“Yes.” Maine was about as Yankeeland as you could get, Luke thought.
Mattie pointed at Luke’s ear. “Who done that? Was it your dad? Stepdad?”
Luke stared at him, alarmed. “Who . . . how did you get that idea?” But even in his current state, the answer was obvious. “Someone’s looking for me. It was the same at the last place the train stopped. How many are there? What did they say? That I ran away from home?”
“That’s it. Your uncle. He brought a couple of friends, and one’s a cop from Wrightsville Beach. They didn’t say why, but yeah, they said you ran away from up in Massachusetts. And if someone done that, I get it.”
That one of the waiting men was a cop scared Luke badly. “I got on in Maine, not Massachusetts, and my dad is dead. My mom, too. Everything they say is a lie.”
The white guy considered this. “So who done that to your ear, outlaw? Some foster home asshole?”
That was not so far from the truth, Luke thought. Yes, he had been in a kind of foster home, and yes, it had been run by assholes. “It’s complicated. Just . . . sir . . . if those men see me, they’ll take me away. Maybe they couldn’t do that if they didn’t have a cop with them, but they do. They’ll take me back to where this happened.” He pointed to his ear. “Please don’t tell. Please just let me stay on the train.”
Mattie scratched his head. “I don’t know about that. You’re a kid, and you’re a mess.”
“I’ll look a whole lot worse if those men take me.”
Believe that, he thought with all his force. Believe that, believe that.
“Well, I don’t know,” Mattie repeated. “Although I didn’t much care for the look of those three, tell you the God’s honest. They seemed kinda nervy, even the cop. Also, you’re lookin at a guy who run from home three times before I finally made it. First time I was about your age.”
Luke said nothing. Mattie was headed in the right direction, at least.
“Where you going? Do you even know?”
“Someplace where I can get some food and some water and think,” Luke said. “I need to think, because nobody’s going to want to believe the story I’ve got to tell. Especially not coming from a kid.”
“Mattie!” someone shouted. “Come on, man! Unless you want a free trip to South Carolina!”
“Kid, were you kidnapped?”
“Yes,” Luke said, and began to cry. “And those men . . . the one who says he’s my uncle, and the cop . . .”
“MATTIE! Wipe your ass and come ON!”
“I’m telling the truth,” Luke said simply. “If you want to help me, let me go.”
“Well, shit.” Mattie spat over the side of the boxcar. “Seems wrong, but that ear of yours . . . those men, you’re sure they’re bad guys?”
“The worst,” Luke said. He was actually ahead of the worst ones, but whether or not he was able to stay there depended on what this man decided to do.
“Do you even know where you are now?”
Luke shook his head.
“This is Wilmington. Train’s gonna stop in Georgia, then at Tampa, and finish up its run in Miami. If people are looking for you, APB or AMBER Alert or whatever they call it, they’ll be looking in all those places. But the next place it stops is just a shit-splat on the map. You might—”
“Mattie, where the fuck are you?” Much closer now. “Stop fuckin around. We gotta sign out.”
Mattie gave Luke another dubious look.
“Please,” Luke said. “They put me in a tank. Almost drowned me. I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true.”
Footsteps crunched on gravel, approaching. Mattie jumped down and trundled the boxcar door three-quarters of the way closed. Luke crawled back into his nest behind the small engine gear.
“Thought you said you were gonna take a shit. What were you doing in there?”
Luke waited for Mattie to say There’s a kid stowed away in that box, gave me some crazy story about being kidnapped up in Maine and stuck in a water-tank so he don’t have to go with his uncle.
“I did my bi’ness then wanted a look at those Kubota walk-behinds,” Mattie said. “My Lawn-Boy’s just about to drop dead.”
“Well, come on, train can’t wait. Hey, you didn’t see any kid running around, did you? Like maybe he hopped onboard up north and decided Wimmington would be a nice place to visit?”