Finn felt a hand roughly shaking her from her slumber. For a moment she was confused at this new source of alarm clock but soon felt the rocking of the moving train and remembered her mothers ring was at least 100 miles away by now.
"Finn, wake up!"
The hand shook her again.
She slowly opened her eyes and turned over so that she could see her disturbers face.
It was Skittery. He had bags under his eyes and was looking was hungary.
"C'mon," he said casually, helping Finn to her feet and letting the light blanket drop to the floor next to the cot.
Finn had changed into her nightclothes before she had gone to bed the night before, though now, as dawn began to break she regretted doing so.
The boxcar was windy and the wood at her feet was chilled with a small layer of January snow. Finn rubbed her arms, trying to make the goose bumps disappear.
"The boys already left to get some grub but I volunteered to stay, it gave me time to paint.
"You like to paint?" Finn asked, catching up to his brisk walk
"Yeah, can't get enough of it. Its hard to find time or room, living with four other boys so I figured this would be a good opportunity" he said, handing Finn her day clothes and looking away.
Judging by his strong accent, Finn guessed he had family in New York and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it the night before.
She slipped on her trousers and pulled her shirt over her head.
"Well, I like to read…"
"So Ive heard." Skittery interrupted looking away as she changed.
"Yes, and I have read a lot about painters."
"So'v I," Skittery said softly, finally turning around as Finn tied up her last shoe.
"You know, the Liberated Artists Union is giving money to painters to make work. Theyre is giving it to writers as well and that's why I have heard of it."
She stood up and Skittery looked at her almost exasperated
"And what's ya point?"
"Why are you here if the money is out there?" Skittery looked out the partially opened doorway of the car
"Same reasons you are." His voice was casual.
Finn touched her cheek where her scar was and Skittery nodded, removing his overcoat, pulling down his suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal numerous scratches and lashes on his back.
Finn winced and pulled up her pants leg to uncover the scars on her thigh.
After slipping on his shirt and jacket once more, Skittery looked out the doorway window, deep in thought.
"Do the others know?" Finn asked generally, breaking the silence.
"Ive woiked hard to keep mine secret. I know that Cowboy knows about yours though."
"And how do you know he does?" Finn asked mischievously.
"Well, ya wouldn't be here if he didn't…" his voice trailed off "Finn, do ya notice any difference in me n' the guys and the other rail riders n' hobos?"
Finn shook her head no, she had not come across many hobos in her life and the few times she had, they were old geezers who had long white beards; not young, sociable boys.
"Ya see usually hobos either ride the rails until they find work or a good place ta live. They hop a couple trains; make some bread in one town and try ta hold out a job for at least a month. But Cowboy, Mush, Blink and I… we're a different breed of hobos."
Skittery slowly leaned back against the wall, trying to word his next sentence
"We're runnin' away from someth besides the economy. Cowboy asked you to come with him on the train because he knew that you were part of this special breed, even if you did not realize it."
Skittery slowly sat down against the wall and Finn sat next to him
"Maybe Cowboy could feel it from ya stance or maybe he saw the way your hand shook when men came close, I dunno. I my self could tell from experience. "
"What about every one else? They all look pretty emotionally stable to me."
Skittery turned to look out the window as if he had just noticed the train they were on was still moving forward.
"We can always meet up with them in New York." He muttered quietly to him self before speaking to Finn
"Well, Blink's mutha' died and left him with his step sisters to take care of. I don't believe he ever had a pop; maybe died before he was born. His step fatha' was a drunkard, wandered off sometime bout ten years ago, never came back."
Wit's strong New York accent grew clearer and clearer as he talked to Finn and again she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.
"Cowboy found him 3 years back, nearly starving at a junkyard.
" Mush's, I think had just gotten out of the slammer when he and Cowboy first met. Maybe he was in there for riding the rails or just takin' a courtesy call... I dunno since it was before they foun' me, two years ago or three.
" Cowboy probably had it the worst. He was kicked out of his house when he joined the Dead End Kids, local gang of youngins. Cowboy was ten when this happened and he went to stay with his grandmother. He went back to his house one day to see if his parents would take him back. His father bruised him up pretty bad when he saw his face, talked bout havin' ta pay neighbors ta keep them off his back. Cowboy ended up in the hospital; broken jaw and leg. Cowboy once told me dat his face was so smashed up; you couldn't even tell who was behind the blood and scars. Ribs bruised maybe but again I don't really know da details. Got better eventually and by his 12th the birthday he was back on the streets. Been on the streets ever since. Recruited Blink, Mush and me.
"We've had woik every now and again. Been newsies for the last couple of years but we finally came back to the rails a few months ago. "
Finn smiled though she still wasn't satisfied.
"And what about you, where's your family?"
Skittery leaned his head back against the wall
"Dat would be an awfully long conversation." She nodded for him to go on; that she didn't mind the longevity.
He closed his eyes as if summoning the images of his past into words
"My family was in New York City but I don't think theyre still there. The scars are years old, from when I left my family. My old man got pretty angry when my brother and I announced our departure; we had had enough of his violence and rules. Sliced us up something bad with his belt though he knew he couldn't keep us from going; our mutha' was on our side and she din' even know about the abuse."
Finn was surprised at how similar their situations were.
"So, we left, stowed away on the back of a farm truck next ta bunch of sheep. Two months later I found my self on a train some where in Kansas, cold, starving, lonely and too drunk to know where the train was going; as depressed and hurt as I had been in New York."
He looked out the crack in the wooden door once more.
Finn had been right the night before in saying that the Canada bound was a cult. Although this cult was not like ones she had heard about. They were not hypnotists and people could come and go as they pleased, though no body would want to stay unless they were meant to be part of the group.
No joyful person would want to stay around these deprived boys. Only people who were deprived as well could bare the depression in their stories and Finn assumed that Cowboy considered her one of these deprived people.
"Wait, so where is your brother?" she asked just remembering the gap in his story.
Skittery pointed his finger subtly upwards towards the 'skylight', almost embarrassed in mimicking Cowboy gesture from the night before.
Finn nodded solemnly.
"His foot got caught on da couplers last month; the train pulled him under da wheels."
She gave him sorry glance before he went on, his accent a little less visible as he lowered the volume of his voice even more
"They don't usually talk ta him out loud. Every once and a while they do, when they see somethin' he would have liked. Its spontaneous, they jus all of a sudden start talkin' to da air. Sometimes I wonder if they really know that they are talking out loud or if its like sleepwalking and it feels internal. I talk ta him in me head and I know it's in my head because he actually talks back."
"My older brother died as well." Finn said quietly.
She regretted bringing up the subject of her own family though she could not resist the urge to let him know she understood what it was like to lose someone you can relate to.
"No one talks about his death, my mom pretends that he joined the army and is out there helping our country. My dad just doesn't talk about it. It's a subject no one brings up. My siblings… they all believe my father killed him, bashed him in the head with a shovel and then threw his body in a ditch where the cops found him. You see, he used to have scratches and scars too, so the police figured he was a depressed child who had committed suicide but we all know that's not at all true. Of course he was depressed but not to such an extent. After my brother died, my father moved on to me."
Finn could tell that Skittery felt a connection for he inched closer to her.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly.
"I shouldn't be complaining, I mean I'm pretty much safe and in a care free environment."
Skittery slowly slipped his hand in her grasp and she softly cradled it.
His hands were calloused and hard. Dirt covered his fingers and black grease from the train was layered on his palm. It did not disgust Finn though, she was used to dirt.
"Hey we better get going, we wouldn't want dem ta leave New York with out us."
Finn nodded. She looked around the car and realized that certain things were missing. Three of the cots were gone as well as the 'drunkard station' and its contents. The majority of the pillows and blankets were gone as well.
Skittery seeing her confusion said shortly
"They took most of da things but we's gotta carry our part as well."
"Wait we are getting off? Why cant they just hop on this train when we arrive at the station?"
"Well we gotta eat don't we?" she took a breath
"So your saying that the Canada bound # 2 car is not the same car, its switched for a different one every day?"
He smiled impishly as he started to fold the blankets in to a neat pile.
Finn had not planned on having to hop cars often. She had figured that they would stay in the same car and maybe get off every two months to restock their food supplies and even then she herself would not get off.
Now more then ever, after hearing the tragic tale of specs, she did not want to go close to the catwalk. Especially Mary, the person whose most dangerous feat was riding a horse bareback.
How could she possibly jump on to a moving train safely when experienced riders, such as Skittery's brother, had killed them selves trying to do just the same.
Finn tried to calm her nerves down by flipping througha stack of papers at her feet.
As she went through the papers, she discovered that the majority of the documents were tickets and fines, made out by bulls.
She told Skittery of her discovery and he smiled.
"Not havin' a job o' home does set ya back quite a bit financially. We'll get around ta paying them eventually though… maybe in the next 20 years or … 30?" he said shrugging before telling her throw them out the car door.
Finn threw out the fines, desperately wanting to inform Skittery of the trouble he might face for not paying them, though she did not want to be the know-it-all who spoils every ones fun.
"We have to get off before the train stops or we'll get caught when da bulls search the cars for bums. They don't usually have the balls ta walk the trains while there're moving, though that only means that they are even more thorough in their check when the train stops."
Finn hugged her rolled bindle close to her body, trying to force all of her nerves into its flat matter. Skittery stuck his head somewhat out the partially opened door to see where they were in comparison to the station.
The scenery outside there car began to change from lushes, snow covered fields and quiet paths to gray trees and empty roads as if the depression that hung so greatly over New York was effecting the nature as well.
Skittery sat down once more and Finn did the same, assuming that they were not as close as Skittery had thought. The boxcar was silent and Skittery opened the door a little more so that his body could fit through if necessary.
Finn was surprised at his lack of caution while the train was in motion. Seeing that his brother had just passed away from a related accident she had figured he would not want to suffer the same fate.
"Do you have any pictures of him?" Finn asked politely, curious for his answer yet also wanting to fill up the silence.
"I've got one that I drew, its too good but it should give ya an idea of what he looked like."
He rummaged through a stack of painting to his right. All the paintings were painted on wood and as Finn looked around she noticed a couple boards missing in random crates and barrels around the car.
He found the one he was looking for and repositioned him self so that he was sitting closer to her, his presence hanging over her right shoulder.
"This was from 8 months ago though his look din' change much."
The drawing was beautiful though it was mostly charcoal based.
Skittery brother looked very much like Skittery him self in that he had brown shaggy hair and high cheekbones. He looked more mature or maybe the coloring gave her that impression.
"He was handsome wasn't he," Finn stated looking the painting up and down in admiration
"I wouldn't be able to tell you, but back in school, lot of girls fancied him." Finn smiled
"You two look a lot alike,"
He smiled as well and looked up at her, their eyes interlocking
"I suppose I should take that as a compliment." Skittery face was dirty and his hair needed to be washed and cut desperately.
She broadened her smile to show that it was a compliment with out having to actually say the words.
"Hey, why do they call you Skittery any way?" she said suddenly finding the situation awkward
"Because I get ne...ne...nervois a lot" he stuttered jokingly. " Really I'm not quite sure. At da time of my namin', Cowboy listed, along with Skittery, nerve, bummer, angst. In reality, I am just more responsible then these other dopes. I gots street smarts. In fact before you came along I was much smarter then any of those bastards, now I guess I'm da second smartest."
"But I'm not named Skittery am I? You have to have the name so play the game. Besides I like to swim more then do…smart… people … hobbies."
"I know a place we can swim once we find da guys. It's a hole filled wid grimy water but don't worry it wont affect ya health."
Finn smiled gratefully, placing the painting back on to the pile of wood where Skittery had picked it up.
"Are we taking them with us?" she asked pointing to the stack.
"Nah, never do." Skittery looked out the door again and jumped up off the ground, quickly picking up his bindle.
Finn did the same assuming that they were in New York.
She stole a glance out the door and saw the station slowly coming into view. It was a big station, with aluminum signs and a red wood platform. In all it was more elegant and sophisticated then the run down station in Martha's Vineyard though it also looked deprived financially judging by the lack of people waiting on the platform.
"Ok, I want you to follow me and sit down right at the edge of the of the door way. When I say jump we will both jump off and run, head straight for the doors" Skittery said pointing at a set of doors that were slowly coming into view.
Finn nodded and slowly inched her way to the edge of the door. The train lurched back and forth as it began to halt.
"Jump!" Skittery shouted aggressively, pushing himself off the floor of the car with his hands.
Finn did the same, falling on to her stomach and running to the door, hugging her bindle to her body.
"You're a natural," Skittery said appraisingly as he brushed the dirt off his own jacket.
She smiled "next train trick to master: getting on." Skittery laughed, opening the double doors for her entrance.
