—This is where we get off, he said.
After helping Billy put on his backpack, Emmett took a step toward the door by which he and his brother had entered, but Ulysses gestured to the other side of the car.
—This way.
Emmett had imagined that they would be disembarking into a sprawling freight yard—like the one in Lewis, only larger—situated somewhere on the outskirts of the city, with the skyline marking the horizon. He imagined they would need to slip from the car with caution in order to make their way past railwaymen and security guards. But when Ulysses slid the door open, there was no sign of a freight yard, no sign of other trains or other people. Instead, what filled the doorway was the city itself. They appeared to be on a narrow stretch of track suspended three stories above the streets, with commercial buildings rising around them and taller buildings in the distance.
—Where are we? Emmett asked as Ulysses jumped to the ground.
—It’s the West Side Elevated. A freight track.
Ulysses raised a hand to help Billy down, leaving Emmett to help himself.
—And the camp you mentioned?
—Not far.
Ulysses began walking in the narrow space between the train and the guardrail at the elevated’s edge.
—Watch the ties, he warned without turning back.
For all the celebration of the New York City skyline in poetry and song, as Emmett walked he barely paid it notice. In his youth, he had never dreamed of coming to Manhattan. He hadn’t read the books or watched the movies with an envious eye. He had come to New York for one reason and one reason alone—to reclaim his car. Now that they were here, Emmett’s attention could turn to finding Duchess by finding his father.
When he’d awoken that morning, the first word on his lips had been Statler, as if his mind had continued sorting through the alphabetical combinations in his sleep. That’s where Duchess had said the booking agencies were: the Statler Building. As soon as they arrived in the city, Emmett figured, he and Billy would go straight to Times Square to obtain Mr. Hewett’s address.
When Emmett had explained his intentions to Ulysses, Ulysses frowned. He pointed out that they wouldn’t be arriving in New York until five o’clock, so by the time he made it to Times Square, the agencies would be closed. It made more sense for Emmett to wait until morning. Ulysses said that he would take Emmett and Billy to a camp where they could sleep safely for the night; and on the following day he would watch over Billy while Emmett went uptown.
Ulysses had a way of saying what you should do as if it were a foregone conclusion, a trait that quickly got under Emmett’s skin. But Emmett couldn’t argue with the reasoning. If they arrived at five o’clock, it would be too late to go in search of the office. And when Emmett went to Times Square in the morning, it would be much more efficient if he could go alone.
* * *
? ? ?
On the elevated, Ulysses was walking with a long and purposeful stride, as if he were the one who had urgent business in the city.
While trying to catch up, Emmett checked to see where they were going. Earlier that afternoon, the train had shed two thirds of its freight cars, but there were still seventy cars between theirs and the locomotive. As he looked ahead, all Emmett could see was the same narrow gap between the boxcars and the guardrail receding into the distance.
—How do we get down from here? he asked Ulysses.
—We don’t.
—Are you saying the camp is up here on the tracks?
—That’s what I’m saying.
—But where?
Ulysses stopped and turned to Emmett.
—Did I say I was going to take you there?
—Yes.
—Then why don’t you let me do so.
Ulysses let his gaze linger on Emmett for a second to make sure that his point had been made, then he looked over Emmett’s shoulder.
—Where’s your brother?
Turning, Emmett was startled to find that Billy wasn’t there. So distracted had he been by his own thoughts and by trying to keep up with Ulysses, he had lost his awareness of his brother’s whereabouts.
Seeing the expression on Emmett’s face, Ulysses’s own expression turned to one of consternation. Saying something curt under his breath, Ulysses brushed past Emmett and began walking back the way they’d come as Emmett tried to catch up, the color rising to his cheeks.
They found Billy right where they had left him—beside the boxcar in which they had ridden. Because if Emmett was not enraptured by the sight of New York, the same could not be said of Billy. When they had disembarked, he had taken two steps toward the railing, climbed on top of an old wooden crate, and looked out into the cityscape, mesmerized by its scale and verticality.