Chapter 5: I'm Your Partner, Mister

Meeks opens his eyes. He remembers he’s in the boxcar. Before him the world slides by through the partially drawn boxcar door. He feels the constant gentle lurching of the train beneath him. He rises to a sitting position and scans the colorless countryside and he touches his wounded shoulder.

There is a makeshift bandage there. His neck wound has been cleaned. He draws his gun. Someone skitters toward the back of the boxcar. A shadow.

Meeks waves his gun in that direction. “Get out of there.”

The shadow tiptoes into the light. It’s a skinny guy in his early twenties with unruly red hair and frightened eyes.

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Stevie Beal. I wasn’t doing nothin’.”

“How long you been there?”

“Few days. Since before you got here.”

Meeks glances at the bandage on his shoulder. It’s an old rag that is now blood soaked.

“You did this?”

“It was bleedin’ pretty bad. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Got any water?”

Beal reaches behind him and tosses a weathered canteen to Meeks. Meeks opens it and sniffs it then takes a drink.

“That belonged to an uncle,” Beal says. “He was a soldier.”

Meeks only watches the boy.

“He died,” Beal says. “Killed a lot of men, though. Said he liked it.”

Meeks leans forward. The silver dollar necklace slips out of his shirt and dangles there. Beal’s eyes lock onto it and it makes Meeks uncomfortable.

“You on the run?” Beal asks.

Meeks drinks from the canteen but he isn’t answering. Beal inches closer. Meeks touches his gun and Beal stops.

“I’m runnin’,” Beal says. “Goin’ south. Think this train goes all the way to Mexico?”

Meeks scrutinizes the kid. “Maybe.”

“Well that’s where I’m going anyway. I’m runnin’. Runnin’ like hell. That’s right. Run all the way to Hell if I have to.”

Meeks only looks out the door at the pale grasses moving by.

“Want to know why?” Beal asks.

Meeks offers a stone cold stare and Beal’s face twists with disappointment. Meeks suddenly droops with exhaustion.

“I like that pendant,” Beal says. “How much you want for it?”

Meeks snarls and slips the silver dollar back into his shirt. His head sags and his eyes slip.

“You okay, mister?”

Meeks turns away and his head lolls. Beal skitters to him and gives him a shake.

“Mister?”

Meeks is falling. Beal reaches into Meeks’ shirt and pulls out the necklace. He lets the silver dollar dangle from his fingers as he looks at it. Meeks’ hand is like lightning. He snatches the kid’s neck in his grip.

“You steal anything…”

“I was just lookin’, I swear.”

Meeks shoves the kid back.

“I’m here to help,” Beal says. “Swear to God and sunny Jesus. I’m your partner, mister. Headin’ to Mexico. Me and you.”

You’re not my damned partner.”

Beal leans forward and his eyes are filled with tears. “Please, mister. I’m real afraid. Mexico’s a long ways away and…”

Meeks’ eyes thin. He head begins to droop again. He grabs his necklace.

“I think this train is haunted,” Beal says.

Meeks falls back and can’t help but sleep but he hears the sounds. Whispers. Voices. Far away. Somewhere.

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