Chapter 2: A Ticket to Somewhere
"We'll be landing shortly sir." The polite said. Thank God! This plane ride had been one of the bumpiest Arthur had experienced in the longest time, and he traveled internationally constantly!
During the miserably flight he had taken the time to study the notes and evidence he had been given through Alfred's two months worth of letters. Like they had said, the last they had heard he was some where in Illinois near the Kentucky border. Arthur's first stop was one, "Chuck's gas station and burgers" where Alfred had purchased the postcard… At least he had not lost his appetite.
The plane landed and Arthur shouldered his duffel bag, which he had traded for his suitcase back at the Whitehouse. This would make carrying his things much more manageable. He set his derby hat on his head and got off onto the tarmac. "Are you sure you will be alright sir?" the pilot asked, "Should I call some one?"
Arthur merely grinned squinting his eyes to look at him over the horrible glair. "Nonsense lad. I thoroughly enjoy a good hunt. Where would the fun be if I didn't have to work my way through things?" He then tipped his hat, "Thank you for your services good luck to you lad."
"And to you sir." The young pilot saluted as Arthur walked out of sight. Arthur caught a cab to the meager gas station not far from the small airport where he had been dropped off near the border of Kentucky. He paid the driver with the small amount of money the President had been able to offer him, then turned to the small rusty gas station and diner… Yep, this was the place all right! Certainly smelled like it at least. Arthur sighed shaking his head as he pushed the door open and stepped into the air conditioned tin building; only America would find the scent of motor oil and a deep fat fryer appealing. He stepped in, removing his hat automatically and looked around. There was a small dinner attached to the gas station where a small hand full of people sat at booths having a snack. He could hear the sound of the fryer in the background, the barking of orders, and the gentle thrum of the wobbly ceiling fans above his head. There was also the soft drowned melody of jazzy songs that encompassed the whole building like a soft summer breeze. He stood next to several aisle ways of assorted snacks and other odd ecliptic assortments of needs. Everything from bleach to flash lights to sunflower seeds to the icebox in the far back corner filled of beer and sodas.
Just to the right of him was a small rack of post cards, which he immediately inspected. He found Alfred's card's match and looked at it. It had a black and white photograph of the gas station and a view of the highway beyond. "They're 2 cents a pop doc. 6 cents if you want us to mail'em." A voice called to him. Arthur looked up to his addresser; a man in a dingy shirt who stood behind the cash register of the gas station. Arthur smiled politely and put the card back in its display, and pocketed Alfred's card. "I don't intend to buy one, but I was actually hoping you could help me sir." He said walking up to the counter. "I'm looking for someone."
The man cocked an eyebrow at Arthur fiddling with the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "You and everyone else in the world stranger." He smiled. "I can't offer ya much but I'll do what I can. Now, what's her name and how'd she break your heart?" the man asked with a toothy sarcastic grin leaning lazily on the counter. Arthur sighed contemptuously and calmly pulled a photograph from his waist coat pocket. "I'm not looking for anyone of that sort, I'm looking for my," he paused to try and find an appropriate word. "Brother." He said quickly and handed the man a small Polaroid of Alfred he had… Not the best picture in the world, but it was the only up to date one he had of the tenacious country. In the faded sepia picture Alfred was standing in his yard in a loose shirt, suspenders, and knickers, which bunched up, at his bare feet. He was holding a baseball bat like he was ready to swing it, with that stupid cocky grin on his face.
"His name is Alfred Jones. I believe he passed through here a few weeks ago, and bought one of your post cards. Do you remember him?" he asked holding his breath knowing that this man could barley remember what he ate for breakfast much less whether or not Alfred was here or not.
The man examined the picture and scrunched his face. He sighed and shook his head. "Sorry mister, we get so many rovers that come through here, whether from hopping the rails or the bus or even by foot, its hard to keep track of'em." Arthur sighed disappointedly, "Well thank you any way sir for-" he began but a woman who came over behind the counter for a moment looked over the cashier's shoulder and cut in. "I remember him." she said pointing to the picture smacking on her chewing gum. She looked like one of the waitresses from the small diner. Arthur's eyes lit up. "You do Bess?" the cashier asked craning his neck over his shoulder to look at her. "Sure I do, I never forget a face," she looked to Arthur, "You looking for him?"
"Yes he's my brother." Arthur said. "I remember him. Very nice fellow, tall, young, glasses had a funny cowlick on his head," she described twisting her finger above her head representing Alfred's Nantucket. Arthur chuckled. "Aye, that's him. Did he have an obnoxious laugh and veracious appetite?" he smiled trying to add to her references and description. The woman paused and put a hand to her chin in thought. "I never heard him laugh. He seemed a real friendly sort, but he didn't laugh that I can remember. He looked kinda worn out like he'd been traveling hard for a while." The lady then sighed shaking her head, "Poor boy, he looked like he'd been living out of a card board box for days." She said. This news made Arthur concerned, but he said nothing as she went on, "He offered to help some one start their car and got the old thing going."
"Oh yes now I remember that kid. Real strong fella, built like a tank but tall, blonde hair, four eyes, shabby clothes… Yeh I remember him." The cashier perked up. Arthur felt himself glair at the words "four eyes" and immediately corrected his composure. "He helped us out a lot that day, fixin' the AC, and the fryer in the back, along with the car he helped some family push in." the cashier continued. "Such a nice young man." The woman went on. "Was he alright?" Arthur felt himself immediately ask. "A bit range worn, dirty, and tired. But he didn't look any worse for ware. He just looked tired. I offered to fix him something for his troubles, but all he wanted was a postcard in exchange for what he did. To be honest, I'd have given him both, but he said to save it for someone else who needed to be fed."
Arthur's eyes widened in shock; Alfred refuse food?! And a cheeseburger even!? This was unheard of! My God he must be ill!
"Did he say where he was going? Please I must find him." Arthur insisted. "Well, he was trying to get to Kentucky, so I gave him a bus ticket and a lunch for his troubles, despite his objections. It was the least we could do after all he did." The woman said. "Mailed his post card too… Kind of an of an odd ball… Wanted us to mail it to the Whitehouse can you believe it." The cashier laughed. "But this summer heat will get to anyone." his cigarette falling from his mouth. Again Arthur felt himself glair at the man, but he said nothing. "I don't suppose he said anything more did he?" he inquired further. The woman shook her head. "No I'm afraid not, but," she reached over the counter and grabbed a bus ticket from its roll. "If you catch the next bus it should take you all the way to Kentucky." She said handing him the ticket.
Arthur smiled grateful. "Thank you mam." he said paying her for the ticket fishing a bit of change from his pocket. "You better get on out there, that bus'll be here any minute now." The cashier advised. "Thank you both again." And he walked outside into the late July summer heat. He sat down on the curb resting his duffel bag next to him with a sigh. "Christ, it sure is hot out here. God Alfred why does your home have to be so bloody hot!" he grumbled puling out his black umbrella pushing it open absent mindedly to block the sun.
"Give it about 5 minutes stranger, an' it'll change on ya." A high-pitched scruffy voice rattled next to him. Arthur startled flinching as he whipped his head to the person beside him. "Hehehe, once the skies open up out here, there's no stopping it. You'll be using that umbrella for a boat. Hehehe!" an old doubled over man laughed from behind his fluffy white beard. Arthur sighed and smiled as he regained himself from being startled. "Forgive me if I don't believe you." He chuckled grinning. Arthur knew how much rain America's home got, and while yes it could get a lot, it was nothing compared to his home.
"Yes well you have every reason not to sonny." The old tiny codger said, his squinted eyes smiling from under his disheveled straw hat. "Ever since that dust bowl came-a rollin in out west, things have been hotter than ever. Harder too."
"Forgive me sir, but I'm not from around here. Would you explain more to me what this dust bowl is?" Arthur asked, hoping to get some inside information on what was going on as apposed to what papers and officials told him. "Sure thing stranger." The old man said, his voice turning somber as he spoke. "In short, it's a drought. Due to all the dust out there, the wind kicks up some serious storms of nothing but dust, burying homes and farmlands in a matter of days… Folks out there can't afford to keep their homes or their farms anymore, cause the crops no good so they come by rail to either California or places like here to try and find work… Times are getting hard, for everyone. The whole world feels like it's turning to dust." The old man said.
Arthur smiled warmly and patted the old man's shoulder. "Don't worry sir, I assure you its not." He said then offered the man to share his umbrella with him. "Why thank you kindly sonny. Its people like you and your brother that make these hard times hopeful." Arthur froze. "My? You mean Alfred? You've seen him? How did you?" he began. The old man cackled again. "I may be getting old, and I may be as blind as a bat, but my hearin' is better than most folks. I couldn't help but over hear your conversation. Yes I knew your brother. Alfred you said his name was?"
"Yes sir. Can you tell me where he went?" Arthur asked leaning closer with anticipation. The old man pointed down the winding road off in the distance. "Ta Kentucky. When I asked him what was in Kentucky that needed getting to he said, he'd find out when he got there. Awful determined young man. Generous too, gave me this shirt of his, cause mine was wearing out on account of the fact I sit out here day after day." Arthur inspected the shirt, and noticed a faded star stitched on the left hand pocket. "Why don't you ride the bus sir? Surly it would be better than sitting out here in the hot sun all day." Arthur said. "Ain't got any money," the old man answered simply with a smile. "Well here, you can have my ticket and I…" Arthur started to reach for his pocket but the old man caught his hand. "Nope, now you keep your money sonny and your ticket too. You need both if you're going to find your brother." The old man said. "But,"
"Now, now. I got no where's to go. When I feel like going some where I'll go." The old man pulled out an old faded ticket. "But right now, I'd rather sit here and watch the world pass by. I've seen all I want to in this life, and I've learned enough too. And I keep learning just by sitting here. But you, you and your brother, you both are still young and have a lot you can learn. Who knows," the old man looked to Arthur and smiled. "You may change the world."
To this Arthur laughed. "You might be right sir. Eh heh heh!" He had in fact helped change the world on many occasions, and watched it grow and shrink all at the same time.
Soon the bus pulled up opening its painted metal doors welcoming anyone who wished to make the journey. Arthur stood up refolding his umbrella and gathering his duffel bag. He turned back to the old man. "Are you sure you won't come?" he asked. The old man smiled and waved. "I'll be fine here sonny. Besides I like to think I do some good, to those waiting for the bus… I like the conversation. I enjoyed ours as well." He answered. Arthur smiled and nodded. "Best of luck to you sir." And he stepped onto the bus. "And best of luck finding your brother sonny!" the old codger called, as Arthur found a seat and poked his head out the window, and the buss started forward. "And when you find him, tell him thank you for me. Good luck to you both!" the old man waved. "I shall! Good bye!" Arthur waved as the bus rolled away in a cloud of dust out of sight. The old man sighed and watched it disappear beyond the horizon. "Good luck to you… England…"