All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky by Lansdale Joe R

Author:Lansdale, Joe R. [Lansdale, Joe R.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780375897481
Publisher: Delacorte Books for Young Readers
Published: 2011-09-12T16:00:00+00:00

27

Back in camp, we ate the sandwiches and the stew. We gave our spare cup to Boxcar Bertha, and she gave us all some pieces of peppermint that looked as if they might have been sucked on before and had lint on them.

We ate them anyway.

We sang songs and talked, and Jimbo told ghost stories about headless men, and haints that came out of brick walls when you passed and grabbed you and took you with them inside the wall and mixed up your insides and turned your feet around so that when you was put back, you had to walk backwards.

I don’t know I believe in ghosts, but I sure like stories about them. The ones Jimbo told, or maybe it was the way he told them, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up like hog bristles. That night I dreamed me and Jane and Tony were walking along in the dark next to a long and very tall brick wall. We walked and then we heard something. We turned to look, and it was Bad Tiger and Timmy, stepping right out of the bricks. They grabbed us and pulled us into the wall. I woke up panting, and it took me a good while to get back to sleep. I didn’t dream about the wall or Bad Tiger and Timmy anymore, but I sure remembered the dream when I woke up.

Next morning, except for us and Floyd, everyone else stayed in camp. Bertha had a later train to catch, and I don’t know what the others had plans to do, or if they had plans at all. They didn’t strike me as folks with someplace to be at any certain time.

We packed out of there, and as we walked toward the trainyard, Jane stepped along beside Floyd. She said, “Thanks for helping us last night. That was something.”

“It wasn’t anything. They brought a knife to a gunfight.”

“Would you have used that gun?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But would you?”

“If I had to.”

“Have you used it before?” she asked.

“You might be a mite too curious. What are you, a cat?”

“I just like to know things,” she said. “I’m going to be a reporter.”

“Girls do that?”

“I don’t know about girls,” Jane said, “but women do. And if they don’t, I’m going to do it anyway.”

“I bet you will,” Floyd said.

Pretty soon we could see some cars parked along the street. Across the way, we could see train tracks and the railyard. On some of the tracks were a few boxcars, none of them hooked to engines.

All of a sudden, Floyd pulled us up behind one of the cars.

“I’m going to take a guess here,” he said, “and figure ain’t none of you kids caught a train before.”

“That’s a good guess,” I said.

“Well now,” Floyd said. “First thing you got to watch for is the bulls.”

“Bulls?” Jane said. “You mean like cattle?”

“No. I mean the train bulls. They’re like cops for the trainyard. They can be mighty mean. They don’t want you on those trains, and they might just snap a nightstick upside your head.

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