Transcontinental (9 page)

“I can not.” The silliness faded from Ant’s face, giving way to rock-hard resignation, his eyebrows arched. He focused his solemn gaze on Leroy.

“This is our ride,” Ant yelled. “Are we going or not?”

A silent moment passed for Leroy amid the noise. Then, he sprinted after the train, his sneakers crunching and grinding the ballast beneath, until he caught up. He leapt and clutched the side ladder, then mounted the rungs and pulled himself atop the platform. As he settled back, breathing heavily, he turned to his left to find Ant wearing that million dollar grin, legs extended and hanging off the edge of the platform.

“So, where to?”

* * *

It was twenty minutes into the ride, and Ant had talked through all of them.

Despite his vow of silence, he spoke of many things: the types of train cars best suited for riding, the gorgeous landscapes along the Pacific Northwest, the characters he’d encountered. He spoke at length about the people, places, and things in his life, but never of himself.
 

It was just as well with Leroy, who hadn’t wanted to talk about anything to anyone. He leaned on his closed fist, apathetic on the outside, but seething inside. Every word Ant spoke was a reminder that he’d breached a barrier, invaded Leroy’s personal space. He had no right to tag along. Leroy bristled. This was the future of his life, not some whimsical adventure to entertain a jaded middle-aged man.

How silly he’d been to believe Ant’s little speech about not calling him ‘sir,’ to think that he was any different. When it came down to it, how to refer to him was irrelevant; he was an adult, same as the rest of them. All he wanted was to control Leroy, and that was exactly what Leroy sought to avoid.

Leroy gripped the ladder, transfixed by the passing low-income housing, smoldering from Ant’s ramblings.

It wasn’t all bad, though. In the short time he’d been riding, Leroy concluded that grainers were better than boxcars. The slanted walls at each end of the car were ideal for more than just cover and a place to sit—the lack of enclosure permitted a much fuller view of the surroundings breezing past. And Leroy could see everything he was leaving behind for miles. He liked that.

He liked that, as Ant had taunted earlier, he couldn’t get locked in.

He also liked that there was a giant iron V separating his side of the platform from Ant’s. It gave him some notion of privacy. But best of all, if he really wanted privacy, he could go
inside
the grainer.

Through a hole in the end of the car, big enough for any reasonable-sized human, was a near empty sanctuary from everything outside, present company included. A foot-high layer of old grain padded the floor. It would be easy to sleep on such material.

As he spent more time in there, he noticed an emergent sense of dread blooming within. His breathing accelerated. The shadows in the container seemed to grow longer, larger, even with light bleeding in from outside. That sense of claustrophobia he experienced in the closed boxcar shimmered through him, and he scrambled out of the hole and back to his seat. No reason to hang out in there. Besides, he didn’t want to be rude to Ant. His
savior
.

“Coming back to the party, eh?”

“Never been very social. Even at parties, I just sit in the corner.”

“Was it your father? Did he hit you?” Ant’s eyes drilled into Leroy.

Leroy was blindsided by the question.

“The reason you ran away, I mean. It is nothing to be embarrassed about. Him, on the other hand…” Ant trailed off, a sneer on his lips.

“Not for a long time…” Leroy wrung his hands together. “I mean, I haven’t seen him. Not for a long time. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He didn’t even want to think about it, but in the back of his mind he knew it was inevitable. Folsom wasn’t that far away. Those nights when he’d imagined taking off and finding his father, it had always seemed a distant impossibility, not something that would actually happen. Yet here he was.

“A change of topic, then. It would be helpful to know your destination.”

Funny, Leroy thought. It was less a change of topic than Ant realized.

He leaned back on the wall behind him, obscuring Ant from view. Leroy forced the words out. “I’m headed to Folsom.”

“Oh boy. Nothing good ever came from that sentence.” Ant peered around the metal divider. “I assume you are referring to the prison.”

With a nod, Leroy sighed. Might as well get it all out.
 

Ant recessed into his mind, gazing off. A moment later he was back. “That would be why you have not seen him in a long time. Your father.”

“Thing is, I don’t even know why he’s in there. Last time I saw him I must’ve been, like, five. Momma wouldn’t talk about him, ‘cept to talk bad about him.”

“I must ask again: did you run away? Because if you plan to visit your father in Folsom prison, they are going to run a background check.”

Leroy must’ve looked the way he felt, because Ant burst out laughing. “My apologies. So you did run away. How long has it been?”

“Two days.”

Ant raised his eyebrows, stretching his face. “I see.”

“I got till friday, though. She thinks I’m at a friend’s house.”

Leroy realized he felt better after talking to Ant. Each detail he let slip reduced the pressure of the vice grip on his mind. The process was a bit painful, though, akin to popping a pimple, he mused.They both laid back and, for the first time since they’d gotten on, there was silence. An enduring silence, not one broken by Ant’s repeated remembrances of an event or person he thought Leroy simply
must
hear about. But to Leroy’s surprise, that wasn’t what he wanted anymore. He wanted to get it out, talk things over, pop some pimples.

“Smiley.”

Ant peered around the metal divider again. “Pardon?”

“Leroy Smiley. You asked about my name earlier.”

“Well then, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Leroy. You know, for a kid named Smiley, you do not often smile.”

“Haven’t heard
that
one before,” Leroy lied. A short time passed, then he said “If I had a reason to smile, I would.”

“Why are you visiting your father in prison, Leroy Frowny?”

“Because he knows.”

“How cryptic. What does he know?”

“He knows about her.”

“You have a penchant for dramatics, no? Who is she?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Wow,” Ant’s eyes opened wide. “Is this a comedy routine?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to come.”

“It was not a complaint. You piqued my interest. What I meant was, who is she to you? How do you know of her?”

Leroy sat back again, grateful for the cast metal confessional between them. “She… never mind. It’s gonna sound dumb if I say it. I can’t risk that.”

“Not much of a risk, is it? I will not judge. Promise.”

“I can’t risk it seeming dumb to
me
. This’ll all be for nothing.”

“If you genuinely want it, it could never be dumb.”

There was silence again, aside from the rumble of the train.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” Ant said.

“How did you know the train was about to leave?”

“Fred told me.”

Leroy crinkled his brow. “We were the only ones there.”

“F-R-E-D: flashing rear-end device. The red light at the tail of the train.” Ant tapped it with his outstretched foot. “When Fred starts blinking, it is time to go.”

He’d have to remember that. As the little town beside the train tracks streaked by, an overwhelming feeling gripped his chest. He felt as if his heart was bound to explode with the words if his mouth wouldn’t. He had to let it out. Drawing a deep breath, he said “She was my babysitter.”

Ant kept quiet and hidden.

“A family friend. It was so long ago. Can’t remember her face, her voice, her name… But I remember the little things. Her hand on mine as she taught me how to paint. How she’d lift me up to climb the big tree behind the apartment. How safe I felt with her.”

“That is not dumb. She sounds wonderful. Your father knows her location?”

“I hope so. It’s all I got to go on. I’d be happy with just a name.”

“Tell me more of this woman.”

“Like I said, it’s fuzzy. Happiness… lived in her. She was the opposite of momma. Not really sure how they were friends, now that I think about it. In some ways, she was more of a parent to me than my own.”

“How did you lose contact with her?”

Leroy rubbed his knuckles. “Parents got home late one night. Momma was yelling, daddy was angry. Things got real bad. She sat in my room with me, smiling. Told me she’d always be there if I needed her. Then daddy came in and threw her out the front door, and I never saw her again.”

When Ant didn’t answer, Leroy glanced around the divider to find Ant wearing a troubled expression, his eyebrows arched, eyes narrowed.

It took him longer than it should have to notice Leroy staring at him. When he did, he spoke softly, yet loud enough to be heard over the engines. “There is always a reason to smile, Leroy. I will not hear anything to the contrary.”

Leroy absorbed that. He nodded.

“So, your plan is to find this woman and show up after… how long?”

“Like, ten years. And yes, that’s my plan. See, this is why I didn’t wanna bring it up. The more I talk about it, the less realistic it seems.” Leroy folded his arms. “I’m already out here. I can’t just go back.”

Even if Ms. Stacey would take him back, he’d feel like a failure. Between that, the undesirable surroundings, and the notion of what could’ve been, it would all be too much to bear. The thought put a knot in his gut.

The train’s thrum grew louder, as if someone was steadily turning up the volume knob. But it wasn’t just the volume that increased. There was a depth to it, a reverberative quality. The sound swelled until it was all around them.

Leroy looked side to side, then darkness encapsulated them.

“A tunnel,” Ant shouted. “Luckily, it is a short one.”

He felt silly. Tunnels had only existed in pictures for him previously. Once his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he could see the walls carved from sandstone. It was beyond him how the rock formation didn’t collapse in on itself, but he figured if it hadn’t yet, it wasn’t likely to now.

“A long tunnel can be a death trap. Diesel fumes tend to linger if it is not well ventilated. Prolonged exposure is unhealthy, to say the least.”

There was, now that Leroy thought about it, a smoky, acerbic scent on the air. As he drew a harsh breath, sunlight washed over him, and a breeze dispersed the fumes. He coughed out what was left in his lungs, then pulled in cool, fresh air. If that was a short tunnel, he had no desire to experience a long one.

Leroy shifted his weight and changed position when he noticed a pressure in his midsection, and the strong urge to urinate. He turned to Ant. “So, if I had to go to the bathroom…”

Ant was slightly taken aback. “One or two?”

“You’re in luck,” Leroy laughed. “Get it? Like urine. Any, uh… tips?”

“Lock your arm around the ladder, find your balance, and blast off.”

Leroy grasped the bar beside him and rose, taking a wide stance. He peeked around the divider. Ant wasn’t looking. Slipping his right arm through the ladder, Leroy wished the two of them were on opposite sides. His left hand, which had never taken on this job before, fumbled with his shorts, then he let it rip.

Ant was right, it was satisfying. As he sat back down, he watched the sparse golden surroundings grow green and mountainous. The tracks spanned dunes and hills, winding, climbing, and then the land went flat again, as if the earth had grown grumpy momentarily.”How much further to Folsom?” he asked.

Ant leaned forward to face him, wrapping his arms around his tucked up knees. “The tunnel back there was the Tehachapi loop,” he said with a strong accent, “which would put us a few miles out from Keene. So a few hours, yet.”

“So what’s your deal?”

Ant pressed a hand to his chest. “My deal?”

“Your turn to spill the beans.”

“I think you spilled enough for both of us back at the jungle.”

“Don’t dodge the question.”

Ant waved a hand. “I am simply an old fool. Let us leave it at that.”

“No,” Leroy answered, “Let us not. Trust works two ways.”

“Very well. What can I tell you to satisfy your curiosity?”

“Start simple. Where are you from?”

“Although my father was Italian, I was born in Beirut.”

Leroy sat expressionless.

“Lebanon.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It is a magical land, where wine flows as river and golden clouds rain coins,” Ant said, hands gesturing wildly.

“Oh,” Leroy rolled his eyes. “That rings a bell. For real, where is it?”

“I could tell you it borders Syria and Israel, but would that be of any use?”