Chapter 4

Here we go, workin’ on the railroad. Never expected to find myself here, but guess I’ll make the best of it.

As he climbed the steps to enter the car to which he’d been assigned, he started whistling the latest Bob Seger song. Maybe some Garth Brooks or Kenny Chesney would be better, but he happened to like Seger. He didn’t know what Chicano guys listened to these days, but probably about the same things he did. Rock was pretty universal. As if to prove him right, a radio suddenly blared inside the car—Bruce Springsteen singing “Born in the USA.” He switched to that tune mid-whistle. 2