Date: Fri, 3 Nov 2000 23:52:57 EST
From: SWarri1349@aol.com
Subject: HIGH IRON chapter 4 Gay/ Historical

			    HIGH IRON CHAPTER 4

        Sean looked at the blonde haired, blue eyed boy for a long moment,
then reached out his hand and took it in his own. Scott, Joe, John, and Bill
looked at the two and smiled. To Joe it looked like an instant friendship
was born.

        "I'm Sean, very nice to meet you, Jamie."

        "It's nice to meet you too, Sean." Jamie smiled, his sea blue eyes
sparkling at the friendship and the warmth he saw in the green-brown eyes of
the older boy.

        While the two boys looked each other over, the train crew compared
watches for the proper time. John and Bill started walking toward the
panting locomotive, the excess steam shooting out of her pistons and a
feather of steam rose from her generator. Jamie and Sean talked about why
they were both riding the rods on a freight train.

        Joe walked over to the boys. "Time to mount the caboose, boys.
We're heading out." Scott already was lighting the big marker lamps on the
rear of the caboose. Joe put an arm around each of the boys' shoulders and
the three started toward the caboose. Scott watched Joe walking between the
two teens; he felt pangs of jealousy, for he loved Joe in a special way. The
thing was, if his grandfather the preacher ever learned that, he would be
condemned to hell's fires by his entire family. Scott wondered about Joe
and how he felt. Scott had watched Joe for three years now, the same length
of time they had worked together on the railroad as a team with John and
Bill. Joe, like Scott, did not have a wife or girlfriend at home like Bill
and John did, and often they were ragged about it from the two men who did.

        Scott kept his thoughts to himself; he knew in his heart that Joe
had a special place for young boys and teens that extended past those of
normal male friendship in society. Scott knew that, even if Sean was lying
through his teeth about his past, Sean would not have been kicked off the
train. Joe had that glimmer in his eyes again.

        Sean and Jamie mounted the caboose steps, followed closely by Joe.
The two teens leaned against the rail as Scott leaned out on the right rear
step and swung the green hand lantern in a high arching circle, giving Bill
the high ball signal.

        Bill pulled the whistle cord, sounding a long blast signaling the
train's departure from the yards. The big drivers gripped the rail with the
help of the sand shooting onto the rails from the sandboxes. The heavy
freight pulled out onto the main line. Scott and Joe entered the caboose,
leaving Sean and Jamie propped against the rear rail on the rear platform
alone. Scott was about to tell the boys to come inside the caboose but Joe
told him to let the boys stay where they were for now.

        Sean did not think to warn Jamie about the sudden jerk when the
caboose, being the last car of the sixty-car freight, jerked into motion,
going from sitting still to 15 miles per hour instantly. Sean, who had hung
around the railyard all his life, could tell as he listened to the slack
between the cars tighten up with each jerk of the couplers. As the noise
got louder, he tightened his grip on the rear rail.

        When the jerk came, Jamie was not ready. Sean had tightened his
grip on the railing of the rear platform. Jamie was deep in thought when
the power and force of the jerk slammed him against the railing. Sean
instantly reached out and grabbed him before he completely lost his
balance. Sean held the shaken boy in his arms and pulled him close to his
chest. "I got ya, Jamie," Sean spoke into the boy's right ear.

        "I know you do, Sean, don't let go just yet. I need a friend to
hold me now." Jamie spoke softly in a low whisper as if he was scared to
say those words to another boy.

        Sean wrapped his strong arms tighter around the young shivering
boy. A bond of friendship was born that instant on the rear platform of a
caboose on a speeding train racing through the night.

        Joe and Scott were sitting in the angels' seats in the caboose,
talking about the events of the night that changed a normal trip into one
filled with mystery and adventure for two teens.

        "Joe, what are we going to tell the guys at McComb about those two
boys who are riding with us?"

        Joe smiled, "Not a damned thing, we'll think of something when we
get there. As far as I am concerned, they are cousins of mine. I know it
will be at least a two-hour layover but it will be in the middle of the
night. They will be asleep by then." Joe clicked on the little electric
lamp above his head and clicked open his gold pocket watch - 9:45 PM.
They would be in McComb by 12 midnight if not sooner. He closed his pocket
watch and clicked off the little lamp. As he sat there looking out into the
darkness lit by the half full moon, he thought about his past relationships.
He had many friends, Scott being his best in his life of 21 years. They
were strangers when they met at the IC railroad station on Mill Street in
Jackson three years ago. The year was 1927, the US was booming, the
railroads moving ahead full steam.

        That sunny spring day would change his life. As Joe and Scott rode
in the caboose, Scott lightly dozing, his head bobbing to the rhythm of the
rocking car, Joe smiled and let himself drift back to that spring day of
May 5th, 1927. He had just graduated from high school the week before. He,
like many of his other friends, was trying to figure out what to do in life
now. A lot of his friends took up the trades of their fathers - farming,
working in the cotton gin, the local stores, and other industries in the
rural south.

        On the Sunday night before, his father suggested that he catch the
local to Jackson and to apply for a job on the railroad. So, early the next
morning he stepped aboard the three-car local and settled down in the plush
armchair of the Pullman and headed to Jackson. On that first day the rails
were silent, that day they did not speak to the fresh 18-year old boy, so
Joe slept, leaned back in the red chair. The elderly conductor, who knew the
boy to be a son of a railroader, let him slumber, never asking for the heavy
cardboard pass he held in his hand.

        Joe wondered why his father sent him to Jackson and not to Memphis
which was closer to Grenada. Later he knew why. Joe continued to slumber as
the local chuffed through the Mississippi landscape, stopping along the way,
the conductor calling out the stations: Duck Hill, Winona, West, Durant,
Goodman, Pickens, Vaughan, Way, Canton, and finally Jackson. He stepped down
from the last car at the large brick two-story station. At the same time, he
landed eyes on Scott. The boy looked to be about the same age as he was,
with dark hair and pale white skin. As Joe walked closer, he noticed more of
the teen, the smooth rounded jaw, the slender nose, and the pencil thin
eyebrows, then there were those hazel eyes. Scott saw Joe looking at him but
did not turn away. Instead he smiled at Joe and started walking toward him
along the brick and concrete platform. Soon they stood face to face. Joe was
the first to speak.

        "Hello, I am Joe," and stuck out his right hand.

        The boy smiled and in a soft but firm voice replied, "I am Scott,
nice to meet you, Joe." They shook hands and they both felt an electric
shock pass through their bodies as the two soft, smooth hands touched.

        "So, Scott, what brings you to Jackson?"

        "I live here. My dad works for the IC. So what you doing in
Jackson, Joe?"

        "My father sent me down here from Grenada to see about getting a
job on the Railroad. He is a track inspector."

        Joe and Scott both would know when the steel rails would begin to
whisper, then speak in loud tones, and, once the rails spoke to the two
boys, they would never let go.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

        The long blast from the whistle brought Joe out of his memories. He
knew that call and he knew it well. Scott at the same time jumped at the
sound of the warning cry. Joe reached over and grasped the emergency air
valve and turned it all the way. The brakes began to scream as they heated
up, trying to bring the train to a stop.

        "SHIT, WHERE ARE THE BOYS?" shouted Scott as he scrambled down the
iron rungs of the ladder and raced to the back platform of the caboose. Joe
was not far behind.

        "COME ON, OLD BOY, SIT DOWN!" shouted Bill to his engine while John
closed the firebox door.  Bill jumped from his seat and closed the throttle
with one hand and began to raise the heavy Johnson bar out of its slot and
slam it in reverse while the engine brakes locked tight against the wheels,
throwing flames of sparks from the wheels and into the night. John jumped
to the gangway and hung his head out into the night. He saw what lay ahead;
a large oak tree had fallen off the embankment and onto the tracks ahead.
He raced to the tender and began turning the brake wheel, setting the hand
brakes on the tender. He felt the jolt as each car behind closed in and
slammed the tender with a crash. He thought for a brief moment, 'I hope to
God the boys in the crummy are holding on tight, because this is going to
be one hell of a ride.'

        The headlight shone down the tracks and the large tree was moving
closer by the second. With each turn of the driving wheels, the heavy train
was slowing, but not fast enough. If only he could get it slow enough that,
if he hit the tree, they would not derail. Bill wiped the sweat out of his
eyes as he watched the tree looming ahead. "John, you might better jump if
you see a chance because ain't no way we stopping before we hit that damned
tree," shouted Bill.

        "Bill, I am not jumping from this engine, no sir." John sat back
down in the fireman's seat and braced himself for the impact of the tree
with old 1200, while on the other side of the cab Bill did the same.

        Scott reached the rear door of the caboose and yanked it open. He
saw the two boys holding onto each other and looking pale. The jerk from
the slack as the brakes kicked in full force had slammed both of them
against the wall of the caboose. Scott grabbed both of the boys and pulled
them inside the caboose. Joe helped them inside and led them toward the
bunks. "Sean, you take this bunk, lay down on your back and brace your feet
against the rail at the end. Jamie, you take the other and do the same
thing. NOW, Boys! Sean and Jamie jumped on the bunks and followed Joe's
orders while Joe and Scott reached above their heads and grabbed the long
iron rod running from one end of the car to the other. Seconds passed.

        "BRACE YOURSELF, JOHN!" shouted Bill over the roar of the screaming
brakes and the clack of rails. The train had slowed down to about 20 MPH
but both men in the cab prayed it was enough because they were out of clear
track to do any more.

        1200 slammed into the large oak tree. Limbs flew in the air as if a
tornado had gripped them, metal screamed as bolts ripped and bent, the front
coupler snapped and fell to the track below as limbs snapped off the white
marker lamps high on the smoke box, glass shattered as the engine plowed
through the tree.  The massive drivers ground the tree like fresh meat in a
grinder. Bill and John were thrown back in their seats when the engine hit.
The tree moaned and bent, then snapped from the force of steel and steam.
Old 1200 held the rails and the train continued to slow. John released the
tender hand brake and sat heavily down in his seat, his face covered in
sweat.

        Joe felt the impact and heard the crash and gripped the iron rail
tighter. Scott was watching the two boys lying on the bunks, braced, their
faces pale from fright. Then came the collision as the slack bunched up,
slamming forward into the other cars. Jamie was thrown from his bunk and
into the floor where the wood bit into his skin on his face and hands. Sean
held on and managed to stay in the bunk while Scott tried to stay on his
feet. Joe braced his feet wide apart with his boots touching the stove on one
side and the desk on the other. The train slowed, then stopped.

        "Jamie, Jamie, you OK, my friend?" It was Sean leaning over him,
whispering in his ear as the older teen brushed the blond hair out of the
boy's eyes.

        "Scott, go up front and find out what happened while I grab the red
lantern and go back to protect our rear."

        "OK, Joe, will do."

        "Sean, you take care of Jamie. Here, let's get him off the floor
and onto the bunk." Sean and Joe picked up Jamie and placed him on the bunk
where Sean had braced himself.

        "Don't worry, Jamie, Sean will take good care of you. Come on,
Scott let's get those lanterns and flares lit." Joe was about ready to walk
out the rear door when he remembered the air valve. He walked to the space
below the cupola and reached up and released it. Joe walked by and tousled
the boy's hair and headed out the door after reaching into the flag rack
and grabbing two flares.

        Scott had lit both lanterns and handed the red one to Joe while he
put the clear one in the crook of his arm and climbed down onto the slag
ballast of the track. He started off toward the front of the train and the
locomotive. Joe walked toward the rear of the train till he was about a
quarter mile from the caboose. The big rear markers burned in the distance
and the soft glow of the lamps shone from the door and windows. He took the
cap off the first flare and struck it; the flare lit and he placed it
between the rails.

        Scott continued forward, working his way ahead, looking at the
wheels and smelling the hot grease. He wondered what in the hell went wrong
until he almost stumbled and fell over what was left of the oak tree. He
looked and shook his head in disbelief when he saw the glass and bent metal
lying on the track, what was left of the pilot and the marker lights on the
front of 1200. He continued on. He saw the headlight of 1200 shining out in
front onto clear rails and Bill and John standing, looking at the
locomotive.

        Sean looked down and into the eyes of Jamie, where tears were
beginning to run down his face. Sean reached down and grasped Jamie's hand
in his, being careful not to hurt the boy any more than he already was
hurting.

        "Jamie, my friend, please don't cry. I am here for you. Let me get
a cloth and some cool water and clean you up." Sean walked over to the sink
and pulled down a clean cloth and then over to the metal water cooler where
he wet the cloth under the icy stream. Sean wrung the cloth out and walked
back over to Jamie, where he slowly wiped away the grime, sweat, and tears
from Jamie's angelic face. Sean sat down on the edge of the bunk and gently
took each one of Jamie's hands and washed them, removing the dirt and what
little blood that was on them, caused by the impact with the hardwood floor
of the caboose. Sean then took the cloth and washed Jamie's neck, letting
the cool water do its magic. Jamie smiled at Sean, looking into his
greenish-brown eyes and at the dark flowing hair, the olive skin that
seemed to glow under the yellow lamplight. Jamie wanted to reach out and
touch Sean but as he began to lift his hand, visions still fresh of Lord
Oliver came to his mind and he drew back. Jamie did not know what to think
or do about the mixed emotions racing through his brain. Everything in his
mind told him to just get up and run, then in a corner of his mind he heard
another voice that said, 'Trust the one looking over you.' Jamie decided he
would trust this new voice.

        Sean continued his cleansing of the boy who lay before him, washing
his arms, trying to soothe the pain. All of it he knew did not come from
the jar of the caboose when it slammed into the rest of the train. There
was something deeper inside Jamie, a ghost from the past, maybe? What was
this ghost? What made this boy run away from home in the first place? Did
he even have a home to run from?

        "Sean, Sean, you there? What is wrong?" Jamie's soft voice asked.

        Sean was just sitting there, looking down at Jamie's wrist and
where he noticed the rope burn. Who did this to this sweet boy? A boy no
more than 15 years old, maybe younger.

        "Sean," Jamie called and he brushed his hand against Sean's face,
feeling the warm skin.

        Sean looked into the blue eyes of Jamie and saw his puzzled
expression. "What, Jamie?"

        "You planning on holdin' my hand all night or do you have a ring
to put on my finger?"

        Sean replied without thinking, "If I had a ring, I would put it on
your hand."

        Jamie's eyes darkened with fear as the haunting image of Lord
Oliver came flooding back into his mind. He tried to pull away but was
trapped between Sean on the outside of the narrow bunk and the wall on the
other side.

        Sean was fast to react to the sudden fright of Jamie. "What's
wrong, Jamie? Did I say something wrong, did I hurt you? Please tell me."

        Tears swelled up in Jamie's eyes as he tried his best to pull back
from Sean and melt into nothingness. How could he tell Sean what he had
gone through in that hotel room with Lord Oliver? He did not know. Jamie
sighed and just lay there with the tears leaking down his face. He knew
that Sean had seen the red marks from the braided rope on his pale skin
and there was no explanation for them but one. The dark truth of why he was
running from everything that he knew about and at one time loved. He knew
that he could not run from his past, no matter how hard he wanted to. The
firm grip of the olive-colored hand continued to send a warmth into his
heart that he had never felt before now. His brain told him it was a trick,
his heart told him it was friendship. Jamie was torn between his memories
and of the feelings he was feeling now. Could he trust Sean? Could he trust
anyone with his past? So much had happened in such a brief time that he did
not know if he could even trust himself.

        Sean let go of Jamie's hand and moved closer to the face half
covered in the straw-blonde hair and the sea blue eyes that were draining
the pain and sorrow trapped inside. Sean wiped Jamie's face with the cloth,
then gently sat Jamie up and he moved around behind the boy and wrapped his
arms around him and just held him. Jamie felt the strong arms circle his
chest and felt the warmth, the friendship, but most of all he felt safe for
the first time in many years. To most people home was a safe haven from the
outside world; to him it was hell. A mother he never saw and drunken father
who enjoyed beating him and degrading him as worthless. An older nameless
brother he never met. A dark past that wanted to haunt him forever. Sean
cradled Jamie in his arms, not saying a word. He held Jamie with loving
care as if he was his own brother. Maybe Jamie was a godsend from Heaven.
He knew there was a strong heart and powerful soul, only Sean had to find
the key.

        The moon hung in the sky behind a bank of clouds as Bill looked at
1200. The headlight was dimmer without the extra glass that the fallen oak
had shattered on impact. There was a gaping hole where the front coupler
once pointed out like a ram of an ironclad. The foot boards had been ripped
away and only the steel hangers were left. Bill pulled his bandanna out of
his back pocket and wiped his face, his eyes almost misty as he looked at
his proud locomotive with his bloodied nose. John walked around 1200,
looking at the wheels to see if anything was hung under the two pilot
wheels. They looked free, the big drivers had ground up the tree so there
was no worry there. He could only hope that the brakes and the reversing of
the engine did not leave flat spots carved into the steel tires. Yes, John
knew that 1200 was nothing but a machine built of iron and steel and fired
by coal and water, but he wanted to weep. They had came so close to death
and he felt it in his still racing heart as he thought about his wife and
newborn son at home. What would they do without him there? He slowly walked
along the crushed rock and cinders to the tender, shining his lantern,
looking at the wheels and smelling the hot grease. He knew that Bill was
thinking the same thing as he was. John saw the clear lantern approaching
on the other side and knew it was Scott, coming to inspect the damage done.
He walked around to meet him. The three men gathered in the glow of the
headlight. It was time to decide what to do next.

        "I'm sure glad to see both of you in one piece. That was quite a
scare you caused." Scott smiled; it was all he could do. He now could put
his fears to rest about either of them being hurt or killed. After all,
they were a band of brothers bound together by iron and steel, but sealed
with a friendship.

        "Well, it was a lot damned worse up here on the front end, you lazy
damned rear brakie!" John smiled back and slapped his friend on the back.
They turned to look at Bill. "It's not that bad, old man. Old 1200 here is
solid as a rock; he just got his nose a little bloody, that's all. Damn,
you look like you want to cry."

        Bill looked over to John and Scott and wiped his face. "I got
cinders in me eyes, that's all," and smiled. "How did our boys do?"

        "Well, Sean did fine but the crash sent Jamie tumbling to the floor,
nothin real bad. He's got some scrapes and scratches on him but nothing to
worry about. Do know it scared the shit out of 'em and you know Joe, he just
took charge, snapped him out his daydream. I think your encounter with that
fuckin' tree disturbed our boys more when they was on the back platform; the
brakes gave em a scare but I scared them even worse by opening the door and
they still hold'n each other and drug 'em inside the hack."

        "I got to check the water, boys. I can't have old 1200 to blow his
boiler." John walked toward the gangway and climbed the steps. Bill and
Scott heard the clang of the fireman's shovel as John built up the fire and
the hiss of steam as the cool water mixed with the steam already there.

        Bill turned to Scott. "We have a small problem - If old 1200 is fit
enough to travel, which we will find out in a few minutes. It is either to
back up to Hammond and telegraph ahead that we need a new engine or we
could ease ahead to Kentwood."

        "Which is closer, Hammond or Kentwood?"

        "Kentwood," replied Bill.

        "Do we have any more trains to meet or pass before there?"

        "Well, we do have to pass Roseland and there is the small switcher
there but they won't be doing nothin' this time of the night. Hell, I bet
the damned telegraph operator is sound ass asleep, knowing that lazy fool.
The only thing is this, that siding is not big enough for us and neither is
that house track there. So you watch me drivers and I will get up in the
cab and see if we got any bald spots on the wheels."

        "OK, Bill, let 'em rip."

        "Once I make sure we still have rounded wheels I will toot the
whistle and call Joe in from the darkness." Scott nodded his head as Bill
climbed the steps and sat down in the right hand seat. He lifted the
Johnson bar and moved it over to the forward notch, then released the
engine brakes. He looked at his gauges and saw there was 125 pounds of air
in the train line that led back to the caboose and released them. He
slipped his heavy woolen gloves back on and reached up and eased back on
the throttle. The big drivers spun, then found purchase on the rail, and
the big Mikado rolled slowly forward, the couplers clinking together as
the slack was pulled out of the train.

        Scott nodded that everything looked fine from the ground and Bill
reached up and pulled the whistle cord three short sharp blasts to let Joe
know that they were ready to roll. Scott walked back toward the caboose as
Joe was heading back from his lone watch for trains coming from the rear.
Neither of the men was ready for what they would see in the crummy.

        As events unfolded and the careful inspection of 1200 by his loving
crew was taking place, Sean had calmed Jamie down enough to stop his river
of tears. Jamie had opened his heart to Sean about his parents and his
unknown older brother, which brought tears to Sean's eyes. Sean held Jamie
tighter until he thought he might crush the smaller boy. Jamie poured out
his story in between sobs and tears as Sean held and comforted him. Jamie
asked Sean about his home life and why he was on the run. Sean told Jamie
about his family and the fire and the days he spent in the care of the fire
department. Sean left out only one event and one man, Lord Oliver.

        After a pause in the recounting of each other's lives and last days
in New Orleans. Sean motioned for Jamie to lean up and Jamie did. Jamie
turned around and watched Sean as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off
his bronzed shoulders and arms. Jamie looked speechless. Was this the
bronzed god that the British son of a bitch was referring to?

        Sean smiled, "It's hot in here and we're not moving." He threw his
shirt across the end of the bunk. "Here, why don't you pull your shirt off
as well. You're sweating worse than me." Jamie unbuttoned the third button
down since the first two hung open, the buttons missing. Jamie reached for
the 4th one, then paused.

        "What's wrong, my friend, you shy?"

        "Umm, yeah, I don't want anyone to see my stripes, the last thing
my father ever gave me before he..." Jamie stopped and cast his eyes down.
He could not look Sean in the eyes. The tears welled up once more and the
stream began to flow as more pain raced through the boy's shattered heart.

        Sean reached out and stroked Jamie's cheek, then lifted the boy's
head to look at him. "What did he do to you, my friend? What did he do?"

        "I can't tell you, it hurts to even remember it, much less to speak
about it. It's too painful to bear." Jamie broke down into heaving sobs.

        Sean pulled the sobbing boy into his chest and held him for a
moment. "Tell me, Jamie, let it free from your heart before it destroys all
your joy and happiness." Sean bent down and kissed Jamie on the forehead.
"This will be between your heart and mine."

        Jamie looked up into Sean's eyes and he saw that Sean was speaking
from the heart, no lies, no games, just that of friendship.

        "What did your father do, Jamie? Please tell me so I can help,
please. I see the pain in your eyes, I hear sorrow in your heart."

        Jamie, with trembling hands, reached down to finish unbuttoning his
shirt but his fingers refused to listen and Sean reached down and
unbuttoned Jamie's shirt and eased it from the boy's shoulders. Once it was
off, Jamie turned around and the purple bruises shone out like wagon ruts
in a virgin forest. Sean gasped. How could anyone's own father do this to
his son? The bruises covered most of Jamie's back, the long thin red lines
from the leather belt and the spots where the buckle tried to dig into the
boy's flesh. Sean turned Jamie around and pulled him into his arms where
bare skin touched bare skin.

        "Your father did this? Why?"

        "He never wanted me in the first place after my older brother was
given up to the state. Ma and Pa never wanted another child but they had
me. They considered me just another mouth to feed and someone who would
only get in their way. Pa used to never be home, he worked the river, a
pilot, but when hard times hit, the steamboat company no longer needed him
so he started drinking, and Ma works at a saloon selling drinks and herself
for money. Three days ago in the late afternoon when I came home, Pa was
there and already drunk. He wanted to know where I had been all day like he
really cared. Then he wanted to know if I stole him something he could sell
for more whiskey and I told him no. He got mad and grabbed his belt and
whaled the tar out of me till I could hardly stand up. Then he grabbed me
by the neck and forced me out the door and led me down to the waterfront
saloon and shoved me through the door. He told Ma I was a worthless piece
of shit and that he should just sell me for what I was worth, a bottle of
rotgut, and be rid of me. She pointed to a man in a dark suit, he walked
over and they talked for a few minutes. I could not hear what they was
sayin', they spoke real low like. The man had a funny accent like he was
not from around here, you know like some overseas person speaks real proper
like a preacher does on Sunday mornin's, you know. The man got up and
pointed to the door. My pa shoved me to follow the man and they led me to
the fancy Hotel Lafayette, but instead of us using the front way in, I was
led around the back way to a set of stairs and forced up. We went to this
here fancy room and the stranger and Pa shoved me on the bed and the man
gave Pa five greenbacks. Pa laughed and left the room and the stranger
locked the door and put the key in his pocket. The man ordered me to strip
naked. I didn't want to. The man grabbed my shirt and the top two buttons
were ripped off, then he pulled it off of me like a rag. Then he pulled off
my britches while holding the back of my neck. Once he got them off of me,
I was naked. I never owned no underclothes, never had no money to buy any.
He pulled them down to my ankles and he pushed me on the bed. He held me
down while he jerked my shoes off and my britches. He made me lay spread
out on the bed like I was a prize at the county fair. He said he only
wanted to look at me. He lied."

        Sean had tears in his eyes as he stroked the back of Jamie's neck
and back as he listened to Jamie tell about the bastard that he knew as
Lord Oliver.

        Jamie took a deep breath and continued. "I tried to get up but he
held me down and before I knew it he had slipped ropes around my wrists.
My ankles were next. He held me while he slipped ropes around them, he
then got up off the bed and walked to the big window and threw it open,
then he walked back over, smiling and saying that I wasn't going to get
away like the bronze god that afternoon.

        Sean's expression darkened at those last words and the frown grew.
Jamie looked up and saw the expression and the pain. "Sean, do you know
who the son of a bitch was talkin about?"

        "Yes, Jamie, I do. You're looking at him now."

        "Noooooo! Not you, Sean, I am so sorry." Jamie hugged Sean closer.
The two boys were so close that you could not slip a sheet of paper
between them.

        "Not as sorry as I am for you, my friend. I will kill that
bastard!"

        Jamie let out a slight smile. "I did kill him."

        "YOU DID? HOW?"

        "Well after he said that, he started to rub my body all over and he
even jerked on my dick. I could tell he wanted to do it to my butt so he
got on the bed and undid his britches. After he pulled his own out, he had
to reach behind himself and undo the ropes on my feet. Then he lifted my
legs in the air and I saw the chance. I took my left foot and slammed it
into his balls. He screamed and grabbed them. I kicked him again in the
face and he rolled off the bed with a big grunt and a thud. My legs were
free but not my hands. I liked to have panicked for a second but I was so
mad and afraid that I jerked my right arm so hard the rope snapped. I guess
it was a cheap rope. I untied my other hand. I got off the bed, you see,
and found my britches. I got a bottle of white powder from some of the boys
along the wharf; they call the stuff Devil powder. They said just a little
bit of it and it would kill a person. I grabbed the bottle, pulled out the
cork and walked over to the son of a bitch and yanked his head back by his
hair. He opened his mouth to scream and I poured the whole bottle down his
dirty mouth I made him swallow every bit of it. He tried to fight me and
spit it out but I jammed my foot back into his aching balls again, then
again. I yanked on my britches and shirt, then my shoes. The man was now
quiet. I guess he passed out from the pain. I hauled tail out of there and
down the back steps. The next two days I hung around the railroad yards
until today and I jumped aboard that passenger train. You know the rest."

        Sean had tears in his eyes, flowing down his own cheeks. Jamie
looked up and wrapped his arms around Sean's neck and hugged him. Sean
hugged him tightly in his arms and yawned. Jamie smiled, "I am getting that
way too. Where do ya sleep in one of these cabooses?"

        Sean smiled, "Right here, my friend."

        "What about the other two guys? I know they're tired after all
this stuff that is happening."

        "I got an idea, stand up." Jamie stood up and Sean lay down flat
on his back. "Now lay down."

        Jamie looked at him, then asked, "Where?"

        Sean smiled, "Right here," and he kicked off his shoes. Jamie did
the same. Sean pulled Jamie down and positioned him on top of his chest.
Jamie's head was resting between Sean's nipples, smooth flesh touched
smooth flesh as Sean wrapped his arms around Jamie and Jamie wrapped his
around Sean. Neither one of them heard the whistle cry from 1200.

-*-

        Joe and Scott climbed the rear steps and opened the door. Scott was
about to say something when Joe put his finger to his mouth and pointed at
the bunk and the two sleeping boys. "When you give the high ball, make sure
Bill sees the nice and gentle motion."  Scott nodded and stepped outside.
He swung the lantern in a high arch but added a special motion. Bill saw it
and understood.

        Scott blew out his lantern and joined Joe up in the angel's seat.
Bill sounded a short blast as the big drivers spun, then began to roll
north.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

This chapter is dedicated to all that dare to dream.  Also dedicated to a
very special friend who knows and understands the true power of love and
friendship.

Also to a very special friend who I have acted selfish and ashamed for my
actions please forgive me my friend. I wish you the best and will forever
hold our friendship dear and close to my heart.

I would like to thank Ed for his help on this chapter and to both him and
Willy, who give me hope when I see none with my own eyes.

As always my E- Mail is Swarri1349@aol.com
I would love to hear from my readers.

Stephen