Victor grunted, wiping his brow as he walked around the tracks. He'd gotten a job at the railroad. The money was….money. Hey it's what they needed. He thought on being a brakeman, there was a high turnover of those, but the hours meant he'd have to never be home.
"What you thinking of the job so far?" An older man, around 40, looked to him, "Think you'll be smarter than those others? And make it more than a year?"
He looked to him, "Like you clearly have?"
"Made it eighteen years. Seen that many or more men young like you die from dumb mistakes."
Victor smirked, "I may be a bit hard to kill," he took a bite into his sandwich, "But thanks for your concern."
"Names, Byron," he held a hand out to shake, "You are?"
"Victor," he shook, "eighteen years huh?"
"Yep, since 1890," he nodded, "What were you there? 3?"
"I was 5 thank you," he sipped his water, "What made you stay on so long?"
"You need to make income some way. I got me a wife and kids to take care of," he ate his own sandwich, "Moved up on the ladders since I got here."
He nodded. Honestly he didn't care but the guy wasn't bothering him. If anything he was mildly entertaining.
x
Logan crawled to the house. Today was great. He loved it, food.
"Victor?" he coughed, "Are you home?"
"I'm home," the older looked over from the seat in the kitchen, "You look like you had a great day."
"And you look like death, is there food?" he pushed himself up.
"Yeah, we have food. We have rabbit and corn," Victor was virtually asleep in the chair.
Logan pushed up and quickly started feasting, "This is the best meal you've ever cooked," he tore into the meat as if he was starving.
The elder narrowed his grey eyes at him and scoffed, rolling them away, "Whatever. I was only waiting for you to get home. I'm going to bed."
Logan slowed his eating down just enough to swallow and talk to his brother in a serious manner, "How have the nightmares been?"
"H3ll as normal, like most nightmares are, I would assume," he pulled a blanket to the ground and laid on it, "You take the bed, you work longer shifts than me."
"What are you doing?"
"You work longer hours than me so you should sleep more comfy," he curled up.
"Victor, you can tell me about your nightmares. It might help with your…"
"Just drop it, Jimmy," he grumbled, "And turn the light off when you're done eating."
The younger man shook his head and continued eating his food. Eventually he'd have to get his brother to open up.
He had on off wet the bed before. But normally only once or twice a year for the past two years. Now it's suddenly once or twice every few weeks. That probably wasn't a good sign.
"Just make sure you pee before you go to bed," he called over, "Even if you're on the floor it'll still be a mess for you to clean you know."
"Yeah yeah, I got it," he stood going to the outhouse. Not like he hadn't went before his brother got there.
x
Weeks went by with them both having their jobs. Little by little they were making some form of money. They both finally had a minute to have breakfast together for the first time in over a month.
"Hey Jimmy," Vic looked over, "I've been thinking."
"That sounds dangerous," the younger commented, eating his corn meal.
"Exceptionally," he leaned over the table, "What do you think of us going to America?"
"Why would we go there?"
"Maybe for a better place?" He suggested, "Better money? Isn't it the land of opportunities?"
Logan raised a brow to him, "I guess. What made you decide America?"
"Overseas don't have money, that's why they're going. We get to travel and something better. Isn't that what you want?"
"Yeah I'd love something better," he scoffed, "Busting my ss all day isn't fun."
"Byron's nephew sent him a letter saying the pay is better. And they have more jobs. And even if it's not true we can start somewhere fresh."
"All sounds good," Logan smirked, "Surprised you thought of it."
"I have my moments," he smirked victoriously.
"When are we thinking of going?"
"Soon as we save some money."
"Well, you've been able to keep the bed dry so we've saved plenty in soap," Jimmy teased.
"You're so funny," he rammed the spoon into his mouth.
X
"How's it going?" Byron looked to Victor, "Working hard?"
"A little," he sipped the water, "Thinking about moving soon. Me and Jimmy."
"Really?"
"America. Seems nice."
The older man gave him a look, "The grass is always greener on the other side. Just remember that."