ScareCrow

It was a hot muggy, hardworking kind of day. The birds were hurrying as fast as their humming cousin, the cows were eating as much grass as they could fit in their mouths. And a man covered in coal particulates was shoveling as quick as his rapid heart beat could take him. “Shoveling, Shoveling”, the man though to himself. “RYE!” yelled an older gentleman, “take a break! I’m afraid you’ll accidentally be part of the trains coal, come over here and get a drink of water.With the thought of cool crisp water, Rye shut the furnace’s door and quickly took off his gloves and placed them on a nearby shelf.

Lanky but strong, Rye hobbled over to the other end of the front car. He wore a pair of blue overalls, though black in color it was at this time. He had dirty blond hair unkempt and wild under a stripped hat of blue and white. His undershirt was black, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He grabbed a canteen from the older gentleman. “Thanks Gramps” Rye uttered softly under a brow of sweat. “Sit down boy, no point in killing yourself over work, its only a part of life ya know”. Gramps looked thankfully over hisGrandson, who was now sitting cross legged on the floor of the mightiest, strangest, and best delivery train the America West had every known.

Rye swigged veraciously, each gulp of water sounding like a waterfall traveling off a cliff into a dry patch of desert. “I love water”, Rye uttered as he sprawled out on the metal floor. Gramps wasn’t sprawled, but he was always sitting, as the conductor of said train he was responsible for making sure the hunk of metal arrived to every station, and on time. His chair was of the cheapest of ores, and his control desk made up of a variety of levers and chords. The trip was planned and running on schedule, and that made Gramps very happy.

Rye now crossed his leg over another and put both his hands behind his head in a resting position. “How much longer?” Rye asked. Gramps swung his chair around still holding onto a chord,“about an hour or so, thats if you keep shoveling like you are”. Rye gave a slight grin, “yeah”.Rye had memorized the time it took for goods to be delivered from one end of the Oregon state to the other. He knew his package was in one of cars, and he was excited to open it. He couldn’t currently because it went against policy, those who deliver can’t open what they were delivering until it got delivered to them.

Technicalities aside, his brand new leather jacket was waiting for him, and he hadn’t saved so long for it to be forgotten about now.

In the midst of thought,Rye didn’t think of the jostling pile of coal next to him. A lump would fall off once in a while, but Gramps blamed it on the vibration of the train rolling down the metallic highway. From underneath the small hill of potential energy splurged out a great explosion in the shape of a blonde.

The coal popped into any crevasse they could find as they sped through out the front car. Rye shot back up to his feet, Gramps morphed into unusual and biologically impossible old man forms as he dodged the flying rubble.From out of the pile of black, laughed a young woman holding her gut as she scanned the faces of the two terrified men. “You little-!” screamed Gramps, but was stopped mid sentence by Rye’s calloused hands. “Livey, you know how close Gramps is to the grave, don’t be giving him too much excite-” Rye this time was stopped mid sentence, not by Gramp’s hand per say, but his fist. Rye fell quickly to the ground and let out a yelp of pain, “owowowowow” he mumbled as he held the back of his head, being the target of Gramp’s projectile. “You blasted girl I told ya, no sneaking onboard! You want to get us all fired?!” Gramps sternly spoke as Livey still was laughing. “I was just so boooored waiting for ya’ll at the station.I’ve explored all over that confounded wilderness and didn’t have much to do”. Gramps sighed, “if you just worked for us-“.

Livey waved her hand in the air, swatting Gramp’s comment away as she left the conductor’s room towards another car. Gramps continued mumbling to himself. Rye knew the grumpier gramps would be, the hungrier he was. “Isn’t it close enough to lunch time that we should eat soon?” Spoke Rye still laying on the ground. Gramps gave out a sigh “Yeah, might as well, its pretty much a straight shot from here back to the station, we can eat now”.

Outside of the train’s window hung a sack placed in a mesh metal bin which contained the tin lunch pails of the workers on the train. Rye grabbed speedily the mesh bin and placed it vertically on the floor of the cabin.Gramps then tugged the rope that rang the train’s horn 3 distinct times for about 3 seconds spacing for each horn honk. Sounds of feet stepping on metal could be heard louder and longer after the 3rd horn was sounded. The door to the conductor’s cabin opened, and in came two men, one with the chin of a peach’s curves, and the other with a head as bald and shiny as a new shoe.These were Jeremiah and Kirby, workers on the middle half of the train’s cars.

Jeremiah ran quickly to the mesh basket and removed his pail from the pile. “No day is as exciting as this brethern”, he said as he excitingly opened the lock on the pail. Out of said container he pulled out a sealed leather case. “You smell that? Good, cause its ALL mine”,Jeremiah giggled his usual high pitched squeal of glee. Kirby, unlike Jeremiah, remained quiet but smiled at Jeremiah’s comment, while also grabbing his own lunch. “I’m good with bologna” saidKirby, as he sat down and starting devouring said sandwich, mustard coming out of the front and landing on his overalls. “Shoot”,said Kirby in response to the yellow sludge. Jeremiah continued laughing. Gramps and Rye sat on the ground next to the basket, having at this point, also opened and starting eating their lunches.

“What you got there?“asked Gramps to Jeremiah with a monotone voice. Jeremiah, before answering took another slurp with the spoon he was eating from.“Gumbo, a southern one”. Gramps nodded and than asked, “anyOkra in there?” Jeremiah talked while he slurped, “half of the whole thing”. Everyone knew Jeremiah was the most exotic in his lunches, so the conversations around lunch usually started with asking what he had made or brought. “Let me guess your guy’s eateries” pointing first to Rye, “PB&J”? Rye, still having a mouth full of jam tried to speak, but his mouth was glued shut by the effect of the peanut butter. Continuing his win streak of successfully made meals guessing, Jeremiah than continued, “and you of course have Bologna, and you bran pudding with vegetables”. No one responded, but everyone knew Jeremiah was right on the money.

“Wheres Livey?” AskedKirby. Gramps looking surprised responded, “You knew she was on here the whole time?!” Kirby nodded, “She always comes onWednesdays”. Mouth still full of bran, Gramps furrowed his brow,“Theres a pattern? Why haven’t you told me by now?!” Kirby, showing as little emotion as usual, responded to Gramp’s question as well as the sea responding to a volcano’s eruption, cooling the feelings pronounced from Gramp’s lips. “She’s fun to have around, if we told ya she would be-”

“Canned” Jeremiah blurted after finishing his last spoon full. “Yeah” agreed Kirby.“Anyways, she’ll come when she wants”, Kirby finishing his sentence, replied. At this point everyone had finished their lunch and now were putting their equipment back on to work some more. No matter the communication of the time, Rye couldn’t stop thinking about his mail, arriving sooner and stronger, than he would ever know.