The panhandler laughed and shook his head again.
—Yep. The Pennsylvania. The Burlington. The Union Pacific and Great Northern. I know all the lines.
Then he was quiet.
—You were talking about a train to New York, Emmett prompted gently.
—Righto, he replied. The Big Apple! But are you sure about New York? The thing about a freight yard is you can get to anywhere you’ve thought of, and plenty of places you haven’t. Florida. Texas. California. How about Santa Fe? You been there? Now that’s a town. This time of year, it’s warm durin’ the day and cool at night, and it’s got some of the friendliest se?oritas you’ll ever meet.
As the panhandler began laughing, Emmett worried he was losing the thread of their conversation again.
—I’d love to go to Santa Fe at some point, Emmett said, but for the time being, I need to go to New York.
The panhandler stopped laughing and adopted a more serious expression.
—Well, that’s life in a nutshell, ain’t it. Lovin’ to go to one place and havin’ to go to another.
The panhandler looked left and right, then he wheeled a little closer.
—I know you were askin’ Jackson about an afternoon train to New York. Now that would be the Empire Special, which leaves at one fifty-five, and she’s a beauty. Runnin’ at ninety miles an hour and stoppin’ only six times, she can make it to the city in under twenty hours. But if you want to get to New York, then you don’t want to ride the Empire Special. ’Cause when she reaches Chicago, she takes on a carload of bearer bonds headed for Wall Street. She never has fewer than four armed guards, and when they decide to remove you from the train, they don’t wait for it to come into a station.
The panhandler looked up in the air.
—Now, the West Coast Perishables, she comes through Lewis at six o’clock. And she ain’t a bad ride. But this time of year, she’ll be filled to the brim and you’d have to board her in broad daylight. So you don’t want the Perishables neither. What you want is the Sunset East, which will be comin’ through Lewis shortly after midnight. And I can tell you exactly how to board her, but before I do, you’ll have to answer me a question.
—Go ahead, said Emmett.
The panhandler grinned.
—What’s the difference between a ton of flour and a ton of crackers?
* * *
When Emmett returned to the passenger terminal, he was relieved to find Billy just where he’d left him—sitting on the bench with his backpack at his side and his big red book in his lap.
When Emmett joined him, Billy looked up with some excitement.
—Did you figure out which train we’re going to hitch a ride on, Emmett?
—I did, Billy. But it doesn’t go until shortly after midnight.
Billy nodded to express his approval, as if shortly after midnight was exactly when it should go.
—Here, said Emmett, taking off his brother’s watch.
—No, said Billy. You wear it for now. You need to keep track of the time.
While strapping the watch back on, Emmett saw that it was nearly two.
—I’m starving, he said. Maybe I’ll take a look around and see if I can scrounge up something for us to eat.
—You don’t have to scrounge up something, Emmett. I have our lunch.
Billy reached into his backpack and took out his canteen, two paper napkins, and two sandwiches wrapped in wax paper with tight creases and sharp corners. Emmett smiled, noting that Sally wrapped her sandwiches as neatly as she made her beds.
—One is roast beef and one is ham, Billy said. I couldn’t remember if you liked roast beef more than ham, or ham more than roast beef, so we decided on one of each. They both have cheese, but only the roast beef has mayonnaise.
—I’ll take the roast beef, said Emmett.
The brothers unwrapped their sandwiches and both took healthy bites.
—God bless, Sally.
Billy looked up in agreement with Emmett’s sentiment, but apparently curious as to the timing of the remark. By way of explanation, Emmett held his sandwich in the air.
—Oh, said Billy. These aren’t from Sally.
—They’re not?
—They’re from Mrs. Simpson.
Emmett froze for a moment with his sandwich in the air, while Billy took another bite.
—Who is Mrs. Simpson, Billy?
—The nice lady who sat beside me.
—Sat beside you here?
Emmett pointed to the spot on the bench where he was sitting.
—No, said Billy pointing to the empty spot on his right. Sat beside me here.