Nathan's Writings

Tom and Putty, All rights reserved by Nathan Gibson 12/13/16

A cool draft from the window next to his bed bit at Tom’s exposed nose, discomforting him just enough to rouse him from his slumber. He kept his eyes closed but could tell it was nearly 10 am. The noise would yank him completely awake any second now.

SCHREEECCCHH.

There it was. Metal on metal, twisting itself into the God-awful noise he had grown accustomed to over the past year of living right next to train tracks. He didn’t dislike the location, even though it meant sleeping in past 10 was nearly impossible. The entire house shook slightly as the engine drove on its way, eventually passing Tom’s house moving on towards wherever it was destined to end up.

Tom lay in bed for a few more minutes enjoying his last few minutes of undisturbed peace.  Finally he rubbed at his eyes and stretched his arms out, knocking out the stiffness from the night before. He opened his eyes slowly. Today was the day he thought.

Light seeped in through the blinds stinging his eyes at first. The warmth of his bed drifted away and he noticed it was too cold to remain exposed to the room’s air for long. With a heave he stood and headed to the bathroom. Turning the handle to as hot as it would get, he steamed up the bathroom mirror as he showered. Stepping out slowly onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor, he grabbed his towel and dried himself. Wrapping his lower half he stepped back into the chilling air of his bedroom. He found a clean pair of underwear and slid them on, dropping his towel to the floor. Usually he would’ve taken it to the dirty clothes, but not today.  Blue jeans hung neatly in his closet and he put on the first pair he could reach. He found a T-shirt, a simple white cloth shirt with no writing on it, and yanked it over his torso.

After completing his dressing process with a pair of socks and undistinguishable brown boots, he packed up a backpack that he had found in his closet. Filling it with a few essential items he left space for the food he had planned to take with him. Finished collecting the items he needed from his bedroom, he made his way into the kitchen of his one floor apartment. There wasn’t much to it, a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and small living room, but it was enough space for him and that was all he had needed.

He poured himself a bowl of cereal and picked at it long enough to eat about half the bowl. He had the Saturday paper sitting outside his door but he didn’t care enough to read what was inside it. “Only bad news and lies from the rich” his father had always said.

He sat at the table staring into the bowl of cereal for a moment. Back and forth the pieces of corn flakes moved, lulling Tom into a hypnotized comatose.  His eyes lowered but did not blink for a long while. He had planned this day for months, and while he welcomed it with open arms, he honestly never thought it would come. Something like a carrot hung in front of a horse just out of its reach. Always existent but never reachable. He’d thought of it as an idea never a reality, even while taking the necessary steps to reach it.

Suddenly a knock at the door pulled Tom out of his thoughts. He stood up from the table, leaving the cereal where it sat. Realizing he had forgotten to pack the food he had bought the night before he grabbed the bags that were siting on the counter and threw them into his backpack. He composed himself and smiled slightly with one side of his mouth. He walked towards the door and twisted the knob. Outside stood a strange collection of 15 or so people ranging from young to old. Some appeared homeless, others slightly more put together. As eclectic a group as could be assembled in Owensboro, Kentucky.  

The man closest to Tom spoke up. “This the apartment sale? The ad said knock and come in.”

Tom nodded and took a deep breath. No turning back after this. “This is it,” he said as he prepared himself. “Everything’s for sale. Everything’s for free. Have at it.”

Tom stepped through the threshold of the door, slicing through the cluster of people. He felt their confusion and gaping expressions as he passed through them. They murmured to one another for a moment but slowly he realized he had been completely serious. They sprang into action and took to the apartment like hyenas. Tom kept his back turned to the carnage he was sure was ensuing behind him, heading down the stairs to the parking lot of the apartment. He walked confidently, with a bounce in his step. Both shocked and proud of what he had just done, he knew that he was committed now. All his worldly possessions, everything he owned was being rummaged through by complete strangers. Almost everything that is. The bizarre idea both terrified and thrilled him.

The brisk pace he had adopted after leaving his apartment finally caught the attention of Tom. His legs ached slightly and he stopped himself momentarily. Gathering himself and finding his surroundings, he began to figure out the best way to execute the next step of his plan. He looked around him and found a fence about twice the height of himself. He walked towards it estimating how to best climb over it. Through a clumsy attempt and pure upper body strength he was able to hoist himself over the fence and fall to the other side.

Tom looked around to make sure no one had noticed his trespass. Feeling confident he had gone unnoticed, he began to feel a wave of confidence. His plan hadn’t fallen apart at the seams like he had been so terrified it would. Cutting through into a patch of unkempt bushes, he pushed on towards his goal. Suddenly something caught the attention of his ear and made the hair on his neck stand up.

SCHREEECCCHH.

Looking to his right a mere hundred yards he could see the train engine rushing towards him. He moved forward slightly waiting for his moment. As the train plowed closer he moved towards the tracks, never leaving the cover of the bushes. He could tell the train went on a long ways so he didn’t feel the need to be too close.

Finally the train passed in front of him. The screech reached new heights of deafening as it passed Tom. Sparks flew from the wheels as they turned feverishly, grinding against the metal of the tracks. Dust kicked up from around the wheels, spraying towards the bushes Tom remained hidden in. Cars passed Tom at a speed too fast fro him to be able to make out the words that were tagged on their sides in graffiti. Tattoos inked on the train as a mark of remembrance left by the artists who had made them. With each car that passed Tom grew wearier about his ability to follow through with the plan. His stomach grew weak and he could feel his legs shaking. Just as he felt himself giving in, something within him took over. He sprinted out of the bushes and ran towards the train. An open door was a few cars down from him and he aimed to jump into it. As he ran the screech faded into the background and all he could hear was his heart beat. Faster and faster it pounded, drowning out all the noise from the train. 20 feet to the train now.

His heart thumped faster and faster. He had never heard anything like it. Like a drummer on African bongos reaching the climax of his show. His feet moved completely on their own, one foot in front of the other. He didn’t stumble or trip like he would have expected. 10 feet now.

Here we go he thought to himself. He was leaving it all behind. The monotony, the pain, the pointlessness. He didn’t know where he was going or why, all he knew was that he was going. Nothing would be the same after this. 5 feet. The open door was right in front of him now. He jumped.

Hitting the train’s floor with a great thud, he passed through the open door and landed on the cool steel. His face rammed into the floor leaving him cringing in pain. For a moment he wasn’t actually sure if he had made or just jumped into the side of the train. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t tell exactly where he was. Shaking off the pain and confusion he realized he had made it onto the car he had been aiming for. A feeling of accomplishment overcame him and he jumped to his feet. He ran to the edge of the car and hung to handle to keep his balance. The cold autumn wind whipped against his face as he saw all of his prior memories flying by him in a matter of seconds. The neighborhood he had grown up in. The local eatery he had frequented every Sunday. The high school football field he had lost his virginity on.

Suddenly without warning the train passed through a tunnel and the visions were ripped away from. A feeling of brief claustrophobia overcame Tom and he pulled his head back away from the wall. The car had gone nearly dark, the only lights in the tunnel emitting an eerie orange color. Hoping this wouldn’t last much longer Tom thought about what he was leaving behind. After a quick thought the conclusion he came to could only be one thing: Nothing.

Just as he went to sit down away from the edge of the cart, light burst back into Tom’s vision. The tunnel ended and was left behind, making way for sprawling fields of horse pastures and open land. Sunlight draped over the fields and drizzled into the train cart, covering Tom with a warmth he had been unknowingly desiring.

Excitement brewed up inside Tom’s chest and he hung his head out of the car. Wind whipped his thin sandy brown hair back and his mouth widened into a great smile. For the first time in awhile he felt overjoyed. With a great howl of excitement he screamed at the top of his lungs, filling the country air with excitement and pure ecstatic pleasure.

After a moment of pure adrenaline filled brilliance, Tom moved away from the edge. He sat against the other side of the car, propping his back against its wall. He watch out the door as the hills and fields rolled past him. For hours he watched. Countryside rolled into cityscapes. Ghettos rolled into suburban streets. Nothing was too dull to be observed. The sun began to set before Tom had even noticed the time pass him by.

As darkness approached Tom began to feel his eyes growing heavy.  His stomach growled but he decided he didn’t feel like eating anything tonight. He unzipped the backpack and rummaged through it till he had found the blanket he had packed for the trip. Settling against the cool wall of the train he realized his back was hurting and wished he would’ve packed a pillow. Putting the thought out of his head he began to search through the backpack again. Digging his hands through the black abyss blindly, his fingers finally felt the cool chain he had been searching for. He wrapped his hand around it and pulled it out. The gold pocket watch his father had given him ticked quietly in his hand. He ran his finger over the engraving on the back of it. His father’s favorite saying “Power is never free, but freedom is power”. He read it a few times to himself silently then tucked it away in his jean pocket. He closed his eyes to try to sleep. Drifting away from reality he realized to his startled excitement that he had no idea where this train was heading. Deciding he liked it that way, he allowed sleep to overcome him, sweeping him away into a deep slumber.

SCREEECCCHH.

Tom awoke suddenly when a larger than usual bump rocked him hard enough to bang his head against the car wall. He cursed and grabbed the back of his head. His eyes stayed closed as he massaged the back of his head to rub the pain away. Light was coming in through the door so he knew he must have slept for a decent period of time. He still felt slightly tired and he began to contemplate the idea of going back to sleep. Suddenly a voice came from the corner opposite him.

“Morning stranger! Quite the bump you’re gonna have on that head of yours isn’t it? Must’ve felt pretty terrible.”

Tom jerked awake and moved his head towards the voice. His hands flew up defensively and the voice laughed.

“Now don’t ya think that if I was gonna do somethin’ to ya I would’ve done it while you were sleeping?”

Tom backed himself away from the voice and into the corner opposite of it. He couldn’t see who was speaking but he could tell it was a man. The gravely rasp in his voice suggested age and this pleased Tom. Surely he could fight off an old man if it came down to it.

“Ya got lucky last night son. Guards didn’t do much of a check at the stop station. Otherwise you’d have found yourself in a lot more pain than that bump right about now.”

“What are you talking about”?” asked Tom. He wasn’t sure why he was responding to the voice or why he hadn’t jumped off the train entirely, but something kept him there.

“These trains have to stop every so often to drop cars off and pick new ones up. When they stop the guards go round searchin’ for anyone like you and myself tryin’ to hitch a ride. Happened to me back in ’94. Nasty fellas those guards. Not so gentle either. Came out of it lookin’ like a bruised tomato.”

Tom listened intently making sure the voice stayed in the same place the entire time. Surprised by his good fortune and relieved to have gotten through the night safely he replied to the voice once again.

“Move forward,” he commanded, “I can’t see you.”

“Yessir,” the voice chuckled.

With a slow rises the shadowy figure that Tom had been beginning to make out stood up. He was a tall man with narrow shoulders. Tom realized that while he hadn’t been pleased being unable to see the man, he was now terrified that the shadowy figure was moving. It moved forward and panic gripped Tom. He froze as the figure moved into the sunlight and extended his hand.

Through a grin extending across his entire face the wrinkled old man introduced himself, “Name’s SillyPutty, but most people call me Putty.”

Tom didn’t move for a full five seconds. He stared at the man standing in front of him, taking the whole thing in. Like he had thought the man was old, at least 65 or 70. Wrinkles had begun to drag his face towards the Earth and his skin appeared coarse and worn like leather. He had most of his teeth to Tom’s surprise, and seemed like he was in good health for the most part. He was skinny but not malnourished. His green eyes had a slightly crazy look to them, but not in a bad way. His face was covered in dirt and his small beard had bits of different things caught in it. Above his mouth a mustache curled up into two perfect handlebars. He worse a thick brown coat covered in dirt and oil. On the sides of the coat were pockets plenty enough to carry anything he wanted Tom thought. His pants were dirty faded jeans covered in stains.

Finally realizing the man’s pruned hand was nearly hitting him in the face, Tom grabbed the old mans hand and shook it slowly. The man’s skin was rough and hard, worn by years.

“Tom,” he replied to the old man with a slight nod. The old man nodded and returned to his seat.

Having been to terrified to notice anything but the man in the corner prior to this moment, Tom had not noticed that the old man was sitting on a very small tree stump. As he returned to the stump he slid it closer to Tom so that he remained in the light.

“Who are you?” Tom asked.

“Well I’m SIllyPutty but you can call me Putty,” the old man reiterated.

Tom shook his head. “No that’s not what I meant. Why are you here? Where did you come from? ”

Putty spoke again, “I believe I could just as easily ask you all those same questions. In all honesty I believe I’m less out of place at the moment than you are. But I am here for the same reason that you are. Because I can be. I come from a rich suburb in Texas originally. Moved away after college and became the man that you see before you now.”

Tom thought for a moment. This man was college educated and came from a rich suburb one of the biggest states in America. How did he end up here?

As if he had read his mind Putty piped up, “All in due time my friend. Now Mr. Tom, may I ask you why you are here and where you came from?”

Tom thought for a moment. He didn’t really know how to answer. Of course he knew where he had come from but why was he here?

Finally he spoke, “Freedom. I’m here for freedom. And I’m from Owensboro, Kentucky.” He didn’t know what he wanted to be free of but that was the best answer he could come up with.

Putty laughed, “Had some great adventures in Kentucky, beautiful state.”

For a moment they sat in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence though, just a time to study one another and take in the surroundings around them. Tom watched through the car door as a background of unimpressive trees passed by him. Time passed by quickly and Tom honestly did not know how long it had been. He also realized he had no idea where he was. He looked at Putty.

“Do you know where this train is going?” he asked.

Putty looked at him quizzically. “You got on a train without knowing where it was headed?” he laughed heartily. “Takes me back to my first couple of rides. Let me tell ya the mystery is half the fun. Yeah I know where this train is going but I’m not gonna tell ya. Ill only say it’s headed west.”

Tom was satisfied with this answer, as he had actually grown fond of not knowing exactly where he was going.

With this the two men did not speak again for the rest of the day. Tom watched out the car door similar to the way he had done the day before. Putty had began using his time to read the Bible. To the surprise of Tom however, after a few hours he put the Bible back in his dirty old backpack, only to pull out the Koran and read from it for a good long time.

As nightfall came Tom found himself falling asleep, when suddenly the train slowed to a stop. The metal wheels screeched violently, waking Tom up completely. He looked at Putty.

“It’s a stop station. Just stay up against the wall over there and stay silent. We should be fine it’s late at night. They wont be checking too carefully.”

Tom pressed up against the wall in the back corner away from the door. He could hear chatter from the guards outside the car. They had flashlights in their hand but didn’t use them to look into the cars.  Tom held his breath as the guards passed him and Putty. They paid no attention to them, never suspecting two men had holed up in the car and treated it as their home. Like Putty had said it was late and they just wanted to go to sleep. As they passed the car Tom exhaled quietly. After about an hour the train jolted again and made a booming noise. Slowly it shifted into motion again and with minutes they had reached top speed and were miles away from the stop station. Tom moved away from the wall. Putty had fallen asleep and he decided to do the same.

SCREEECCCHH.

When he awoke Putty was hard at work in the corner. He held a rubix cube in his hands and stared at with a perplexed frustrated look. He looked up when he noticed Tom stirring.

“Morning Tom!” he noticed Tom looking at the rubix cube. “Never have been able to work these dammed things. You’re welcome to give it a whirl if you think you can do better.” He tossed the cube to Tom.

Tom caught the toy and sat up. He quickly went to work, systematically working the cube until all the faces matched up correctly. Putty watched in amazement.

“Well I’ll be dammed.  Looks like you’ve had more trouble twiddling your thumbs! How’d ya do that?” he asked.

Tom laughed and looked down as he spoke, “My dad got me one for Christmas when I was little and taught me how to work it. I guess I’ve just always remembered.”

“Why do you think that is?” Putty asked. “That we remember little things like that. Why do little things like that stick with a man so well”

“Not sure.” Tom answered. “Maybe it’s what we think is important. Things that really had an impact on us.”

“One of those cubes have an impact on you?” Putty asked.

“Best present I ever got.” Tom and Putty both laughed. “We were pretty poor growing up. Plus it was something I could do with my dad ya know? Nothing like spending time with my old man.”

Putty nodded with a strange look on his face, like he had just tasted something foul. As quickly as Tom had noticed the look, Putty replaced it with a cheery look of excitement. He quickly brought up a new topic and the two began chatting again. For hours they talked, so long that when darkness fell and they had to go to sleep, it seemed almost a shame.

The next few days continued on the same. They talked into the wee hours of the night, about anything and everything. Putty was an open book, happy to discuss any aspect of his life. He came from New York but had never really felt at home there. His father had been a big time lawyer and brought home the money. His mother stayed at home. His parents had fought non-stop but were never willing to give up the money that would come with a divorce.

As unexpected as everything about Putty had been to Tom, the most surprising thing by far was his charisma. He could captivate Tom with his stories about his travels. The look in his eye Tom had previously mistaken as crazy was clearly a passion for life. He truly had enjoyed his life, even the hard times. He had ridden the trains since a few years after college. Deciding he couldn’t continue living the life his parents wanted he chose to escape into a world of mystery and thrills. He rode the trains to wherever he desired, never riding one to reach a certain destination. He got off when he felt he had reached the right place.

Whenever Putty spoke Tom listened. His stories excited him and kept his mind busy. He reminded him of his own father, knowledgeable and accepting, yet realistic about what the world really was. Willing to accept it as an ugly place filled with ugly people, but never willing to accept that there wasn’t hope.

Tom stayed more reserved about himself, choosing instead to ask endless questions about Putty. He asked why he read from so many different religious texts, as he had seen him pull out a Torah and some Asian text Tom was not familiar with. Putty told him how when he was younger he had sought any and every way to escape the fighting of his parents. On Sundays, he explained, he went to church to escape them. However he never found a church he felt truly was accepting of all people, and would never visit one more than a few weeks in a row. After trying many different religions, and many different denominations, he chose to become well studied in them all.

Finally when it seemed they had run out of ideas of what to talk about, Tom asked his final question.

“How did you get the name SillyPutty?”

“About time you asked,” the two men laughed. “Honestly I’m not even quite sure at this point it’s been so long. Some strange story my father always told about the first time he had taken me to a toy store. He was actually the one who started calling me by the name. But he expected me to out grow it, and when I didn’t he was less than thrilled. But that’s kind of par for the course really.”

Tom nodded. He had began to pick up on the fact that Putty didn’t like his family much at all, in particular he couldn’t stand his father.  Quite a contrary to his own life. When asked about his family by Putty his only response had been “They aren’t around.”

The sun began to set as they drew their conversations to a close.

“We’ll be needin’ to head into town tomorrow I’d think, pick up some supplies and whatnot,” Putty stated. Tom looked down at his supply pack and realized it wasn’t going to last him nearly as long as he had expected. He looked at Putty confused.

“I don’t have any money,” he said embarrassed. Putty nearly coughed with laughter as he realized that Tom had thought this was an issue.

“Son do I look to be a man organizing the bills in his wallet each day? I haven’t held a dollar in God only knows how long. Don’t worry I’ll show ya a trick or two to get by.” And with that Putty rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, still chuckling under his breath about not having any money.

SCREEECCCHH.

When they awoke the sun barely peaked through a blanket of smooth grey clouds, teasing the Earth beneath it. Putty had been up for awhile and eventually rustled enough to stir Tom.

“Mornin’ Tom!”

“Good morning Putty,” Tom croaked as he stretched his arms out.

“Whatdo ya say we get a move on and head into town here soon? If we get off here soon we’re only a few minutes outside of a little town I used to visit when I was kid.”

“We’re in Texas?”

“Sure are,” Putty responded. “About an hour from my folks old place. Who knows if they’re still there, haven’t heard from em in years. /couldn’t even tell ya if theyre alive to be honest.”

Tom nodded and agreed they should get into town soon. They packed up what few items they had on board and dismounted the train carefully, doing a swift barrow roll as Putty had ordered.

Tom hit the ground with a thud but stood up unharmed. They were in a desert like area, but nothing too extreme. The air was dry but not suffocating and Tom found comfort in the fact that he could see the outlines of buildings up ahead. Putty motioned for him to catch up and he quickened his pace till they were side by side. Tom’s legs were sore and felt weak, as did most every other muscle he could feel.  He touched at his face and noticed for the first time that he had already grown a decent beard. He was really starting to look the part he thought to himself.

After they’d walked a few minutes across the barren dirt landscape, the buildings Tom had been able to see in the distance as outlines now began to take shapes. He could see a small town up ahead. It looked like one of he small towns youd see in a Western, probably ran by a sheriff and hosting the nightly bar fight at the local saloon. Stepping out of the dirt landscape and into the streets of the small town, Tom was actually surprised to see cars as opposed to horse and buggies like he had been expecting.

“Welcome to Marfa Texas. Home to about 2000 of the rowdiest sons of bitches you’ll ever meet.”

“Pretty interesting little place,” Tom piped up.

“It’s something alright.” Putty replied. “Come on lets get some supplies.

Tom followed Putty throughout the day, learning how to take what they needed as they went. Putty explained that the biggest trick to being a good thief was never taking more than you needed.

“When ya want more than ya need you bet yourself into some trouble. If that’s your case this probably isn’t the lifestyle for you anyways.” Putty instructed. Tom nodded in agreement.

They took only small things that would get them by on the train: bags of rice, beans, small cans of meat. Water became a tough steal when Tom realized he had no way to store it, but Putty had an extra canteen in his coat pocket. They filed each to the brim several times, enjoying plenty in between each fill.

The day passed by quickly, the sun moving across the sky swiftly before Tom had even noticed. As the sun set behind the horizon Putty spoke up.

“How about a drink? I know a little place around the corner I’ve been to a time or two before. They wont charge us.” Tom had never been a huge drinker but the idea sounded like a pretty good one. He agreed.

The hole in the wall bar Putty had led them to was exactly like Tom would have imagined it. Ragged and worn on the outside, it looked like the supports of the building might fail at any time and bring the entire place tumbling to the ground. A Budweiser sign flickered on and off, buzzing at a low frequency as it tried to stay lit. They passed through the front entrance, greeted by a low hum from the stereo playing some old country song Tom didn’t know. The bar was empty save for the man sitting behind the bar serving would be customers. He had fallen asleep, likely from alcohol and Putty pulled up a seat next to him. He flicked him in the face several times but he never moved.

“Told ya they wouldn’t charge us,” Putty laughed.

The drinks poured long enough that the burn they elft in Tom’s throat eventually disappeared. They drank and laughed, spewing stories of their past over whiskey and beer. With an overdramatic heaving motion Tom poured down another shot of Whiskey and looked at Putty.

“You oughtta go see em,” he managed to slur out.

Putty sipped his beer and looked at Tom questioningly.

“Your family. You oughtta stop by while we’re here. See how they’re doin, ya know?”

Putty sipped his beer again then set it down. He swayed back and forth drunkenly then belched loudly. He shook his head.

“When I left I left for good. I didn’t plan on ever goin’ back and I don’t plan on changin’ that now. They aren’t good people Tom. Definitely not the type to approve of a man like myself. Doubt they’d even wanna see me. Besides pretty hypocritical of you to tell me to see my family isn’t it? You just up and left yours back in Kentucky. Why don’t we make a trip back that way so you can stop in?”

Tom blinked for a moment and hesitated before he could speak. The taste of whiskey was strong in his mouth and he found himself undable to speak. He poured himself another glass and finally spoke up.

“My family’s passed. My dad is anyway. I don’t know where my mom is she left when I was a little kid. Don’t even remember her.” His words were slurred and he felt his eyes getting hot. Putty didn’t speak.

“My dad died in a car accident about 3 months ago. Hit by a families minivan on a bridge. No one survived. I couldn’t even be mad, it wasn’t like some drunk driver killed him or some asshole who had stolen a car. It was a fuckin’ family man.” Tears were forming in Tom’s eyes and slowly started to trickle out of their corners.

“I couldn’t be mad. All I could be was alone and in pain. Every damn day all I felt was pain weighing me down. But that’s life. It isn’t fair but you have to deal with it. So I dealt with it. I jumped on a train and escaped. I ran away and found freedom. I found more freedom than I ever knew this world had. My dad was a good man and I know damn well that he’d be proud of me right now. And I want nothing more than to see him one more time.  That’s why you gotta see your family man. You never know when you just might not be able to anymore” Putty sat silently staring into his beer while Tom dried his eyes.

“We need to leave. Don’t wanna be here in the morning when this guy wakes up,” he said motioning to the lifeless bartender. They both stood up carefully, using each other and the bar for support.

They left the bar and walked through the dimly lit town in the same direction they had originally entered from. Tom noticed now all of the things he hadn’t seen when they arrived. The decrepit buildings. The poverty stricken homes of people likely addicted to drugs or who knows what. Broken bottles in the street, houses unkempt by years of neglect. This wasn’t the romantic Western movie town he thought it was. This was somewhere you wanted to escape while you had the chance.

When they reached the train tracks Putty stopped them just short. He spoke, “I looked it up earlier. The next train that comes through should be heading West still but tomorrow it passes right by my parent’s old suburb. I’m gonna take your advice. I’m gonna see them.” Tom smiled at him warmly and patted him on the back like old friends.

SCREEECCCHH.

The sound of the approaching train drew both of their attention and they both boarded as it passed, though admittedly with quite  bit more difficulty this time than before.

Tom woke with a pounding in his head. His insides churned and he felt like he may vomit at any moment. He leaned over the edge and for the first time realized that the train wasn’t moving. He looked around confused as to why they were stationary. The sun hadn’t come up but he could see well enough in the darkness to tell they were sitting still. Suddenly he heard voices. He panicked and reached to shake Putty. He didn’t move at first and then only rolled over after Tom had tried again. The voices grew nearer. Tom hid in the corner like he had done at the stop station before, trying to make himself unseen by the patrol guards. They approached slowly shining their lights in. Tom held his breath.

“Well what do we have here?” laughed one of the guards. They smelled of alcohol and slurred their words slightly. Tom waited for them to approach him, yank him off the train. But no one touched him. He looked to find them grabbing instead at Putty. They grabbed him the coat and threw him harshly onto the ground. He hit hard and woke with a start. Dazed and confused he quickly regained himself.

“Evening gentlemen! What can I be doin’ for ya today?”

“How about getting the hell off our train!” they yelled angrily. The guard who had yelled stepped forward and kicked Putty square across the face. Tom flinched but remained silent. Putty made eye contact with him clearly telling him to stay silent and make no moves. The guard kicked him again, then the other one joined in, delivering a foot to the ribs. Putty grunted and screamed in pain, begging them to stop, pleading with them to allow him on his way. Tears mixed with dirt and blood. They laughed to themselves as the punishment went on, each kick delivering another painful blow. Finally as it looked like it was nearly over one of the guards reached into his pocket. He flipped out a small switchblade. Tom didn’t hesitate. He sprung out of the train and launched himself at the guard knocking him off his feet. The other guard moved towards Tom but Putty hit him across the knees with a kick, knocking him to ground hard. In all the confusion Tom lost sight of the knife but could still see its gleam in the cold night. The train suddenly began to move behind them. Tom grabbed for Putty and pulled him along as they attempted to board the train. Through Tom’s best efforts they were able to succeed and leave the guards behind in a cussing fit of dust and blood.

Tom looked down at Putty who was resting against the wall. Putty moved his hand away from his coat revealing a gash from the cut of a knife. Crimson was soaking through his clothes and he winced in pain as he tried to move. He gave up quickly and looked up at Tom. He smiled

“I believe I have found my destination.”

Tom shook his head but Putty only laughed slightly then coughed.

“Every mans gotta die someday. Not every man gets to die free as I do though. Gotta say I’m lucky for that. Can’t see a better way than this. Dyin the way I lived.” He nodded to himself again then looked back at Tom. “Don’t worry Tom. We’ll both get to see our family’s again one way or the other. I’ll say howdy to your pops up there in the big guys house.”

Tom nodded slowly, tears flowing like a stream down his face. “You’re a great man Putty. My dad’s gonna love you.”

Putty stuck his hand out shaking towards Tom. Tom gripped it tight and shook his hand one last time.

“Arrivederci my friend.” Putty whispered. And with that his body fell motionless in the train.

Tom’s head fell limp on his shoulders and he sobbed for only a moment longer. He looked away from Putty and out into the night sky. He dried his eyes and rested Putty’s cold body against the train wall. Something calmed him then. Something in the night sky and in the familiar screech of the train. He thought of his dad and how proud he would be. Confused but proud nonetheless. He would accept whatever made Tom happy. He thought of freedom. He had found freedom. He thought of what Putty had said. Putty had found freedom as well.

In the corner he noticed that Putty had left him the stump he had been using as a seat. He moved it over and sat in his corner. The trains were his home now. All he could hear was the screech of the wheels and all he could see was the blur of objects rushing past him. He had found his place.

So the train hauled on through the crisp night air, a blister of curious hope being driven into a mysterious tomorrow.