Train Time For Two

 

           Maurice arrived in Skykomish just as the sky was darkening over the Cascade Range. It was starting to get chilly too, and a little misty rain was falling. Portal hopping sure beat walking he had to admit. Ralph was the only friend this howler had, but what a friend he was!

            He saw that there was a café near, so he strolled over the deserted front street to take a look.  Closed. Probably one of those breakfast and lunch places. He was hungry, but then he was always hungry lately. He didn’t have the price of a meal anyhow. He sat on his haunches on the north side of the building and kept an eye open for arriving trains heading east. It got fully dark. He waited.
            Soon, he heard the unmistakable thrumming sound of a slowly arriving locomotive pulling a freight train. This was a break because an Amtrack wouldn’t have done him a bit of good. With a lot of squealing brake and rail noise the freight came to a lengthy stop. He had to jog down the track a ways to get to where the cars were. There, he waited again, eyes glowing in the misty dark. Looking down the row, he spotted an open car. The door was slid open only a few inches, but he could manage that.
            This was the time for a sprint. He wanted to flash across the space between himself and the boxcar just in case anyone was around. He lit out in a full dash as fast as a howler could run. Just as he got to the car his foot found a wet metal surface and he slipped.  He slipped hard. Maurice went face down with all the force of his running, muzzle first into the unforgiving railroad track right before the wheel.
            Poor Maurice.  Sometimes a guy just can’t get a break. He stood. He shook himself there in the moist dim evening. Nothing seemed broken, until he checked face. Yep. The other upper canine was gone. And his face was bleeding. It dripped onto the ground beneath his feet. In spite of his injury, he had to make this train, so after looking stealthily in both directions, he shoved the door a bit more open and hopped right in, in one smooth leap. He is a bit of a monster, after all!
            There wasn’t much in there.  Some boxes. Fine. Someplace to sit. His face hurt though.
            Maurice heard a little noise. But he couldn’t see anything. It was just a tiny sound. He looked all over inside the boxcar. At last, he located the source of the tiny voice.
            “Mew,” it said. The source proved to be a small tabby kitten sitting between a couple of big cartons.
            He bent down to get a good look. He licked his chops and winced.  It still hurt. A lot.
            “Are you alright?” said the kitten. “I smell blood on you!”
            “Well, no, kitten. I busted my face slipping outside there,” said Maurice, kind of surprised.
            “I’m sorry,” said the kitten. “My name is Sleeky Sue. Who are you?”
            “Well, my mama called me Maurice, but most people don’t bother with my name. I’m the last of the Ozark Howlers. I only have one friend.”
            “Oh, hi Maurice. I suppose you must wonder what I am doing in here. I ran away from home because a big black car took my lady away and I didn’t want to go to the shelter Maurice.”
            “I was surprised to find you in here. Where are you going?” Maurice blinked and shook his head a couple of times. He couldn’t believe he was talking with a cat.
            “I don’t really know.  I just ran in here back in the city and then it started moving really fast.  I couldn’t get out, so here I am.  Where are you going Maurice?”
            “I’m going back home to Missouri. I got into trouble there a while back. So, I took off and tried to live around here, but it was worse than home. So, I figured I had nothing to lose by going back to where I was born,” said Maurice.
            “One of these boxes is full of cookies, but I can’t open it,” said Sleeky Sue. “Are you hungry? Mew?” She began purring furiously, hopefully. “I can’t get into the box, but I can sure smell the cookies.”
            “Well, let me try Sue.  Betcha no box can keep me out,” said Maurice. He thought the idea of some cookies sounded alright. And he proceeded to rip the one she indicated wide open with just his forepaws, since teeth were out of the question. Then they explored just what sort of cookies the carton contained. It was a grocery store assortment of packaged cookies and crackers, but you know, they liked them fine. Maurice had to tear the packets open too. Sleeky Sue was too little to do it.
            They had to lap water that leaked in through the doorway as the wind blew it in.
            “What will you do when you get to Missouri, Maurice? Do you still have a mama,” she asked.
            “I don’t know, kitten.  It feels like it’s time for a change.  Something new. Something I never thought of before. But if I never thought of it before, how can I think of it now? I’m tired. You know? I’m not a pup anymore. I get aches in the morning in my haunches! Aches! I’m tired of people screaming IF they see me. I’m tired of them hiding their kids and their pets just because I walk by. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I would like to be able to just pay for stuff. I’m tired of ripping people off. I’m just tired kitten.”
            “Have you thought of doing something that people would pay you for? My lady used to pay for everything we had. That’s what people do you know,” she said.
            “Everybody has to eat, Maurice. They pay money for food, it’s a sure thing,” she said.
            Then Sue got an idea, “I could come with you. Then you would have a friend to help you! I could do the little things, and you could do the big things!” She jumped up on a tall box so she could be near his ear and purred and purred. The sound was making him feel warm and sleepy.
            It never occurred to him to tell her “no.”
            When the rocking of the train rolling along finally put Maurice to sleep, she crept down to his shoulder and snuggled in to sleep herself, right underneath the Howler’s jaw.