The Boxcar Blues (4 page)

The Sheriff shot a scowl at his overzealous
partner, then said, "We got a message about two young guys who
assaulted a couple of hoboes and threw them off a train. One of the
bums described his attackers. He said they're armed with knives and
very dangerous."

Again the deputy spoke up, "They're the
queer type too because they fucked both the hoboes before they
killed ‘em."

"Alton, we don't know who did the rapes. All
it said was that these guys were raped before they was killed, but
we don't know who did it."

"C'mon, Wendell, you know damn well, ain't
no white guy gonna rape another white guy. It had to be the black
boy. The big buck couldn't wait to find his self some pussy."

The Sheriff, clearly tired of his deputy's
ranting, shouted, "Alton, shut up for a minute so I can talk to
these men. I need volunteers for a posse, and I'll need one of you
to drive his car. The county will pay for your gas and
ammunition."

All four men volunteered. Going after
hardened criminals beat the boredom of playing cards for match
sticks. They left to get their guns.

CHAPTER FIVE

After walking for nearly an hour, the boys
saw a farm house in the distance. They ducked into the field and
approached the house from the cover of the corn. Their hunger
prompted talk about begging for a meal even though it would expose
them.

"Catwalk, I gotta get something to eat and
most farm houses have plenty of food. Hell, they probably even got
a vegetable garden."

"I know that, Curly, but if you go to that
house, they can identify us. If anyone comes looking for us, we're
gonna get arrested."

Curly considered this, but hunger was over
riding his apprehension. He said, "Here’s what we’ll do. I've got a
better chance of getting a handout than you do. Stay hidden and
I'll try the house. If I get something to eat, I'll go down the
road and you meet me when we're out of sight of the house."

"O.K. If anyone comes looking for us while
you’re gone, I'm gonna hightail it for the tracks and catch out on
an eastbound."

Curly said, "Don't worry; I'll get us some
grub."

Curly ran across the road and approached the
house, while looking the place over. He saw a two story house in
need of paint and some old plows and manure spreaders sitting in
the remains of a shelter. Beside it another shed had collapsed
until it was nothing more than a pile of weathered lumber. In spite
of the signs of despair, someone had put some work into the place.
They had a large vegetable garden, encircled by chicken wire and a
new chicken coop, which sounded as if it housed a couple dozen
hens. The barn had been repaired and beside it a few head of
Guernsey dairy cows lay in a corral. Nearing the door he felt his
chances were pretty good, but that's what he'd thought at the house
back in Dakota Springs.

Curly took off his hat and gently knocked on
the screen door. He heard nothing and knocked a little harder. To
his surprise, he heard the metallic ‘klatch’ of a pistol being
cocked behind him and a female voice said, "Hold it right
there."

Curly froze. He never thought he'd never be
apprehended so quickly, but someone had gotten the drop on him and
he could do little about it. Running away crossed his mind, but the
pistol said otherwise. The voice said, "Turn around."

He did and found himself staring at a tall
red-headed woman holding a Colt Forty-Five that looked like a
cannon.

Maxine Puckett wore bib overalls and a
gingham shirt. Her long red hair was wrapped up, on top of her
head; sparkling green eyes sized up Curly, "Christ, you're just a
kid," she said as she lowered the pistol. "I thought you were one
of the desperadoes they warned me about."

Curly said, "Um, how do, Ma'am. I'm just
looking for a little work so's I can get something to eat. I'd be
glad to clean out that barn, or milk your cows."

"What's your name, boy?"

"Abraham, Ma-am. Abraham Levitz, but most
people call me Curly."

"How long since you ate?”

"Ah, it's been two days, since we ate—I
mean, I ate, Ma'am."

"Well Curly, I just cleaned and cut up a
couple pullets. You think you could stand some fried chicken and
biscuits with gravy?"

Curly's mouth started watering at the
thought of such a sumptuous meal. He stammered, "Yes Ma'am, I sure
could, and I'll be glad to work to earn my meal."

"You say you can milk cows?"

"Sure can, yes Ma'am."

"O.K., Curly, my name's Maxine. The milking
stool and bucket are just inside the barn door. Give those cows
some attention and you'll have fresh milk with your dinner."

"Sure thing, ma'am."

While milking, Curly thought of how he could
take some food to Catwalk. He didn't want to blow the deal by
telling the lady he'd rather take the food with him instead of
eating here. He was on the last cow when he decided he'd eat here,
and then tell her he'd do some extra work if he could take
something with him.

When he carried the milk to the house,
however, he found his worries were unfounded. Maxine was sitting on
the back stoop smoking a cigarette. She asked him, "You want a
smoke?"

Curly answered, "That sounds good.
Ready-mades are hard to come by on the road."

Maxine handed him a tin of Chesterfields and
asked, "Where’s your friend?"

Curly coughed. "Beg your pardon, ma'am?"

"Your friend, the one traveling with you,
where is he?"

Curly hesitated, but then decided to come
clean. "He's waiting over in the corn field."

"Not many people travel alone these days. Go
get him. I've got enough for two."

"I appreciate this, Maxine. I'll be right
back."

Curly ran across the road and hollered for
Catwalk. He'd yelled three times when he heard, "I hear ya', Curly.
Quit makin' so much noise."

Curly tugged at his friend's arm and said,
"C'mon, the lady that lives here is real nice and she's fixin' a
fried chicken dinner with biscuits for us right now."

Catwalk shot Curly a troubled look and asked
him, "Are you sure we should eat here?"

"Whad'ya mean? Of course we should eat here.
She's fixin' fried chicken with biscuits an' gravy. We ain't gonna
get a better offer than that in a year."

"Well, O.K." Catwalk still sounded
apprehensive.

"What are you worried about?"

"It could be a trap. As soon as we sit down
to eat, the sheriff shows up and arrests us."

Curly had been so focused on the sumptuous
meal that he hadn't thought about this possibility. He told
Catwalk, "Nah, this ain't no trap. This lady ain't like that."

"How’re you so sure?"

"Well, shit. I ain't sure, but I'm to the
point where I'd rather be arrested with a full stomach than goin'
down the road on an empty stomach. C'mon, it's O.K."

Although Catwalk had some reservations, he
followed his friend. Fried chicken sounded real good.

Maxine Puckett watched the boys walk across
the road. In her previous profession she'd become an accurate judge
of men’s character. She didn't think these were the desperadoes
Barker had warned her about, but they fit the physical description,
and that could be as bad as being guilty. She decided to find out
what was going on, because according to Chet, the Deputy was ready
to shoot the colored boy on sight. She knew of Alton Jones' Klan
activities and his reputation as a violent hot head. If anyone
needed a warning, it was the two boys and not the local
residents.

She met them at the door and said, "Come on
in. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

The boys shuffled into the kitchen, hats in
hand. Maxine noticed the black boy’s eyes were the size of saucers.
She offered Curly a cigarette, which he accepted. When she offered
Catwalk one, he shook his head. She asked him, "Have you ever
smoked a cigarette?"

Catwalk shook his head. She asked Curly,
"Who's your friend?"

"This is Luke, but I call him Catwalk 'cause
he can run a boxcar catwalk like a rabbit."

Maxine smiled and said, "That so,
Catwalk?"

He nodded, his eyes filled with
apprehension. Maxine said, "You can talk, I don't mind."

He cleared his throat and managed, "Thank
you, ma'am."

Maxine motioned to the table, "Sit down. We
need to talk before we eat."

She lit a cigarette and said, "The sheriff
and his deputy are spreading the word about a couple of murderers.
Seems these guys killed and raped a couple hoboes over by Bailey's
Junction. Their description fits you two, but I don't think you're
the killer types. You better tell me what this is all about,
because there's a misunderstanding circulating, and you could be in
a hell of a lot of trouble."

Curly took a drag on his cigarette, and then
told his story.

When he finished, Maxine asked Catwalk, "Did
you hurt the guy before you threw him off the train?"

Catwalk looked at Curly; he wasn't sure what
to say. Curly answered, "He broke his arm to get the knife away
before he threw him out the door."

Maxine again asked, "You sure that's all you
did?"

This time Catwalk answered, "Yes ma'am, when
I saw they had Curly's pants down.…"

Curly piped up, "Ya' didn't have to tell her
that."

Maxine said, "Were they trying to rape you,
Curly?"

Sheepishly, "Uh, yes ma'am."

Maxine asked, "So what happened to the
second hobo?"

Curly said, "Well, see these guys were some
real mean bastards. I didn't know what to do, so I threatened to
cut him. He begged me not to, but I felt like hurting this guy
really bad."

He took a drag off his cigarette and Maxine
asked, "What did you do?"

"I wanted to stick that knife in him, but
Catwalk told me not to, or he'd die for sure."

Maxine said, "Good thinking, Catwalk."

Curly continued, "I made the guy jump off
the train without his pants."

Maxine talked as she served dinner. "You
better listen close because these are the cold, hard facts. You
both murdered someone. The circumstances point to self defense, but
unless you can find a lawyer to defend you and a jury to acquit
you, you're going to do hard time. And Catwalk, in this part of the
country, they'll find a way to string you up before you even see a
courtroom. Now this deputy that saw you duck into the field, he's
as mean as the guys you threw off the train. He hates black people
and he uses his badge as an excuse to shoot them. The sheriff ain't
got the guts to do anything about it, so he pretends it ain't
happening."

Everyone started eating. Maxine said, "I
want you guys to stay in the hayloft until it gets dark. I'm going
to give you directions to a farm over by Junction City that has hay
trucks leaving for Oklahoma in the morning. Hop on one of those
trucks and stay out of sight. Don't try to hop a train 'cause the
railroad bulls around here are bad. Head north and try to find work
on a harvest crew."

Curly said, "Trouble is, Maxine, there ain't
no work out there."

Maxine became upset that the boys didn't
realize how much hatred they were up against. "Curly, damn it! You
can't stay around here. There are too many people looking for
someone to take out their anger on. You stay around here, you'll
end up behind bars and Catwalk—you’re a dead man walking."

This brought about a silence while two boys,
who were growing up much quicker than they'd planned, finished
their meal.

For the search, Deputy Jones had been paired
with John Townsend, a local farmer. He'd chosen John because he had
an Oldsmobile sedan and was meek enough not to question the
deputy’s instructions.

The Deputy had planned his twofold strategy
that would continue the hunt for the two killers and give him a
chance to pay a call to the red head who’d moved into the old
Clements place. Ever since she’d moved in, Jones had been trying to
gain Maxine’s favor. Because she was a retired whore from New
Orleans, he thought she'd be an easy mark. To his chagrin he’d
discovered that she was more discriminating than he’d planned on
and had resisted his advances. Now, he had a reason to go by her
place, and he was determined to impress her. First, he had to get
rid of Townsend.

They drove to an intersection of two farm
roads and he told Townsend to get out and watch the roads from all
four directions. The farmer asked, "What should I do if I see
them?"

"Just fire a couple of shots into the air;
I'll be back right away."

As the deputy drove to Maxine's place,
thoughts of the shapely red head brought a lecherous smile to his
face. This time he was going to be a little more assertive in his
advances toward the woman.

CHAPTER SIX

The boys had been in the hayloft for an hour
when Maxine saw the car pull into the yard. Seeing Deputy Jones
step out of the Oldsmobile, she swore out loud. She despised the
man and right now he was the last person she wanted to see.

Jones yelled, “Hello, the house.”

Maxine walked out to meet him, while
thinking of the quickest way to get rid of him without raising his
suspicion. She said, “Hello, Alton. What can I do for you?”

With an air of importance, Jones hitched up
his gun belt and tilted his Stetson back on his head. With a grin
he said, “I came to tell you about a couple of bad hombres that
might be around here.”

“
Chet already told me
about them. I haven’t seen them; nobody’s been here.”

Hoping Jones would get the hint that the
conversation was over, she turned and walked toward the door.

The Deputy said, “You ain’t bein’ very
neighborly. Most people would invite me in for a cup of
coffee.”

“
I don’t have time, Alton.
I have to get a pie out of the oven and then feed my chickens.
Thanks for stopping by.”