The Boxcar Blues (7 page)

After Jones left to continue his search,
Sheriff Wendell Tyler walked down to Doc Cooper’s house and
confronted him while he was feeding his chickens, “Mornin’ Doc. Say
when you’re finished feeding your flock I need you to follow me out
to the Puckett place. My deputy tells me she was murdered yesterday
and I’d like you to bring the body back here. We’ll use the jail as
a morgue.”

“
Murdered?”

“
Yep, that’s what Alton
said.”

“
Any idea who did
it?”

Sheriff Tyler stroked his chin while
choosing his words. “Well, nothing definite yet.”

“
OK, give me a moment to
get my bag.”

“
Take your time, Doc. She
ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

After Doc Cooper had left for the jail with
Maxine’s body lying under a tarp in the back of his truck, Sheriff
Tyler began looking around her house. It wasn’t long before he
found the slug that had killed her in the wall. He dug it out and
studied it. Clearly, it was a .38 caliber slug. His deputy, who
carried a .38 police special, had told him the boy had shot Maxine
with her Colt .45. His findings came as no great surprise.

As he drove back to his office, he thought
over the events of the past few days and didn’t like what he’d be
forced to do. The sheriff and the people in the county had put up
with Alton Jones because although he was a bigoted hothead, for the
most part he was also harmless. True he pulled an occasional stunt
like pistol whipping a drunk or forcing his attention on one of the
Oriental women at the laundry, but mostly he went on his patrols
when he was supposed to and kept the vagrants away because they
were well aware of his gun-happy reputation.

Now, however, it would be time to arrest
Jones and charge him with the murder of Maxine Puckett. The sheriff
knew how this would go down and he planned on having plenty of help
around when he confronted his deputy.

Traveling non-stop for the entire night,
Catwalk had found the road to the hay farm, but hadn’t headed in
that direction yet. The sun was just peeking above the eastern
horizon and he realized that this would be the most dangerous time
for him. For the people searching for him, he’d be easier to see if
he was following a road, even if he tried to stay out of sight.
Then he wondered if they’d have the dogs in their search? When he
was still on the farm he’d seen packs of bloodhounds that they’d
used to find escapees from chain gangs. This scared him because his
only means of covering up his scent would be to travel in water
where the dogs couldn’t smell him, but that would also slow him
down.

He’d found a creek where he drank his fill,
then splashed some water in his face to help him stay awake. He’d
thought about Curly often during the night. They’d travelled
together enough that he normally knew how his friend thought about
things, but this was the first time that he’d been the subject of a
manhunt. He wouldn’t blame Curly if he went out on his own and
avoided any contact with him. He’d heard the deputy when he told
Curly that he’d cut his throat if he told anyone about Maxine’s
killing. Cat suspected that the threat also might deter Curly from
finding any help. This was another indication to Catwalk of just
how alone he was.

He was sitting in a patch of tall field
grass near the bank of the creek, when he saw someone in the
distance. He hadn’t heard any cars and this person was coming from
the opposite direction of the road, so he didn’t think that they
were part of the search party.

Cat watched the person walking toward him.
At first he thought there was something familiar about the guy, but
just as quick he decided that this was just wishful thinking. He
crept back into the field grass where he’d be out of sight when the
stranger got nearer. He waited several minutes then raised his head
enough to see through the tops of the grass. What he saw brought
smile to his face.

His first impression about the familiarity
had been correct. It was Curly that he’d been watching. Catwalk
looked around to make sure that there was no one else about then
said, “Hey, Curly.”

His friend looked toward him and yelled,
“Cat!”

“
Be quiet, you
idiot.”

Curly ran toward him and slid down beside
him in the tall grass. “How you doin’, man?”

“
I’m trying to stay out of
sight.”

“
I heard you escaped, but
Jones has a posse looking for you. I seen him last night at this
diner and they’re driving a green Oldsmobile.”

“
You saw him? Did he see
you?”

Curly told Catwalk the whole story about his
ride with Norm and Slim

Catwalk shook his head at their dilemma,
then asked, “Do you think we should try to make it up to that hay
farm without being seen?”

I think that’s our best bet for getting out
of the area. The law is going to be watching the trains on this
line, but if we can get up north to another rail line we might be
able to catch out without being spotted.”

“
Yeah, I think you’re
right. I could sure use some sleep but I guess we’d better keep
moving.”

The boys didn’t sleep, but cautiously made
their way to the farm that Maxine had mentioned. Once there, they
bedded down in a field within sight of the house, and slept in
shifts. Dawn hadn’t yet broken when Catwalk saw the first light in
the house.

“
They’re getting up,
Curly. We’d better get in the hay, before they leave without
us.”

The boys ran to a truck loaded with loose
hay and burrowed their way inside. Fifteen minutes later they heard
the engine start. Soon after that they were heading toward an
unknown destination, praying that Maxine had given them good
information.

Huddled together under the hay the boys said
little as the truck bounced down the road for several hours. At a
fuel stop, Catwalk whispered, “Do you think this is where we get
off?”

“
No, I heard the driver
tell someone to fill it up. They’re getting gas.”

“
Good. That means we’ll
get farther away from Dillard and that deputy. He’s probably
steamed about me escaping and I know he’s going to make sure that
no one forgets about us.”

Curly said, “You think we should look for
work up ahead?”

“
We can’t. As soon as we
get off this truck, we lay low until dark and then catch out on a
west bound. My Momma told me about a place out west called New
Mexico. We should try to find a red-ball that’s headed out there.
It might be far enough away where no one knows about us. We’ll look
for work there.”

“
Anywhere we can find work
and they ain’t hunting us would be great.”

CHAPTER TEN

Several hours later, the truck stopped again
and Curly peeked out from under the hay. “I think this is as far as
we go. The driver’s going into a big barn. Let’s get out of
here.”

The boys slid out of the hay and ran into a
corn field. They silently walked through the field, each with his
own thoughts about their situation. Finally, Curly said, “I wish we
could find something to eat before we catch out.”

“
Do you want to try some
of the houses around here?”

Curly spoke like it pained him, “No, let’s
keep moving.”

On the other side of the field they heard
the distant wail of a train whistle, and instinctively headed
toward the sound.

Just after dark, Catwalk and Curly hopped
onto the ladder of a refrigerated boxcar. They knew it was
dangerous riding in reefer cars because you had to use the top
door, where they loaded the ice, to get inside. If the door closed
they were trapped until someone unloaded the car. If the train was
on a long run, this might be for hours and they could freeze to
death. But, because of the dangers of riding in reefers there
wouldn’t be any other hoboes riding in the car, and it might be
carrying fruit.

Curly opened the top door and Catwalk jammed
a stick into it to prop it open. While Catwalk watched for bulls,
Curly climbed into the dark car to check out the cargo.

A minute later Curly hollered, “We’re in
luck, Cat. We got all the peaches and apples we can eat for a year,
but it’s colder n’ hell down here.”

“
Bring up some peaches.”
As soon as he uttered these words, Catwalk saw a swinging light in
the distance—the lantern of a railroad bull. He stuck his head
through the door and yelled, “Hurry up, Curly, there’s a bull
coming.”

A gun-shot pierced the darkness; a foot from
Catwalk’s leg the wood splintered. He yelled, “He’s shootin’,
Curly. I’m going down to ride the rods. I’ll be back to get
you.”

Catwalk closed the door, ran to the next car
and scrambled down the ladder. At the very bottom of the rail car
he climbed onto the two thick metal rods that ran the length of the
car. This was the most dangerous place to ride a boxcar because he
was barely a foot above the ties and gravel that were whizzing by
at seventy miles an hour. If he fell off, it was certain death, but
he hoped the bull wouldn’t look down here.

Catwalk waited for several minutes. He
thought about Curly in the freezing boxcar. Did the bull find him?
Most likely, if the bull knew he was in there, he’d let him freeze
to death.

Then Catwalk saw the glow of the lantern and
heard the bull shouting to be heard above the noise of the train.
“You ain’t getting away from me by ridin’ the rods, boy. I got ways
of dealing with you.”

Catwalk knew what was coming. The more
vicious bulls carried foot-long lead weights and ropes with them.
When they found someone riding the rods they tied the weight onto
the rope and let the rope out under the boxcar. The five pound
weight bounced off the ground until it got to the hobo, then it
beat the hell out of them. Once the bull heard the hobo scream,
they’d leave it there until the rider fell off, or got beat to
death.

Catwalk had also been told of a way to avoid
getting killed, but it was tricky and dangerous in itself. He
watched for the sparks from the weight as it made its way toward
him. When it was within his reach, while balancing precariously on
the rods, he caught the weight. Holding it he screamed for the bull
to pull the weight in. Catwalk then untied the weight and dropped
it. He let out one last agonizing scream and hoped his act was
convincing.

He waited a couple minutes then looked back
toward the coupler and saw the lantern light growing dim. His ruse
might have worked, but the bull could be on to him and just lulling
him out where he could shoot him. Still he had to get to Curly.

He slid to the end of the car and saw the
bull walking away from him on a flat car. When the bull was out of
sight he crawled out of the death trap.

He climbed to the top of the reefer and
opened the door. “Curly, c’mon, the bull’s gone, but he’ll be
back.”

Curly handed Catwalk a half a bag of peaches
and climbed out the door. “Jesus Christ, you took your time. I’m
freezing.”

“
I had to go down and ride
the rods. The bull used a lead weight on me.”

“
No shit. How’d you
survive?”

“
I’ll tell you later. We
got to drop off. I want to get away from that bull.”

The boys found a creek not far from the
tracks. After eating several peaches each, they took time to bathe.
Afterward, lying on the bank, Catwalk said, “Those peaches sure
tasted good, but they ain’t as good as Maxine’s fried chicken.”

“
Yeah, she was a nice
lady. I wonder if they found her body yet.”

“
I don’t know. I hope
someone gives her nice burial with a preacher to read over
her.”

“
Hey Cat, when I was at
that diner the guy who drove us there heard Jones telling the
people in the diner that we murdered her?”

“
I ain’t surprised. It was
either him or us, and he ain’t going to confess to no
murder.”

“
God damn it. What are we
gonna do?”

“
Just keep moving. There
ain’t nothing else we can do.”

Deputy Alton Jones returned to the sheriff’s
office, with the intent of handing in his badge and resigning so he
could continue his search on his own beyond the boundaries of the
county. Sheriff Tyler had other ideas.

In an unusually aggressive tone the Sheriff
said, “Alton, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Maxine
Puckett. Hand over your badge and weapon.”

Alton drew his revolver, backed away and
challenged the sheriff. “You ain’t gonna arrest me, Wendell. You
got no proof that I killed the whore lady. Them boys killed her
just as sure as we’re standing here.”

“
Jesus Christ, man. Have
you gone nuts? You claim that one of the drifters shot Maxine with
her forty-five. I’ve got a thirty eight slug that I took out of her
wall. Now hand me your sidearm and don’t give me any trouble or
I’ll add on a charge of resisting arrest.”

“
Sorry, sheriff, I ain’t
going to jail.”

Gene Spencer, who’d been deputized to take
Jones’ place, had been listening from another room. When he heard
Jones resisting, he crept up behind him and clubbed Alton over the
head. They took his limp, stinking body into a cell and locked the
door.

The sheriff said, “When he comes to make him
take a bath. I don’t know how he got that stench but I’m not living
with it in here.”

The boys slept in shifts until Catwalk heard
an approaching locomotive. He woke Curly and said, “We’re in luck.
It’s a Big Boy from the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe.”

Curly stood up and saw the monstrous engine
carrying the two white flags with red balls that marked a train
carrying two tenders. He playfully punched his partner on the arm.
“This is our lucky day, Cat. This baby can make a couple hundred
miles before the next stop. By tonight we’ll be far away from here;
we might even make it to New Mexico.”