HIGH IRON
Chapter 8 -North of McComb
The storm continued to blow as the GREY OAK steamed north, the winds rippling the dark waters of the Mississippi River, throwing whitecaps over the bow of the steamboat. She was fifteen miles south of Natchez, Mississippi, all were asleep in these wee hours except for Robert and Eric in the pilothouse and once there and the GREY OAK was tied up, they too would get some shuteye. They watched the spotlights of the second southbound steamboat light up the river around the bend as their own feeble cast iron briers of wood knots did the same for them but at a much more limited range. Hawk never would spend that kind of money on his deathtrap. So the cast iron lanterns and markers would continue to shine from the GREY OAK as they had for over 100 years while the other steamboats became more safe, with electric running lights and markers powered by generators connected to their boilers.
The long mournful cries of the approaching steamer announced her presence to Robert and Eric and they answered back with their own cry from the steam whistle located on the roof of the pilothouse as the wind howled, rattling the glass, and lightning shot across the dark sky during the flashes. They could see the deckhands busy keeping the fires burning that lit the river for them; they were taking shifts; while some fed the fires, the others slept curled as close as they could to the engine room and the exposed boilers on the boiler deck, trying to stay dry and warm. They cursed the slow pace and the strong current of the river as it tried its best to push them back to sea. The bow of the southbound steamer swung around the bend and the spotlights sweeping the river banks dimmed to keep from blinding Robert and Eric while the other one continued to sweep the shoreline, looking for snags and sawyers that could snag the bottom of the boat and send her to the bottom in a matter of minutes.
"The MAYFLOWER," Eric said. "Look at those damned paddles fly, she'll be almost to New Orleans before we get to Natchez the way she is rolling."
"Yes, she is crowding on steam. I wonder what her hurry is?"
"Dunno but she is running with the current and we ain't, we got to fight Ole Man River tooth and nail for every inch," Robert bellowed as the high wind blew harder, causing the steamboat to shudder. Suddenly the deck bell started to ring and deckhands started shouting and Robert saw it. "O MY FUCKING GOD!" He started to turn the big wheel quickly to port as the dark bobbing mass of the 'sawyer' continued to rise up and down on the waves of muddy water. He ran the engine bell, signaling the engineer for all slow on the engines to slow the massive 26' diameter paddlewheel. Robert heard the toot from the MAYFLOWER as her spotlights clicked back on, painting the river in a eerie glow of light. The sunken tree continued to bob up and down, her roots holding it to the river bottom as the branches reached out like claws reaching for the tender underbelly of the GREY OAK. "TURN, YOU OVERLOADED GODDAMNED FUCKING BARGE, TURN!" Robert was swearing as Eric stood close to the glass windows, watching the sawyer and the rushing deckhands. The GREY OAK slowly began to swing to port, her wooden paddles chopping the water as her rudders steered the boat away from disaster. The waterlogged branches scraped against the hull of the steamboat as she slipped past out of harm's way as the MAYFLOWER blasted her whistle once more and began to pick up speed, her powerfull spotlights once more sweeping the broad river behind the GREY OAK. "Eric, take the wheel.. I need a drink and a smoke," Robert said as Eric came over and grasped the big wheel in his hands, while Robert reached for the flask that now sat behind the coal bin that held the fuel supply for the little pot bellied stove. He pulled the stopper and brought the flask to his parched lips and drank some of the strong whiskey, then replaced the stopper and walked outside on the Texas deck's roof where the cold rain hit him, reawakening his tired senses and body before returning to the overheated pilothouse. The bell on deck tolled 3 AM. It was going to be a long night. The 7th bell would ring before the GREY OAK arrived at Natchez-under-the-hill.
Sean and Jamie continued to sleep, curled up in each other's protective arms, Sean on his back with Jamie's head resting on his chest and the heavy sheets pulled tightly around them to ward off the chill caused by the damp air and rain. The town was silent except for the boom of thunder, the clank of rails and wheels, and the chuffing exhaust of the busy switch engines,.the workers in their long black raincoats as they rode the brake platforms and ladders, knowing that one wrong slip could mean a leg or arm and even death, but they were men of the Rails and they took the danger as part of their jobs and with a certain amount of pride. While the crew was asleep, engine number 6003 was being fueled and watered under the massive concrete coaling tower. Number 6003 was a monster of a beast, her 2-6-6-2 configuration made her and her 5 sisters the largest steam locomotives on the entire Illinois Central Railroad. ICRR acquired them when they bought the old Central of Georgia Railroad which connected Memphis,TN, with Atlanta, GA. 6003 was sent south over a month ago for a complete overhaul and rebuilding, which included a fresh coat of black paint and white lettering. Her fat boiler was the same thickness from her smokebox to the cab, unlike the others in which the boilers tapered down toward the smokebox. Her headlight was mounted low on the pilot right above the pair of pilot wheels. The bell hung out and over the smokebox door, its brass shining like new pennies. She was a simple articulated compound, both sets of cylinders the same size, which made her heavy on the rails and some said rough riding as well. External piping ran along her boiler, connecting the two sets of four cylinders. The yard hostler tooted her whistle after the tender was loaded with 60 tons of black diamonds, then 6003 was pulled down to the water spout where her tender was topped off with 25,000 gallons of water. She sat there under the arc lights, her fresh black paint shining, her bunker loaded with coal, her headlight cutting through the fog of the early morning, her green and red running lights shining, pointing northward to Jackson Number 6003 was waiting on her call to duty, panting and waiting, ready to get off down the track.
The fog continued to rise from the ground, mixing with the smoke and steam of the locomotives as they shuffled their neverending incoming or outbound cars. The sun was still four hours away before it broke the spell of darkness and by then the yard crews would have #6003's train of 150 northbound cars ready. Number 6003 would carry enough cars to make three normal trains because of her size. The management decided to get as much freight moved as possible. The yard hostler chuckled, "Boy, will Bill and John be surprised when they see this old girl on the point of their train." Little #9 and #11 continued to block cars and, ten by ten, they coupled them onto #6003 for the northbound trip to Jackson, MS. There the train once more would be yarded and sorted, with the last 50 cars headed for Grenada and another 50 for Memphis, plus more would be added, some for Durant for the local headed northeast to Kosciusko and Akerman, on to West Point.
The night passed slowly for the workers in the yards and offices of the Railroad but too quickly for the sleeping men and boys. The caller at half past seven knocked on John's, Bill's, Scott's, and the door of Joe's room, awaking them. The groggy men slowly climbed out of their beds and grabbed the white towels and wrapped them around their waists as they grabbed soap and their razors and headed for the public showers located down the hall and to the rear of the building. They mumbled "goodmornings" in half sleepy tones and unrecognizable syllables.
"Scott, you head on to the shower, while I grab the two little devils," Joe said, as he rubbed his eyes with his right hand while holding on to his shower stuff and his towel with his left.
"Okay, Joe," Scott replied as he headed down the hallway, his firm ass clearly outlined in the white material of the towel.
Joe watched Scott for a moment as he ran his tongue over his lips, "Damn, what a fine ass," and Joe could never get enough of it. He rapped on the door to the room shared by Sean and Jamie. "Time to get your butts out of bed!"
The two boys heard the knocking on the door but did not want to stir from the warm bed and the comfortable position they were lying in. "Go away, we're trying to sleep here!" a sleepy voice called from behind the door.
"Sean, Jamie, you have five seconds to grab your towels and be in this hallway, before I come in and grab you both by the ears!" Joe said, as he rattled the door knob again.
"A'right, sheese, keep your pants on!" Jamie shouted.
Joe smiled and shouted back, "I can't because I ain't wearin' none! So hurry your butts up!
Sean yawned and stretched, then reluctantly threw the covers back off his and Jamie's naked frames, exposing them to the chilly morning air. Jamie protested the removal of the the warm covers off his naked frame as the goosebumps formed all over his body. He tried to reach for the covers as Sean kicked them to the foot of the bed with his powerful lighty hairy legs. Sean crawled out of the bed after leaning over and kissing Jamie on the cheek, "Come on, Jamie, get out of bed before Joe comes in here and pulls you out by your ears!" Jamie moaned and tried to protest the idea of waking up from such a restful sleep, the best he had in days. "We're comin', Joe!" Sean shouted as he wrapped his naked frame in the white towel and reached over and grabbed Jamie's hard penis. Sean whispered, "Joe might grab you by the ears but I have other places I can grab to get your cute butt out of the bed, now come on before I decide to tickle all the right buttons."
Jamie moaned and crawled off the big bed and found the twin to the towel that Sean had around his own morning boner. He wrapped it around his waist and they headed to the door to meet Joe and then head to the showers.
The two teens entered the dim hall and were greeted by sleepy-eyed Joe, who stood there tapping his bare foot. "Come on, you little buggers, time to get clean and then one of Annie's breakfasts."
Joe headed toward the large tiled shower room with Sean and Jamie close on his heels, even in their sleepy states two slim smiles broke across their faces as they watched the firm towel clad behind of Joe bounce and move under the tight towel as he led them to the shower room. Sean and Jamie could only guess Scott's and Joe's ages, but they guessed the early twenties.
They walked around the corner into the locker room where the men stored all their personal items. The three walked past the long lines of wooden lockers as the noise of running water grew closer as they approached the showers. Joe unwrapped his towel and hung it on one of the iron hooks that lined the wall at the entrance to the shower. The two teens stopped short as their eyes feasted upon the nude body of their friend, they watched the muscles in Joe's back flex and move as he continued into the shower and the pale flesh of his ass cheeks. Joe's back was smooth as well as his behind, the dirty blonde hair became visible once again below the cleft of his ass. Sean and Jamie smiled at each other as they shed their own towels and hung them on the hooks and walked into the steam cloud and warmth of the shower. Sean and Jamie's hands instantly swung down to cover their groins and their boners as they walked past Bill and the rest of the crew to a set of heads in one of the corners.
"Looks like our little boys are shy ones!" Bill said as he watched the two teens walk past where he was standing, washing his hairy chest and stomach.
Joe turned and looked at where Sean and Jamie had walked to and smiled when he saw the two sets of ass cheeks. Jamie's were milky white while Sean's were olive in color like a natural tan. "Bill, leave my two little boys alone and finish washing all the cinders out of that mop of yours!"
"Listen here, you little wet behind the ears, baby smooth confucker! I am a real man, real men have hair on their chests. Even John is more of a man than you and Scott, at least he does have some hair on his chest, unlike you two."
Jamie let out a small laugh, "I hope I never become a man then!"
"Why, you little shit!" Bill said, then broke out into laughter as he saw the shocked expression on Jamie's face. "And keep your eyes above the groin, young man!"
Jamie blushed and averted his eyes over to Scott who was now letting the hot spray wash his back. Scott just smiled at the younger boy.
"Aww, hell, Bill, he wasn't looking at that little four inch dick of yours. He would have to get closer and use a magnifying glass to see it!" John said and everyone burst out in laughter.
"Shut your trap, boy, before I wash it out with this here bar of lye soap and, besides, it is not that small. My Liz doesn't think it is too small and besides I have proof it works, and remember one thing, I am the one who controls the throttle, I can make your life a living hell between here and Jackson town or it can be a nice morning ride."
"Your wife, hmmm, yours is prolly the only one she has ever seen!" Scott chimed in.
"And you, you little Ape wagon riding monkey, shut up before I tie you to the pilot of the engine naked to scare off all the critters all the way to Jackson town."
"No, we would have to tie Bill to the cowcatcher to do that, he's the only one ugly enough, but then the front of the engine would be too heavy and the drivers would slip because we overloaded it!" Sean said, then burst into to laughter, followed by everyone but Bill.
"Why, you little shit, you want this bar of soap shoved up your backdoor so far you be farting bubbles till you're 90!" Bill called as he started to slowly walk toward Sean.
'Oh shit!' Sean thought as he watched the big naked engineer slowly walking toward him, everyone else had smiles on their faces. Sean slipped behind Jamie as everyone laughed at him.
"Blondie can't save you now, Sean, my boy!" Bill laughed as he waved the thick bar of soap in his right hand.
"BLONDIE!" Jamie balled his hands into fists, "I'll shove that bar of soap so far up your crusty ass they will never find it again and everytime you hiccup you'll blow bubbles."
"Oooh, someone is growing red in the face," Bill said, "but Jamie, my wee one, I was just playing with Sean, no harm intended to him nor you, now relax. We need to soon finish before the rush gets here, besides I am hungry." Bill started to wash the rest of his body including his hair with the soap as everyone else returned to the cleansing of their bodies, leaving Sean and Jamie alone as they washed up. Sean and Jamie tried their best to keep their eyes off the two slender bodies of Joe and Scott. John and Bill were just a little old for their interest, plus Bill was hairy and kinda flabby in the gut, middle age, both teens thought at different times as they showered.
Scott slipped out of the steamy shower without being noticed by Jamie and Sean until he was gone. He quickly dried off and dressed in his clean clothes and soon was walking down the brick sidewalk toward the mercantile store located on Railroad Avenue. He entered the cool brick building and walked up to the counter where the clerk stood, helping a young lady and her son. Scott greeted the young lady and tipped his striped denim cap.
"Good morning Sir, I'll be right with you as soon as I finish with Mrs. Lawrence and her son Tim," the clerk spoke as he wrapped Mrs. Lawrence's packages in brown paper.
"Thank you, Sir, I will need help in choosing some clothes for two young men about Tim's age here." He looked down at the brown haired boy with freckles covering his face and ruffled the boy's hair. The boy's green eyes sparkled.
"Neat hat, Mr.!" Tim said as he looked at the striped hat of gray and blue that most railroaders wore. The style was becoming popular among other industries' employees outside the Railroad field. It was rumored the design of the cap came to an engineer on a train in Illinois in around 1880, he got tired of hot coal cinders blowing down his neck everytime he stuck his head out of the cab of the locomotive and he came up with an idea, so when he finished his run the engineer went home and told his wife about the idea he had on his nightly mail run, so while he slept his wife took some denim cloth and sewed a hard leather bill into the front of the cap design her husband had drawn. That night the engineer wore his new cap and everyone around asked where he had gotten it, so the engineer started taking requests for his cap and soon his wife had to hire help. Within a year they had invested in a small building where his wife set up shop to produce the 'Duck Bill cap' and he continued to sell them for two dollars apiece.
"Thanks, Tim, I am sure if you go to the roundhouse and ask nicely someone might find you a new one."
"Maw, do you think Dad could get me one, or let me have his old one when he gets a new one?"
"I am sure he can get you one, if you behave."
"OK, Mrs. Lawrence, you're all set to go. I will let you know when I have more of that material available."
"Thank you, Mr. Wilson. Come on, Tim, time to go to the market."
"Bye, Mr. Wilson, bye Mr."
"Bye, Tim, remember to be good."
"I will Mr.," Tim said as he followed his mother out the door.
"Now, Sir, how may I help you this fine morning?"
"I need some clothing for two young men, one is 14, the other 16, both are slender built, medium height, one's about 5'7", the other about 5'4" or so."
"I see," the clerk said as he walked around from behind the counter. "You need pants, shirts, and undergarments?"
"Yes, I need them all," Scott replied.
"How many of each?" the clerk asked as he walked over to the shelves.
"Two of each should be enough."
"Very well, Sir." The clerk began to pull the dyed blue cotton long sleeve shirts off the shelf. "We'll start with the shirts, then move on down the line."
Scott took the items as they were passed to him as he scanned the cool dark building. The tongue and groove ceiling was painted a bright white and rows of 20 watt light bulbs lined it in neat rows, hanging down in wire cages. The dark wood floor was clean and looked like it had not long ago been waxed. The front of the store had open barrels of apples and other fruits along with assorted canned goods on the many shelves and tables. Toward the middle there was a wide selection of clothes and cloth and other supplies like thread, needles, and shoes. The rear of the building held hardware, nails, hammers, buckets, pails, shovels, hoes, and just about anything else that was in demand for the small farmer or someone who did not want to go to the grain and feed store on the other side of town.
Soon they had all the needed items, including underwear and socks, and they walked back up to the high counter where the clerk wrapped the clothes in brown paper and the clerk totaled the cost on the large wrought iron cash register and Scott paid for the total. He was almost tempted to buy a soda from the soda fountain, he really enjoyed the one called 'Coca-Cola'. It was so sweet in flavor and it seemed to work better than coffee when tired. 'Naw, too early for a fountain soda,' he thought as he walked back out of the store and onto the brick sidewalk, once more headed back to the Railroad YMCA building. Joe and the crew had decided to surprise the boys with clean fresh clothing after they had their showers but he overslept and now he was hurrying back so hopefully he could beat the boys to their room and leave the packages on the bed for them. He was about to enter the building when he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes went to the train sitting on the ready track, number 6003 sat there steaming in the morning sun and it was coupled to what he was sure was his train, he knew it was his train, on the rear was caboose number 600. 'Oh boy,' he thought, 'will Bill have a fit over this one.'. He entered the double doors and hurried through the dining room which was quickly beginning to fill with hungry men and up the stairs to Sean's and Jamie's room. He knocked on the door and there was no answer so he jiggled the knob and it opened. He walked inside and placed the two brown paper packages on the bed and marked each with a piece of chalk J for Jamie's and S for Sean's. Just as he entered the hall he heard the voices of Sean and Jamie as they walked back to their room so he decided to wait for them.
"Hey, Scott, where'd ya go?" Sean asked.
"I had a little errand to run, before breakfast," Scott replied, doing his best to keep a straight face.
"Oh," Sean replied as he opened the door to the room and stopped. "Where the packages come from?"
"I guess the railroad fairy brought them, while y'all were in the shower," Joe remarked as he stood behind the boys wrapped only in his towel, Bill and John were already getting dressed and ready for breakfast.
"Well, are you two just going to stand there almost naked all day or do you plan to open them and see what they might hold?"
The two teens looked at Scott, then Joe, and walked over to the bed and each got the package marked for them. They dropped their towels as they fumbled with the brown packages, each bent over into the task of untying the string, giving perfect views of the two sets of smooth ass cheeks to Joe and Scott, who both did their best not to let out moans of desire. Once the boys had the string off and the packages unwrapped they instantly turned and smiled at Scott and Joe and they raced over to bring both of them into a hug. The tightness of the hug brought Scott's left hand down and it brushed against the front of Joe's towel where it encountered the rising flesh of Joe's cock. He left it there for a second before moving it to a safer position around Jamie's shoulders and his right was around Sean's. "Thank you, Scott and Joe," both boys said almost in unison.
"You're welcome, boys, now you better get dressed, it is not very proper to run around naked and I am ready for breakfast," Scott said. The two boys blushed and released the two older males and headed back toward the bed. Scott could not help himself and gave each boy a whack on the butt, to their surprise. He winked at Joe who smiled back, he had felt Scott's hand rub his cock. 'Just maybe there was a chance after all,' Joe thought.
Sean and Jamie were pulling on their new briefs and the fit was tight and snug just as Scott hoped. Their actions last night and in the caboose did not fall upon deaf ears and he was sure Joe heard them as well. "Damn, I was pretty good at guessing clothes for boys," Scott said as he watched the boys pull on their new jeans and socks. Joe had left to get dressed himself.
The boys tied their shoes and stood in front of Scott. "How we look, Scott?"
"Very handsome, my boyos, very fine! Come now, let's get breakfast and give Bill his first shock of today."
Sean quickly pulled his grandfather's gold pocket watch from his dirty jeans and put it in his new ones, along with the four gold coins. Scott watched him and smiled. "Com'on boys, and Sean, remember to keep that pocket watch wound and well hidden, the nation is in for hard times ahead and you don't want some bastard to steal it from you. The railroad has never made a habit of just passing out gold plated pocket watches to just anyone."
"I plan to keep it well hidden. It is the only thing I have left tied to my family and past now. We lost everything in the fire, even granddad's photo of him smiling proudly from the cab of his engine." Jamie put his right arm around Sean.
"Come on, Sean, let's get breakfast and show off our new duds," Jamie said as he started walking to the door, practically pulling Sean along with him while Scott waited.
Joe, Bill, and John waited in the hallway for Scott and the two boys to join them before heading down to the dining hall.
"Well, looka here, those two shine up like silver dollars." Bill let out a low whistle.
"Yeah, they do, Bill." John said. Joe just smiled and wrapped his arms around the two.
"Com'on, Annie got those hot buttermilk biscuits waiting on us."
"There Bill goes, thinking with his stomach again."
"Hell, John, if I didn't think with my stomach we would never be on time." Bill laughed as they headed down the stairs and into the dining hall. Bill led them toward the same table they had used the day before, the round one in front of the large plate glass window overlooking the yards.
"Good Morning, Boys!" Annie called from across the room where she was writing out the pie slip for another crew. The 'Pie Slip', as it was referred to, was the voucher given to the train crews for meals while on duty. The slips came in booklets of twenty and many men traded the vouchers for other items of want or money from other crews, each was worth five dollars.
"Good Morning, Annie girl!" Bill called back, while packing his pipe with fresh tobacco.
"Bill, you know there ain't no smoking in the dining room!" Annie laughed as she looked around at all the other men smoking and drinking coffee after finishing their meals.
"Oh, there isn't, huh? I see how it is, only the ones who flirt back and slips ya favors gets to smoke in your dining room, I see!" Bill laughed along with several of the men at the other other tables.
"Just keep it up and I will have Sam reheat that bitter coffee we had left over from last night for you!"
"Uh O, Bill that is a major threat, left over stale coffee from Annie's kitchen. Sounds worst than drinking some other things we know about." Joe chuckled.
Sean and Jamie had their eyes glued to the glass as they looked at #6003, it was the largest steam locomotive either had seen. Scott nudged Joe on the arm and motioned toward the two boys staring out the window. "She's a big girl, ain't she, boys?"
"Yes, she is, I never knew we had'em that size, it's like two engines under one hell of a big boiler."
Bill turned and looked out the window at what everyone else already knew about. "Son of a Bitch! What in the bloody hell is it doing on the front of what looks to be my train?"
Everyone laughed, "Ooooh, looks like Bill has finally met his match, a steam engine bigger than him," Jamie said and everyone laughed.
"Why, you little...."
"Watch that tongue, Bill, around innocent children," Annie said as she sat the fresh cups of coffee and two glasses of cold milk down on the table before reaching over and pinching Jamie's and Sean's cheeks.
"Innocent, Hell, he ain't innocent, just like you, Annie girl, and besides I was just going to tell the little angel all about number 6003," Bill said with a sneer, then grinned.
"Sure you was, Bill, sure," Annie said as she grabbed her writing pad and pencil from her apron. "What will it be, boyos?"
"Hmmmm, let me get the biscuits, sausage, eggs over easy and some fresh blackberry jelly," Bill said
"Same here," John said
Joe ordered the biscuits, bacon, and scrambled eggs, and Scott seconded that order for himself.
"OK, Sweeties, what do y'all want this morning?" Annie asked.
"Pancakes and lots of butter and some sausage too, please," Jamie said.
"Me too," replied Sean.
"OK, boys I'll be right back." Annie hurried off to the kitchen as the hands on the large Regulator clock struck eight am.
"Now, Sean, your remark about #6003 being two locomotives under one boiler is correct, she is an articulated compound, meaning she has two sets of drivers that uses high pressure steam in each set. She won't fly like a Pacific or a Mikado but she'll outpull both of them any day, rain or shine." Bill continued to tell the captive boys who he now had in his grasp as he explained the workings of the big steamer while Scott and Joe just sat back and listened while sipping their coffee. Other men at the other tables just smiled and some shook their heads.
"Natchez is just around the bend, Eric, I can see the steeple of Saint Mary's ."
"It's about damned time, Robert, I am ready for some sleep after I hit the tavern for a stiff drink and maybe a little boy pussy!" Eric let out a tired chuckle as he continued to turn the big wheel, while Robert stood in the door, drinking hot coffee and eating a piece of bread that the boat's cook had fixed the night before.
'I know one you wouldn't mind having,' Robert thought to himself. "Yeah, Eric, you're always the horny bastard for boys," Robert said as he bit into the hard bread. "Start sounding the landing call, Eric, so the bastards know we are coming in for a landing."
Eric reached up and started pulling the braided whistle cord, sounding the low moan of the steam whistle. In town a sharp cry of another whistle answered back, it was the morning local on the Mississippi Central Railroad. "Sounds like the morning crawler headed east, I know those puny fucking whistles anywhere!" Eric said as he yanked the whistle cord again, sending another long low cry over the river to the sleeping town.
"Yeah, the sound of death to every river man on Ole Man River, death by iron rail and steam," Robert replied.
"I have no love for the railroad, never have, and I think that is how my boy made his escape from the Crescent City, by fucking railroad of all ways," Robert said in a growl of disgust and hate.
The city of Natchez was now in view as the bow of the steamer rounded the bend in the river. The two pilots saw the Railroad transfer Steamer in mid-stream as she headed toward the Louisiana shoreline with her cargo of freight cars for the Saint Louis, Iron Mountain and Southern Railroad. Eric blasted his whistle again and the transfer steamer replied with a long blast. Eric maneuvered toward the city wharf where the landsmen were waiting to catch the bowlines of the steamer as she drew closer to her docking place. Eric continued to blast short toots from the whistle as the big paddlewheeler eased to her berth and the landsmen caught the hawser ropes and tied them to the pilings as Eric rang the bell to the engineroom to cut power to the wheel. The dampers to the fireboxes were closed as were the doors as steam started to shoot high in the sky from the exhaust pipes and up the stacks as the sleepy crew debarked in search of food, liquor, and women or, if they preferred, boys, Natchez-under-the-hill hadn't changed much since before the Civil War when hundreds of steamboats docked there in a day or so, it still had its single street, Silver Street, and most of the taverns and dens were still unpainted and dangerously sitting on the banks of the mighty river.
"Com'on, Robert, let's go get some grub,." Eric said as he walked to the door of the pilothouse and down the wooden ladder to the roof of the Texas deck. Robert and Eric climbed down to the hurricane deck, then to the boiler deck as they headed to the gangplank and shore. Robert didn't have a clue to how close he was to his son; less than some 50 miles away Jamie was enjoying breakfast...
"Departure time for train #26 is at 9 AM sharp!" The call boy shouted in the noisy dining hall.
"Damn, Rusty, you don't have to shout, why don't you just walk over to the table and hand us the orders?"
"Sorry, Bill." The 15 year old brown haired boy walked over with the running orders for train #26. He greeted the crew by name, then introduced himself. "I am Rusty and you're...."
"The Angel and the bad man, or is that boy?" Bill replied.
"Huh?" Rusty asked.
"Well, Sean there, the older boy, is from a railroading family from New Orleans. Jamie, the little blonde, is a spy, he comes from a steamboatin' family."
"I am not a spy!" Jamie hissed.
"Nice to meet you both," Rusty said as he reached out to shake both boys' hands. "Steamboatin', Huh? I thought they all be out of business by now," Rusty said matter of factly.
"Well, y'all have put a dent in Ole Man River, but you hadn't killed him yet, besides some of the finer packets still plow the waters in grand style, " Jamie stated. The older men and Sean just looked on as Jamie stood his ground, defending his past and inside they all were proud of him, most of all Sean.
"Come on, boyos, let's go check out my tea kettle they gave me to run," Bill said as he stood up and pushed back his hard wooden chair and reached for his cap.
"Tea Kettle, hell, you got one of biggest engines on the line!"
"OK. fine, Rusty, my oversized rough ridin' Tea Kettle then," Bill smarted back to the teenager, while everyone else chuckled.
"Every hogger has to be a smartass," Rusty said as he walked out of the building and across the yards.
"Teenagers think they grown at 15 these days. What is this world coming to?" Bill said as he stepped out into the heat and humidity of the morning as they walked over to their waitng train.
Jamie and Sean just looked at Bill while Scott and Joe both winked and passed them a sly smile. Bill and John climbed into the cab of #6003 as she simmered on the yard track. "Damn it, John, you're going to have it easy! You got an automatic stoker on this whore."
"Yeah, Bill, you can waste all the coal and steam you want, while I just turn these little brass wheels in front of me." John laughed as he turned the brass wheels with his gloved hands, adjusting the water and steam that fed the big boiler while the air pumps whined, building up the air pressure in the train brakes up to 110 pounds per inch. The automatic stoker clanked and rattled as it ground the lumps of coal as steam jets fired it to all corners of the red hot firebox.
"Scott, what the gauge showing?" Joe asked as he stood on the back platform of caboose #600.
"115, Joe!" Scott called back after looking at the round air gauge mounted above the cupola seats. "OK, boys, mount the Angel's seat, we're about to leave town and I don't want y'all to get hurt, we're going to have a pretty good bump with all this slack in these cars and the number of them combined."
Sean climbed the iron rungs of the ladder up to the right hand seat and sat down while Jamie climbed up to join him. "OK, Joe, the boys are in the Angel's seat, give Bill the high ball!" Scott called as he climbed up on the left hand side.
Joe waved the green flag in a high circle and he heard Bill answer back with a long blast from #6003. Joe rolled up the flag and stepped onboard #600 and walked inside to join Scott and the boys in the cupola.
The boys looked ahead at the plume of smoke shooting from the stack of 6003, they knew to brace their feet on the iron floor rods and listened for the telltale clinks and clanks of the couplers as the slack was pulled out of the cars ahead as the heavy long train started to roll.
"Come on, Bill, and make those drivers spin!" John shouted.
"Quit giving me your lip and give me more steam, Damn it, boy! This is the longest train ever made up here to date and I am not about to look stupid due to lack of steam." John opened the firebox door some more and turned on the blower that blew air into the firebox, causing it to burn hotter. The coals turned from red to white and the needle on the steam gauge climbed past 200 pounds, creeping slowly toward 225.
"25 more pounds and the safety valve is going to open!" John shouted back.
Bill opened the sanders some more, shooting the dry coarse sand under the 12 massive 61" inch high drivers. The engine gave a jerk and began to roll forward, the couplers began to clank as the slack was removed and the speed climbed to 10 mph as John began to ring the bell as they pulled out onto the north yard lead. The operators high in the yard tower heard the cry of 6003 as she began to roll north along the yard lead and they started pulling the tall Armstrong levers lining up the switches to route train #26 onto the northbound main track. The big engine moaned as she curved through the turnouts, her big drivers pounding the rails as they picked up more speed. Bill took his running orders out of his overalls chest pocket and placed them on a wire hook in front of his gauges as they approached the yard tower. Bill yanked the whistle cord, sounding a low mournful cry over the yards and to the nearby passenger and freight depot. The semaphore blade controlling the northbound track raised from red to green, giving Bill the signal the track was clear to the next station ahead, Norfield, 15 miles to the north. Bill pulled back on the throttle, sending more superheated steam into the cylinders as he turned the valve closed to the cylinder cocks after clearing them of the cooled water that had built up while 6003 sat there steaming. The heavy echo of the steam exhaust floated up to the open windows of the yard tower as the workers noted the time of departure, 9:05 AM, into the logbook for May 17th, 1930. Station agents were wired ahead of the extra length of the train for all others to take the sidings, giving priority over to train #26. The only train that train 26 did not have priority over was the Southbound Cannonball #1 named the New Orleans Special.
The boys heard Bill blast for the signal to proceed and they felt the jerk as the caboose went from sitting still to 10 mph in an instant. They were thrown back against the leather of the high backed chairs with looks of surprise and amazement and, as the train picked up speed, by the time caboose 600 passed the yard tower the gauge was showing 20 MPH. "Damn, I see Bill got the hang of 6003," Joe said as he leaned back in the chair smiling, "next scheduled stop is Jackson." The telegraph poles soon were passing in a blur as the train continued to pick up more speed as Bill continued to increase the throttle and John worked the valves feeding the massive 110 square foot firebox. Jamie kept trying to stick his head out of the open window to look out, only to get his eyes full of smoke and cinders.
"Jamie, if you keep sticking your neck out that window it will look as if you never took a proper shower this morning,." Joe said as he winked at the boy.
"Yes sir, Joe, I will just lay on Sean and go to sleep again, how's that?" Jamie replied as he rubbed his blue eyes to remove the cinders.
"Go right ahead and lay on that hard chest, we don't care, do we, Scott?" Joe winked.
"No, we don't, Joe, we are beginning to piece this together a little bit at a time, and we know that you two love each other more than friends."
"UHHH.....Wha... you...mean.. Scott?" Sean stammered.
"Calm down, boys, just calm down and let me finish, OK."
"OK, Scott." Jamie said, the fear showing in his blue eyes.
"Sean and Jamie, Joe and I figured it out last night that y'all two had moved from being close friends from the moment you two met to being in love with each other,. The walls of the YMCA is not as thick as you think and we heard the playing and fooling around last night. Your secret is safe with us and John and Bill, we all know, and there is nothing wrong with it, but many don't approve of it in this world, so you must be careful of your actions in public, we won't always be around to protect you two from trouble. I guess it is time to let out one of my secrets and he might hate me for it but it is time I told Joseph here, yes, you, Joe, something I have wanted to say for almost three long years. Joe, I love you more than a friend, I love you like Jamie loves Sean."
There was silence in the caboose except for the click clack of wheels on rail and the rumble of the car itself as Sean looked at Jamie and they both looked over at the silent Joe and the the nervous Scott, Sean wrapped his arms around Jamie and they waited to hear the answer.
Joe turned to look at Scott, then smiled. "I have been waiting three years to hear that. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. The moment I stepped off that train at the Jackson station." Joe pulled his companion into a hug as two smiles shone like silver dollars at the two older men who were now hugging.
"UMM.. Joe, is it ok if I do this now in front of you guys?" Sean asked.
The two men turned in time to see Sean lean over and plant a small kiss on Jamie's pink lips and they smiled. Just as Bill sounded the whistle for Norfield...
Hello, Dear Readers, Sorry for taking so long with chapter 8 and I hope it lives up to the others. As I have said at the end of No Greater Love, I have been on vacation out west in Texas and life has been quite busy for me. On Monday July 2nd, I learned a dear Railroading friend of mine who lived in Forth Worth, Texas, passed on. I was so close yet so far away. Walter, I shall miss you, my dear friend, and I know you're riding those golden rails in Heaven with Casey and #382.
Stephen W.
July 6th, 2001
I must thank Ed for his work on this and all my chapters. Hat's off to you, dear friend.
I must thank Peter for shedding a little light on my darkest nights as I work and write and just need a friend. I must thank all my other friends as well, thank you, dear ones, thank you. I must thank Julio for editing the text on my Civil War pages. Thank you my dear friend.
I love to hear your comments as always at Swarri1349@aol.com
and my home on the web is located at: http://swarri1349.tripod.com/ The door is always open so come on in.