Excerpt from the Book

We were running fast, past the smoke and factories of the city, into the open countryside. It was quiet now, but back at the station it was a different story. The crowd and commotion and crush of people made me wish I could find Mr. Simmons and go back home. But I knew I couldn’t. There was no one there.

I woke up early this morning anxious about leaving and worrying about what was going to happen next. My heart was still pounding minutes ago when I boarded the Pullman at Union Station in Indianapolis and found a seat all alone, hoping no one would sit next to or across from me. I didn’t want to have to talk or answer any questions about how old I was, or why I was alone, or explain what happened to my father. I just wanted to get through the summer without any more bad news.

I’d never been on a train or away from home before, so I sat there all nervous, watching people come down the aisle looking for seats. I was in the back, near the rear door, and when I heard the conductor call, “All aboard,” I thought I was home free. But at the last minute a woman carrying a little boy shuffled up the steps and stood over my shoulder, eyeing the empty seats across from me.

I felt a rumble and the train lurching forward, and the next thing I knew they were sitting there staring at me. She was a fancy-looking lady in high-heeled shoes, blue suit, and hat perched on the side of her head. She sat with the little boy, about three, on her lap.

I caught her glancing at me as if she was sizing me up, like noticing my pants were too long and my shirt collar too big, but she didn’t say anything. Mom always got my clothes a little big now that I was growing so fast.

I didn’t want her to ask where my parents were and have to explain what happened, so I looked away. Across the aisle and up a row, a man in a dark suit sat facing me, reading a newspaper. I could only see the top of his head. His hair was combed back and parted in the middle. He’d been reading the paper since we’d left the city. His suit and tie and newspaper made him look pretty important.

I heard something across the aisle. A serviceman in a brown uniform was sitting alone, snoring. He wore one of those hats like the cooks wear at the White Castle in the city, the kind that unfold and sit slightly cockeyed on the crown of the head. Only his was brown. His chin was drooping and every once in a while his head would jerk, and he’d look around to see where he was. I figured he was on furlough from the war in Korea. He looked to be about eighteen or nineteen—probably enlisted right after high school. That’s what my Uncle Jake did. He joined the Navy at age seventeen.

Just then the conductor came by and took my ticket out of the holder on the back of my seat. He stood tall and stroked his moustache as he studied my destination.

“Terre Haute, huh?” he said as he peered over his spectacles, those half -moon kind, resting halfway down his nose.

“Yes sir.” I was afraid he was going to ask what I was going to do there. I didn’t want to get into that.

“Your name’s Garrett?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you got on in the city. You traveling alone?”

“Yes sir.”

“You look kinda young for that. Your first time?”

“Yes sir.” Before they left for Cleveland, Mom had gotten me a ride down to Indianapolis with Mr. Simmons, the shop teacher at the high school. He was going down there anyway to visit the Army surplus depot at Fort Harrison and said he would see that I got downtown to Union Station and got on the right train.

“You look like you ought to be in school.”

I glanced at the lady across from me. She looked like she was wondering the same thing. “We get out early,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow

“So kids can help with the planting,” I added.

“A country boy, huh?” he asked as he checked the ticket of the soldier across the aisle. “You people must be quick to get it all done by May. City folks go to school into June. What grade you in?”

“I finished seventh last week.”

“Pretty young,” he said, stroking his chin. “Well, we’ll keep an eye on you. If you need anything just let me know. The restroom’s up front. It’ll take another hour and a half to get to Terre Haute.”

“Thanks,” I said, but the conductor was already checking the ticket of the lady across from me. I heard her say she’d gotten on in “Bala’mer.” I think she meant Baltimore.

By the time he finished working his way up the aisle marking tickets, I began to get sleepy. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I woke up hearing the painful moaning, and then the light went on in their bedroom, and I heard talking. There was movement and more talking, then after a while, silence, and I fell back asleep until the next time. And the next time it woke me again, and this went on until Mom got me up to get dressed, before they left for Cleveland where Dr. Spellman is supposed to work miracles.

I flinched when the conductor called out, “Next stop, Greencastle.”