The Great Plains (29 page)

‘We both know that he would do anything to protect Mark and what benefit is there to them being forced to run because of me? We can't take any chances. Come on, let's wake them up.'

As Abelena roused the irritable twins, Jerome stamped out the fire.

‘Where's Uncle George?' Mathew asked.

‘He was shot by the men that followed us. I buried him,' Jerome said bluntly. ‘We're leaving, so let's go.'

Mathew digested the news with little emotion and then, taking his brother by the arm, led him to the horses.

‘I'll miss him,' Jerome told his sister. ‘He was like a father to us.'

Abelena bit her lip. ‘The way of the Apache was not for me, Jerome, nor is it the way of the future.'

Once mounted, Jerome placed Tess in front of her older sister. ‘That doesn't mean we can't grieve for him.'

May, 1935 – Pawnee County, Oklahoma

The steel track was cold against Jerome's ear. He could hear no sound, detect no vibration although the shiny metal showed that the railway line was still in use. After so many days on the run, he both hoped for and feared human contact yet they could not keep living this way. He shielded his eyes against the glare of the sun. Ahead a water tower beckoned. Prairie land and tilled fields extended outwards punctuated by lines of timber and, in the distance, rolling hills that dipped and rose.

Mark squatted in the dirt, poking at a lump of dark rock lying near the railway line. Picking it up, he noticed the black smear that stained his skin and proceeded to rub the blackness against his hands and face.

‘Coal,' Jerome told the boy, pointing at the lump in the kid's hands. ‘Dirty.' He took the rock from Mark and threw it away. The boy began to howl.

‘What did you do that for?' Mathew slid from his horse and handed his brother his last piece of jerky. Mark snatched at the dried meat and then gave his brother a crooked smile before holding up the food for Abelena's inspection.

Jerome turned back towards the water tower. Their journey had been kinder over the past few days. The grasses sprouted green shoots and they'd meandered across gently rolling country, disturbing wild animals as they went. Flycatchers darted overhead, the weather was mild, they'd caught quail to roast and even managed to spear some fish. Combined with the berries they'd picked, their hunger had been satisfied. It was not a difficult task to fill the children's stomachs, Jerome discovered. When at long last there was ample food, their bellies appeared to have shrunk. Campfires remained unsafe; however, they cooked at night and put the fire out quickly.

Abelena tugged on the reins to steady Ernst. Untying the blanket ends from across her chest, she manoeuvred Tess until the child sat on her lap. The little girl leant forward listlessly and rested on the gelding's neck.

Jerome waved at the child. How he wished he could scratch out a few lines of explanation to mail to Mr Blum in an effort to scatter the evil that had followed them for so long. He knew he had to leave his family, run far away so that they could be free. It was the only way to protect them, especially now that two more men lay dead because of his actions.

‘What are you thinking, Jerome?' Abelena interrupted his thoughts.

He pointed at the water tower. ‘If a train stops we should get on it. Maybe travel for a few days and then hop off to find food.'

Abelena caressed Tess's head. ‘But we've hardly got anything to take with us, Jerome. A handful of berries and water, that's all. I don't want Tess to start starving again.'

‘What about me and Mark?' Mathew reminded them.

‘No-one will starve,' Jerome placated, although they all looked at him with disbelief. ‘It'll be safer if we keep moving for just a little longer.'

His sister scowled. ‘So we wait near the water tower?'

‘Yes.' He tried not to sound impatient.

The horses padded quietly across the ground as they made their way to the tower. It was a fine morning for riding and Jerome found himself thinking about his uncle and the words he'd spoken just before his death. He wondered if his uncle had told the truth about his ancestry, for although the man had no reason to lie, Jerome felt unworthy of such a connection. Yet at the same time he pondered on whether Geronimo would be proud of him. The old Apaches had measured their worth by the number of horses they stole and, regardless of inclination, Jerome had managed three so far. It was a pity they would have to leave the animals behind.

They tied the horses to nearby trees and, settling Tess on a blanket to rest, began to scavenge the area for food. Jerome didn't want to risk a cooking fire for they would be riding the train illegally although he had the bounty hunter's money should they be caught. Their foraging yielded nuts as well as some edible roots and bulbs. By the time night darkened the countryside they had eaten and settled on their blankets to gaze at the stars.

The glow of pre-dawn came too quickly.

‘Will a train come soon?'

‘I don't know,' Jerome admitted to his sister, as the last remnants of the night began to disappear. ‘At least we have water here.' If all went to plan they would continue to travel towards the rising sun, towards a new life as the old slowly dwindled to nothingness. ‘In the beginning, nothing existed,' Jerome began, ‘no earth, no sky, no sun, no moon, only darkness was everywhere.'

‘You'll wake the children,' Abelena complained. Mathew stirred and yawned. ‘See.'

‘It's only Injun stuff,' Mathew told her.

Jerome touched the leather strands of the izze-kloth around his neck. ‘The creator of all things was a small bearded man, the One Who Lives Above.'

‘Stop talking rubbish, Jerome. It's bad enough Uncle filled your head with his nonsense, but I don't want the children listening to it.'

Jerome ignored his sister. ‘When he looked into the endless darkness, light appeared above. He looked down and it became a sea of light. To the east he created yellow streaks of dawn. To the west there were many colours and clouds filled with colour.'

‘Did the man make everything?' Mark asked, crawling to Jerome's side. The boy rarely spoke full sentences.

‘Yes. He made the Sun God and the wind, the Lightning Maker and Mother Earth.'

Mark touched Jerome's shoulder. ‘If earth has a mother, where's mine?'

Jerome searched for the right words.

‘She's dead, Mark, I've told you that.' Mathew sat up, wrapping skinny arms around his knees.

A distant rumble sounded. ‘Fold the blankets and get ready,' Jerome told them, rolling the history of his people into a flat cylinder he shoved it down his shirt-front. He ran toward the railroad tracks, jumping over fallen timber and skirting shrubby bushes. In the distance pinpricks of light appeared in the west. Placing his ear against the tracks, the vibration was immediately obvious. ‘It's here!' he yelled, racing back to their camp. He helped Abelena remove the bridles from the horses and unsaddled Ernst. ‘Goodbye, friend.' He rubbed the animal's nose and then slapped the horse's rump. ‘Off you go, boy.' The horse walked a few paces and turned to watch them as they ran towards the water tower.

‘Keep running.' Jerome led his family along the track until they were a good few hundred feet away from the tower. They squatted in a huddle near the railway lines.

‘What if it doesn't stop?' Mathew asked. He had an arm around his brother's shoulders lest he wander.

‘It'll stop,' Jerome replied, glancing at Abelena.

‘Maybe we shouldn't have turned the horses away.' She looked anxious.

‘We should have stuck one for meat,' Mathew told them, ‘had ourselves a decent feed.'

The rumble of the approaching train grew louder. The shiny black locomotive charged by in a haze of steam and dust as the sky grew lighter. Wooden freight cars flashed past, rattling loudly.

‘It's not going to stop,' Abelena yelled as they turned their faces away from the flying grit and rushing wind.

‘Look.' Mathew pointed to the tops of the carriages. There were men riding the train, their legs dangling over the sides. Gradually the train slowed. The creak of metal followed a whoosh of steam.

‘It's a freight train,' Jerome told them, ‘come on.' He fell in step with the slowing train and called up to the men above. ‘We want to get on!'

‘It'll stop,' came the response.

True to the man's word, the train did slow to a complete stop. Soon the air was filled with the noise of people clambering off the railway carriages. Men formed groups, cigarettes were lit. People bustled around them. Jerome listened to the voices in the early morning and drew his family closer as the sound of men relieving themselves only feet away mixed with the idling engine of the locomotive. The stink of unwashed bodies, of tobacco and urine was strong as a crowd of people walked towards the water tower to fill containers.

‘You gotta ride on the roof.' The man standing in front of Jerome looked tired and wind-blown. He wore a pair of round spectacles, the frame of which appeared to be held together with twine. ‘These three cars here,' he gestured, ‘them others are open-topped piled high with coal.'

‘How much?' Jerome asked.

‘I ain't no official.' He perched the cap he wore on the back of his head and pushed the spectacles higher up onto the bridge of his nose. ‘I'm just hitching a ride like everybody else; this way.'

‘Where are you all heading to?' Jerome took Tess from his sister's arms and shepherded everyone forward to where the man waited near the end of a freight car. There were metal railings forming a ladder at one end and men were already walking past on their way back to take their seats up on top.

‘Anywhere a man can get work. Near everyone I hear tell has gone or is going west to California, but some of us reckon the east might have more to offer,' he grinned. ‘That's what my cousin Arnold reckons. He's already been out to California, couldn't get a single job picking fruit, spent the year living in makeshift camps called Hoovervilles. Yessum, it seems every town's got a Hooverville. Well, he wrote me and said not to come. So I says to myself, Charlie, it's time to make your own luck, so I turned east and started walking and before I knew it I wasn't alone.'

‘And they let us ride for free on the trains?' Jerome asked.

‘Well it ain't like it's first-class travel. They tell me it's different in the big cities. The conductors are onto us train-hoppers in them big towns, so a man's gotta watch himself. Yessum, a man's gotta be on his guard but out here, well, if a man behaves himself and goes about his business quietly, the conductors turn a blind eye. What are they going to do with us all anyway? Pick a fight?'

Jerome realised the man had a point.

‘You better get your wife and family up there and hang on. You look like you've travelled some already.'

‘Come on.' Jerome steered his sister towards the ladder and, following the man's advice, they scrambled onto the top of the car to sit in the middle of the roof. Men walked past and spread out along the length of the flat-topped freight car. Jerome made out gaunt faces and wary eyes. There were few women that he could see and if there were children they were not in view. Some of the men were roughish types and interested glances suggested Abelena would be considered a prize. Others were friendlier, welcoming them as if they were toffs sharing a first-class cabin.

‘Keep them children of yours away from the sides, mister. These tracks ain't what they used to be.'

‘You'll be fine, mister, just hang on and if you need to get some shut-eye, it's best if you do it in the daylight.'

‘Yeah, two fellas fell off last night. Had a fight they did and when they shook hands at the end of it and agreed to disagree the driver slammed on the brakes to miss something on the tracks and, whoosh, over they went.'

Abelena pulled Tess closer.

‘You got a nice family there, real nice,' Charlie commented. ‘You'd be Mexican?' He sat next to Abelena.

The train shuddered, jolting them roughly as it slowly picked up speed. Mark gave a hoot of excitement.

‘You sit still,' Jerome cautioned, pulling Mark closer as Mathew steadied his brother with a firm grip. ‘Yes, Mexican,' Jerome replied.

‘Thought I'd check, I can't always tell between you lot and an Injun. Don't go too much on Injuns. So where you headed then?' Charlie asked. ‘Me, I'm going all the way to New York City, yessum.'

The wind whipped at their faces. ‘Not sure,' Jerome revealed. ‘Do you reckon there's work in New York?'

‘Well if there ain't, there'll be soup kitchens.'

‘What are those?' Mathew had his arm linked through his brother's.

Charlie stared at the younger of the two twins. Mark's droopy eye was red-rimmed and weeping. ‘Where they feed people, 'cause of the depression.' He finally drew his gaze from the younger of the twins. ‘They your kin?'

‘Cousins,' Abelena answered. ‘They lost their parents so we took them in.'

Charlie nodded. ‘Where are you folk from anyway?'

‘Kansas,' Jerome lied. ‘We were sharecroppers but the drought near cleaned us out.'

Charlie lifted a leg and plucked a splinter free of his trousers. ‘You're telling me. Our place was near Boise City in Oklahoma. You would have heard of the place.'

‘Sure thing.' Jerome sensed Abelena's nervousness.

‘The missus went to live with her parents after we lost our farm, sent me out to find work. Like it was my fault the country went bust and then it stopped raining.'

‘Is it far to New York?' Abelena asked.

‘Far enough,' Charlie explained, ‘a couple of freight trains I'm told and then a passenger train, although the likes of us still have to ride on top unless you got money?'

The question hung, Jerome laughed. ‘Yeah, like I'd be making my family ride the roof if we had money.'

Charlie lit a cigarette by ducking his head between his knees and cupping a hand around the match. ‘Well, it's just that you asked me how much to ride on the roof, so I figured –'

‘I've got a sick child and a few coins saved for food.'

Charlie lifted his hands in surrender. ‘I ain't looking for no argument.' The cigarette travelled across his bottom lip, the smoke dissipating into the wind. He leant forward. ‘Most of these men got real empty pockets.'

Their conversation was interrupted by a shout. All along one side of the locomotive a string of men were elbowing each other and pointing. Mathew and Mark knelt on the carriage roof, trying to see past the bobbing heads in front of them.

Charlie swivelled on his backside. ‘Well, I'll be.'