The Jewels of Nebraska Episode 6 -One Tear

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I was hard to live with in those days, the spring of 1905. There was only one thing on my mind: Charlotte, the girl from the train station. I fool talked about her to anyone that would listen, poor souls. I tried to find out anything I could about her, but she was behind walls a regular young man like me couldn't see over. Papa and Bill gave me an awful hard time being smitten over a society girl. Bill told the story of my bold introduction over and over to the guys at the flour mill and soon they were funnin' at me too.

I suppose they were right. It was crazy. It's a right fine thing I wasn't sane, not about Charlotte anyhow. Sacks of flour weren't near so heavy when I thought of those hazel eyes.

“Excuse me sir,” I said at the ticket counter.

“You again huh? Listen kid, why don't you just call me Harry.”

“Uh, sure Harry. Say, did you happen to see a girl leave outta here, lotsa trunks, private car maybe...”

“No. No girl left here like that,” Harry adjusted his visor and rubbed his brow, “not with trunks, not in a private car or with a white hat, auburn hair and dreamy hazel eyes.”

“You're sure, you haven't been out sick or nothing?”

“Listen kid, write down your address here.” He handed me a card. “If your dream girl comes through here, I'll send you a telegram, no charge.”

“Gee mister, I mean Harry...”

“On one condition: you don't come round and bother me with this no more.”

I took a night job as a waiter at the Omaha Country Club in the hopes that I might catch a glimpse of her. I saw an a whole lot of hats and gloves, but no Charlotte.

A waiter overhears a lot serving the rich. I got to know who was who and what was what. Some of them people was more depraved than sinnin' workin' folks, if that talk was to be believed. They lied, gossiped, fornicated, and got drunk; they just had prettier words for it.

I listened close for only one word: “Charlotte”.

William's behind was sore from sittin' on the floor of that truck for hours. He felt around the Huette's belongings and was able to work loose a padded embroidered footstool. It said somethin' gospel-like, but he got it under him too quick to do any readin'.

In the front, Ruby rode silently between the Huettes. Caleb went on and on about God's blessings as if he had not struck the girl. She wondered if it really happened.

On a privy break, Ester and Ruby took to the bushes on one side of the road, while Caleb headed off the other. William began to follow.

“Who's gunna watch the truck, praise be oh Lord? Don't worry boy, you'll get your turn.” He disappeared behind a clump of greenery a respectable distance from the road.

The women had returned long before Mr. Huette. Billy wondered if he should just use their side of the road, then he thought of Caleb's temper.

Caleb finally came from the brush, glowing with perspiration.

“Alright boy,” Caleb said wiping his brow.

Billy took him a different path, so he wouldn't run into anything unpleasant. He heard the truck engine start. He wanted to run back, but he was indisposed. I believe that's the polite way to put it. When he heard the engine rev up and pull away, he ran regardless, holdin' up his drawers with one hand.

“Wait! Wait!”

When he reached the road he saw a cloud of dust and the truck growing smaller in it's midst. He ran with all his might but the distance grew. He thought he could hear his sister crying out his name and Mr. Huette's bellowing in return. The truck weaved in the road. The hollering ceased and the truck straightened, shifted into third gear and disappeared over a hill.

He stood frozen in place for a spell, hoping for some thought, some voice from somewhere to tell him what to do. A lone tear streaked down his face. He wiped it quickly away. It was the only one he would allow. He knew he was going to have to become a man, and right quick. The breeze whispered the pines, the buzz of a bee, the call of a bird close by, and one further away. A hawk sounded high overhead.

There was only one direction to go: after his sister, and only one way to get there. William swallowed hard, picked up the small case that Caleb had tossed out of the truck and started walking down the road.

Kohn's stolen truck was running a little better after he stopped and adjusted the carburetor lean to match the thin air. He much preferred traveling by horse, but he had to match the speed of the kids. It had occurred to him that the ten thousand dollars Bodene Kruger was payin' him to bring back a couple kids was the same amount he claimed to be into the family farm, which he would just foreclose on anyway. Why all the trouble for two poor farm kids leavin' town?

Over a hill he saw a figure walking along the road. When he got close the figure turned and waved him down.

“Trouble you have?”

“My car seems to be broken down,” said the man, “about two miles back.”

“Slowly she looses power till she stops and no starts, no?”

“Why yes, that's precisely correct sir.”

“Is no gasoline, is förgasare... where air mix.”

“We go.” Kohn motioned to the large man with the mustache to get in the truck.

“You're a rather large, tall individual,” said Herman. He closed the door and set his silver tipped walking stick between his knees. He glanced at Kohn's thimbles. “And such fascinating attire.”

Kohn let out the clutch and the truck rumbled on. The engine puttered through the gears.

“My name is Herman Jones, I am a theatrical director and proprietor of The Jones Theatrical Review, a company of players. We were on our way to Grand Junction when our auto stalled. What sort of work do you do?”

Kohn's little finger gave the steering wheel one decisive tap.

“I see,” Herman said. “If you ever find yourself out of work my good man, you might consider lending your extraordinary attributes to show business; colorful individual like yourself.”

Kohn shifted in his seat and placed his arm out the window. He allowed himself the indulgence of imagining himself on the stage before a large adoring audience.

“No business of show, my English, not so gud.”

Herman gave half a snicker before he stopped himself. “There are other shows beside the stage. I was thinking, more exactly for you, of the circus.”

Herman reached for his hanky and wiped his face. He noticed something pale blue in the corner of his eye. He slowly turned to see Kohn staring at him with those burning orbs.

“Say there good fellow, I didn't mean any... The circus you see is a fine... Sir, I believe we may just drive off into a tree if you don't turn your attention to...”

Kohn's thimbles began slowly drumming on the wheel. Herman glanced out his window at the passing gravel.

“Shall I just step out then?”

Kohn neither blinked nor wavered. Herman opened his door, tipped his hat, hugged his stick and stepped out of the moving truck. When he hit the ground, he rolled like lop-sided medicine ball. He stood with some difficultly, placed his top hat back on his head, gave his suit vest a couple dusty smacks and began walking, not too evenly, down the road.

It was no easier sleeping the tent and in the cot with Mrs. Huette than it was the first night. All Ruby could think about was her brother William, out there somewhere, alone. Then there was the twine tied to her ankle and tethered to Mr. Huette's on the other side of the tent. She had tried to run off a bunch since they left her brother and Caleb had seen to it. Mrs. Huette would know if she reached down to work on the large knot, and Caleb would be woke up by any pull on the twine. As it was, Caleb had gotten up in the night to do his business, forgotten about the twine in his grogginess and nearly towed Ruby clean off the cot.

Many Miles away, William lie next to a stream. He had no flashlight, no bedroll or blanket, no dinner, and no one to talk to.

The mountains and tall pines around him were only visible as black shadows against stars in the moonless sky. They made him feel small, as did the task before him. Yet, he had followed the tire tracks of the Huette's truck--distinct by the tread being wore on one side more than t'other--for over ten miles. He found some wild blue berries and some grubs to eat and came close to starting a fire. There was a small, but important sense of accomplishment.

He'd taken several pictures with his new camera. He couldn't wait to see how they'd turned out, though he had no idea how to get the pictures out.

Critters moved in the forest around him, how big or how far he could not tell and didn't want to. He might have been scared to death, but he was too busy planning what he was fix'in to do to that Caleb Huette when he caught up to him.

Continued in Episode #7