis or Cleveland.”
Noah ran a hand through the red curls on his crown. “I suppose I’ll be headin’ to Indianapolis then.”
Rennie’s head bobbed wearing a grin. “Good choice. Lots of work up toward Chicago. I’ll be riding out that direction, too.”
“What kind of work?” Another undulating field drifted past Noah’s eyes.
“All kinds.” Rennie scooted closer. “You can find work in some of the factories, traveling carnivals, and some kids just shine shoes right there on the streets.”
Noah studied both of his newfound companions closely with his blue gaze. “Either of you been as far as California?”
Artie leaned his head against the wall and chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve been there.” His chest deflated in relief. “Lots of good work and women out west. ‘Zat where you’re goin’?”
Noah shrugged.
“If you’re goin’ west,” Artie rested his hands under his head, “you might as well go all the way, I say.”
Rennie leaned in against the boxcar’s wall next to Noah. “If you are going to survive very long out here, then you’ll need to know a few things right away.”
He detected a somber tone in the Frenchman’s voice. “Such as?”
“First and foremost,” Rennie stared off into the passing corn fields, “you never ride a train all the way into the station.”
“Yup,” Artie said with a sniff. “The bulls will get ya for sure.”
Noah’s face mashed in puzzlement.
“The railway inspectors,” Rennie said. “In the bigger towns and cities, they walk the yards looking for us.”
“Mmm hmm,” Artie said, “and if they snag ya, you’ll wind up behind bars, if not worse.”
“How do you guys know where to get off?”
Artie jabbed a bent finger out into the growing twilight. “There’ll be signposts along the tracks pointin’ the way. Folks that have gone before you will mark a good place to stop for food or sleep with a rag of some sort tied in the trees.”
“That’s right,” Rennie said. “Farms are the best places to go. You can usually find some work that will at least earn you food and a barn to sleep in for the night.” He lifted his open hands over his legs. “Other times, they will even pay you some money if you work hard.”
“What if there aren’t any signposts before your station?”
“You just jump out and hope for the best,” Rennie said.
“Some places have jungles.” Artie gulped down another swig. “Hobo camps not too far from the stations where a person can wash up and sleep in peace.”
Noah’s torso fell back into the cold planks. Why couldn’t I have just stayed home?
“It’s a tough way of life out here on the rails,” Artie cleared his lungs, “but I wouldn’t live any other way in this world.”
Rennie tapped Noah’s shoe with his left boot. “Another thing, don’t ever get into the first or the last car on the line. The bulls start on either end first.”
“Thanks.” Noah settled his head back on a small hummock of straw. “What do we do if we stop in Parkersburg? Jump?”
Rennie nodded. “Then we’ll wait for her to pull out of the station on the other side and jump her again.”
“This line usually doesn’t make stops in the smaller towns,” Artie said. “This one won’t stop until she reaches Columbus.”
Rennie slid down beside him. “Go on and catch a nap. We probably have another three hours until we get close to the station.”
Artie gruffed and slid his flask into a coat pocket. Minutes later, the old coot snored so loud it could be heard over the rattling of the car.
Guess a little rest won’t hurt anything. Noah let his eyes wander among the drifting treetops as they whipped past the open doors. The rock of the car lulled his eyelids shut. Images of home disturbed his want for sleep. Just force the tears down. Nobody wants a crybaby around.
Noah rolled over turning his back to Rennie. Memories of April and Max shrinking into the distance on that porch wrenched a few drops from either eye. He huddled his extremities in close to his body and wiped away any evidence of weakness. I’ve gotta do it for them.
Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack.
Soon the emotional vice surrounding Noah’s mind relinquished its grip, and the teen slipped into the railroad’s trance.
A blunt object jabbed into Noah’s right shoulder jostling him from his slumber. “Go away, Mort. I’m tired.”
“Get up, Noah. We’re nearing the jump point.”
Morty never had an accent before.
“Come on!” Rennie shoved him even harder. “Last chance, mon ami.”
“Rennie? What are you going on about?”
Rennie’s shoes clopped across the interior of the train car. The rusty door squelched open sending a blast of cool summer wind into Noah’s hair. I’ve gotta get off of this train! He sprung to his feet and snatched his small sack in his left hand.
Rennie stood in the doorway of the car with his newsboy on backward. “We’re about five miles away from the station.” His head moved with each passing post on the railway. “We have to jump.”
Noah strode over beside his companion and looked out across the passing farmland. “That’s a long way to jump to reach the grass, Rennie.”
“And we have to time it just right, or one of those poles will cut us in two.”
Another signal post whipped by Noah’s nose causing him to stutter back a few paces. He looked over his shoulder to Artie. “You comin’?”
The old-timer shook his mangy head. “Nah. I’m getting to old to be flyin’ from moving trains.” He gestured toward the crates along the far wall. “I’ll just do what I normally do and stow away in one of them.”
Noah’s eyes widened in concern.
“Mah!” Artie huffed. “Don’t go fussin’ over me, boy. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve spent a few nights in jail, in the worst case.” He knocked back a mouthful of his tonic. “You just worry about survivin’ the jump.”
The brakes engaged the locomotive’s wheels slowing the line of cars down as they turned to the left.
“We’re getting close to the station now.” Rennie crouched down. “A little bit more and it will be safe to go.”
Noah knelt on his side of the doorway with his bag in a death grip. He gauged the distance over the ties and rock bed to be close to six feet away. This is gonna be a rough landing.
Rennie looked like a cat ready to pounce. “Get ready, Noah!”
He mimicked his instructor and readied for a leap into the void. Rennie’s head moved with each passing pole. Noah followed suit estimating his opening for launch.
“Now!” Rennie disappeared in a flannel blur into the night.
“Here goes nothin’.” The train’s whistle blared just as Noah jumped from the car startling him out of his element.
Ah, hell! A flashing red light raced at his knees as his body sailed parallel to the gravel and iron below.