1
Ryan
I swallowedhard and pushed myself upright so I could listen better. My head was congested so I opened my mouth to breathe easier. I gripped my loose pants while my hand clutched the shirt against my stomach. My heart pounded and my eyes searched the pitch-dark open field that was in front of me.
I hated it out here.
But, he’d be back soon. He said he would. He said that it wouldn’t be like last time. So far, it had been though. The four men had been around. They laughed and teased me.
He’d be back soon though. He promised.
My stomach started to make noise and I brought my other hand up to press against it. I didn’t want the coyotes to hear. Dad said they wandered the field beyond the train yard and that I needed to always be quiet.
Maybe I needed to eat something. Even though I didn’t feel hungry, maybe I was and just didn’t know it. I got up on my knees and stretched my neck to see if I could see the top of the desk. The last man left me a package of crackers on the desk. He said I could have them if I got hungry while I waited for Dad. I held my stomach as I quietly stood and tiptoed to the desk. I tore the package open and the two saltines flew from the cellophane. I caught them against my legs before they hit the floor of the boxcar.
I was afraid to chew the crackers because it would make noise, so I pressed the cracker to the roof of my mouth and when they were moist enough, I slowly chewed. When the big pieces of the crackers were gone, I sat back down and leaned against the cold metal wall of the boxcar. Across from where I sat was the side of the door that always remained open.
I stared at the open field, wide awake until the black sky turned to light. I had stayed another night in the boxcar. That was two nights now. When I realized this, I felt the burning lump form at the back of my throat right before my eyes got watery. I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my cold hands and covered my face so the coyotes wouldn’t hear me.
He promised me this time would be different.
He promised me that he wouldn’t leave me.
He promised he’d be right back.
I brought my head up when I heard footsteps crunching on the gravel outside.
“Please be my dad,” I mumbled.
I scampered into a crouched position and held onto the side of a wooden trunk that was next to me for balance. As the footsteps grew louder, I began to rapidly chant under my breath, “Please be Dad, please be Dad.”
A man appeared on the step and reached both arms out to take hold of the handles by the open door. It wasn’t Dad. I began to panic again. The man lowered his head and spit a wad of dark stuff onto the step.
No!
“You Brian Hudson’s boy?” the man asked as he stepped up and into the boxcar.
His body was blurred as he walked toward me.
“Huh? Can’t you hear? I’m talking to you, boy,” he snapped.
I curled up as tight as I could.
I bolted up in bed with my hand on my stomach gripping my t-shirt. My heart was pounding and my hand shook as I flipped the light on. I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand and pulled up my contacts. My finger hovered over Russell’s name. Could I talk if I hit send?
No, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to. But I felt crippled right now; I needed him. I thought about getting out of bed to try and shake this off myself. I threw back the damp sheet and then stopped. Russell would want me to call, or text. He was okay with texts if it was something that I couldn’t say. Minutes passed and I still held my phone in my hands.
“Grow some balls,” I said under my breath as I hit the ‘call’ button.
Russell’s deep voice vibrated through the phone and washed over me.
“Ryan?”
“Mmhmm…I’m sorry,” I said.
I instantly felt guilty for calling him. I closed my eyes at my lack of consideration for the time. I didn’t even know what time it was exactly. I looked at the clock on the nightstand; 12:43 a.m.
“Why are you apologizing, my boy?”
