“See you out front in the morning,” Felix said to Billie.
Billie, along with two other women, were lodged separately in a nearby boarding house for homeless women. The workers at the Salvation Army tried their best to make the residence appealing, furnishing a sitting room with second-hand chairs, end tables, and curtains on the windows.
In the morning, after breakfast, Billie asked the matron, “Do you happen to know of any work in the city today?”
The woman was dressed in a black dress and bonnet, the traditional uniform of the Army. “Yes, dear, they are looking for laundresses at Mitchell’s six blocks down.”
“Thank you,” Billie said and left.
She met Luther and Felix, and they set out. The men found a job for the day digging trenches as Billie continued to the laundry.
“Just hired the last girl,” the manager at Mitchell’s said. “Come back tomorrow.”
Billie sighed and turned away. This was the only lead she had. After obtaining a soup bone at the butcher, she inquired at several restaurants for dishwashing jobs, but there was nothing, so she decided to try the neighborhoods.
She walked through the residential area looking for hobo code etched on mailboxes, fences, or sidewalks. The language written in symbols alerted other hobos about a multitude of things, friendly or hostile homeowners, dangerous dogs, where to find work, or what rail yards were safe.
Billie saw a child-like drawing of a cat scratched at the base of a fence post in front of a house. She knew this was code for, “A kind lady lives here.”
She opened the gate and walked up to a rundown two-story house. She knocked on the door, and a woman answered, holding a baby on her hip. Three more children clung to her skirts. The woman was alarmingly thin, had dark rings under eyes and worry lines in her forehead.
“Would you happen to have any work, ma’am?” Billie asked.
The woman shook her head as the children stared wide-eyed at Billie. “No work, honey, but would you like a sandwich?”
Billie bit her lip. This woman barely had enough for her children. She smiled and said, “Thank you just the same. I had a meal at the Salvation Army.”
“Well, if you need something to eat at the end of the day, stop back.”
“Thank you,” Billie said as she started down the walk.
In her years hoboing, she had found that those with less seemed to be the people who shared the most. She often wondered if privation bred compassion.
At last, she found work washing windows at a large home. At the end of the day, she was pleased with her earnings. As she walked back to meet Felix and Luther, she thought about her future. It was a topic that plagued her. What was going to happen to her? Would she wander the country endlessly, moving from job to job, town to town?
More than anything, she wanted to see her family and the Hofmanns again. The first few years, she had no choice; she had to stay away, but now she could return. But would they be there? She had written to her family that first winter to tell them she was alive, but she had no way of knowing if they received the letter. She had also written to the Hofmanns, but again, she did not know if they ever saw the letters. Frequently, she thought about her friends at St. Matthew’s. Over time, she came to realize they had perished in the fire. She had been the lucky one.
Someday, she would return home, but for now, life was good. She seldom went hungry, and she was seeing the United States. She had been from coast to coast several times, and she liked Luther and Felix.
From the start, Luther had taken good care of her, and she was grateful to him for his protection. He had been true to his word and never propositioned her for sex. Many hobos had tried. Women soliciting in the jungles did not interest him either, and never once had he spoken of a sweetheart. Then one night, she spied him embracing a man.
The next day he asked her, in his quiet way, to keep his secret, explaining that it could endanger his life. His own father had thrown him off the reservation when he learned of it.
Billie agreed without question.
Over the years, she had grown to love Luther, and now she could add Felix to her list as a trusted companion. Although Felix was prone to bouts of melancholy, he was always sweet-tempered, even when he was feeling blue. Billie knew he missed his wife and his life as a runner terribly.
“You can always return to athletics,” Billie would say. “You are still young.”
And to that, he would shake his head. “It takes more than ability. It takes a determination that I just don’t have any more and money.”
She understood that yearning completely. She missed her photography. She vowed to earn enough money to buy another camera and maybe even make a living with it someday. Occasionally, she would see studios in town, and she would look longingly in the window and think, “I will make it happen. I will do it someday, one way or another.”
She had agreed to meet the men in front of the Salvation Army at sunset. They were frowning when they walked up.
“The lead man stiffed us,” Felix said. “At the end of the day, the son-of-a-bitch was gone.”
Billie’s jaw dropped. “Can you go back and find him tomorrow?”
Luther shook his head. “The job is done. He won’t be there.”
“Oh no,” she moaned. She ground her teeth. This happened far too often.
They stared at the vehicles going up and down the street, unsure what to do.
“We could go back to the Sally again tonight, I suppose,” Felix said.
Luther shook his head. “Let’s get to a jungle. I can pick up some fast money playing cards.”
“I’ve got a soup bone,” Billie added.
“All right, let’s get out of this damn town.”
“First freight out?” Felix asked.
“Yes, to anywhere.”
The first freight out was headed east, bound for Ohio. It had been a long day, and they were tired. Their first stop was in a small town in Indiana. The boxcar door flew open, startling them.
A young man about Billie’s age poked his head inside and said, “Would you folks mind some company?”
“Not at all,” Luther replied.
The boy put his lantern on the floor of the boxcar and helped a girl inside. She was around ten years old, had short, curly brown hair, and was wearing a dress far too large for her slight frame. She looked confused and frightened. She was followed by another girl, who scrambled in without any help. They were identical twins, but the second girl was dressed like a boy in moth-eaten knickers, a threadbare jacket, and a huge flat cap that drooped to the side. She took her sister’s hand and sat down in the corner.
“These girls are going to Columbus, Ohio to find their aunt. You going that far?” the boy asked.
Luther frowned. “Ya, but you’re not coming?”
“No, I don’t really know ‘em. Good luck!” he said, slamming the door.
Before they could argue, the train jerked into motion.
Felix jumped to his feet, yanked the door open, and hollered, “Hey!” But the boy was gone. He looked at the girls and barked, “What the hell is this about?”
There was no reply. The twin who was dressed as a boy pulled out a crushed pack of Lucky Strikes and lit a cigarette.
They gaped at her. Felix exclaimed, “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Where did you get those?” Luther asked.
The girl picked a piece of tobacco from her tongue and said casually, “Stole ‘em from a nun.”
Billie, Felix, and Luther exchanged looks.
“You know, smoking’s not good for a girl your age,” Felix said.
“Oh, really?” the girl replied in a voice heavy with sarcasm.
“What are your names?” Billie asked.
“I’m Olive, and this here’s Hazel.”
“Are you runaways?”
“Ya, an orphanage,” Olive said, taking a puff. “Those goddamn nuns are mean, and they were extra mean to Hazel. She’s a little slow, but she’s a
good kid.”
Hazel put her thumb in her mouth, curled up, and put her head in her sister’s lap.
“Who was that boy?”
“He used to be at the orphanage. Now he works at the yard and helps us runaways. He knows what it’s like at that hellhole.”
They shared what little food they had with them, and the two fell asleep. Billie wondered how long it had been since they’d eaten.
After several hours, the train slowed, and Luther slid the door open. He looked out and said, “It’s Columbus.”
“How are the cinder dicks here?” Felix asked, picking up his bindle. “We’ll have to help these girls off.”
“The bulls aren’t too bad here as I recall.”
The train stopped with a jerk, and the men hopped out, looking around. Other hobos were jumping off too.
“Wake up, girls,” Billie said. “We’re here. Luther will help you down.”
Olive rubbed her eyes and mumbled, “Hazel, you go first.”
Luther took the bewildered child and swung her down, followed by Olive.
“Do you know how to get to your aunt’s?” Luther asked.
“Um,” Olive said, “well─”
“Oh, shit!” Felix barked. “A dick!”
A large man wearing a policeman’s hat and wielding a club was running towards them.
“Help us!” Olive screamed. “We ain’t got no one!”
Quick as lightning, Billie put Hazel on Luther’s back.
“Get on!” Felix said to Olive, and she jumped onto his back. Quick as lightning, he scrambled between boxcars and was gone.
The detective pursued Luther, Hazel, and Billie instead. They ran across the tracks, jumping over rails, dodging around cars. The dick was gaining on them. He blew a whistle, and another detective joined him.
“There!” Luther yelled. They ran between two buildings and down an alley. He stopped, swung Hazel down, and roared, “Take her and go!”
“But there are two bulls!” Billie argued.
“Go!”
Billie grabbed Hazel’s hand and began running. When she looked back, Luther had turned and was meeting the bulls head-on. The last thing she saw was one of them swing his club.
Billie and Hazel rounded the corner onto a busy street. Pulling the bandana from her head, Billie let her hair down. She would pose as a mother walking with her daughter. The railroad dicks were looking for men.
A detective burst from the alley, looked around, and then disappeared again between warehouses. Billie feared for Luther. He would have no trouble with one bull, but if there were two, he could be hurt.
A fine mist was falling, and the streetlights cast a blurry glow on everything. Motorcars heading to the passenger depot splashed through puddles. There was a flophouse on one corner and a diner on the other corner. Hazel was staring at everything with her mouth open, her curly hair shining in the lamplight.
“Come on, pumpkin. We’ll find your sister,” Billie said. Anytime they were separated, Luther, Felix and Billie agreed to meet at the nearest Sally. She turned into the diner and asked, “Could you tell me where I might find the Salvation Army?”
“A block down,” the waitress replied.
“Thank you.”
When they arrived, Felix was there with Olive. The little girls hugged.
“Where’s Luther?” Felix asked.
“I lost him back at the warehouses. He was taking on one of the bulls.”
“Oh no.”
Fifteen minutes later, he appeared. His lip was bleeding, and he was holding his arm.
“You’re hurt!” Billie cried.
He shook his head. “That dick’s worse off than me. But he got me in the arm with the club before I grabbed it. I coulda killed that son-of-a-bitch, but I threw the stick instead.”
“Good. You don’t need to be on the run for murder,” Felix said.
“Let’s go find a jungle. I can’t go in a Sally looking like this.”
They looked at the girls. “It won’t be easy with these two,” Felix observed.
Hazel was sucking her thumb, and Olive was puffing on a cigarette.
“Good lord, no,” Billie mumbled.
Chapter 9
They found an abandoned camp outside of town. It was the perfect solution for traveling with children. Previous hobos left utensils as a courtesy for the next travelers who inhabited the site. A shaving mirror was on a tree, with a strap and a barrel of rainwater for washing. There were crates to sit on, as well as scrap-wood dwellings for sleeping. A frying pan and tin cans for cooking were left too.
“You get settled in,” Luther announced. “I’ll walk the tracks and see if I can find a card game. Otherwise, we don’t eat tonight.”
“Wait, I washed windows today,” Billie said, handing him her money.
“Good,” he replied and counted it. “That helps, but we’ll need more.”
Two hours later, he returned with food. He had found a game and won enough money for supper. After finding dry wood, Felix cooked the soup bone along with carrots and potatoes. He always managed to make the humblest ingredients into gourmet fare. There were a few eggs and some bread too for the morning.
After eating, Luther returned to the card game. Felix went to bed, and Billie settled into one of the shacks with the girls. Once she rolled out their blankets and tucked them in, she went out to the fire to read. She had found a water-damaged book by Henry James in the trash and was eager to get back to it.
Moments later, Olive emerged. “Is that a book about Cleopatra?”
“You should be asleep.”
“Nah, I like to stay up late. Is it about King Tut?” she asked and sat down.
Billie flipped the book over to look at the cover. “What gives you that idea? No, it’s called The Turn of the Screw.”
“You know they just found King Tut’s mummy.”
“That’s nice,” Billie said, going back to her book.
“But I like Cleopatra best. Ask me anything about her. Anything at all.”
Billie chuckled, dropped the book, and shook her head. “All right.” She thought a moment.
Olive watched her with wide eyes.
“How’d she die?”
“Snakebite—killed herself.”
“Who did she marry?”
“She married several times, but she liked Mark Antony the best.”
Billie arched her brows, deciding to make it harder. She didn’t know the answer but asked anyway. “Did they have children?”
“Three.”
“What dynasty was she?”
“Ptolemaic. She spoke seven languages and rolled herself up in a carpet to meet Julius Caesar.”
“Impressive,” Billie said with a smile.
Olive sat up straight, proud of herself. “You wanna hear more?”
“Not right now, but you certainly know a lot about her, Olive.”
“I have loved her all my life, and I am going to read every book in the world about her.”
“A noble aspiration. So, no one else, just Cleopatra?”
“Yes, she’s worth a lifetime. I wish I looked like her, but I have stupid brown hair. You’re pretty like her.”
Billie smiled. “Well, at least I have the dark hair.”
They watched the fire a moment.
“Was you an orphan when you was a kid?” Olive asked.
“Sort of. I was sent away to a boarding school at five, so I barely knew my parents.”
“Hazel and me, we can’t remember our folks.”
“Do you have family anywhere?”
“No.”
“God’s truth?”
“God’s truth. We got nobody. Can we stay with you?”
Billie sighed and rubbed her head. “That’s not for me to decide.”
“I’m a real hard worker and ain’t afraid of no one,” Olive urged.
“I believe that,” Billie replied. “I read somewhere that Cleopatra always got her beauty rest. Maybe you should too.”<
br />
“That’s true. I’m goin’ to bed. Night.”
“Night.”
* * *
Olive and Hazel did stay, traveling with them for over a year. It was hard being on the road with youngsters, but Billie, Felix, and Luther were happy, considering themselves a family. They crossed the country several times, picking grapes in California, oranges in Florida, and field rock in the Midwest. Wherever they went, they found work, and Luther found lucrative card games, but when the stock market crashed in October 1929, everything changed. By the end of the year, the number of hobos on the road had tripled, and from everything Billie read in the papers, it was getting worse.
Nevertheless, Olive and Hazel were a welcome distraction. The girls adored Luther, which amused Billie and Felix. Luther didn’t talk much to the girls, but he always had Baby Ruth candy bars in his pocket.
“You spoil them, Luther,” Felix would say.
“I can’t help myself. I always wanted daughters.”
The girls gave Billie her first hobo nickname. Hazel, convinced that Billie was the Egyptian queen of the Nile, started calling her Cleopatra. So, as a result, Felix started calling Billie “Queen Cleo.”
Initially, Olive thought this was a sacrilege, but at last she conceded, admitting that Cleo wasn’t exactly Cleopatra and that the name could stay. Other hobos heard it and started calling Billie “Queen Cleo” as well.
Christmas was approaching, and Billie was eager to make the holiday special for the girls, so she took extra jobs to buy them each a small gift. It was no easy task with the increasing competition for employment.
Hobos on outbound trains were a great way to find work, so when they arrived in Atlanta, Billie shouted to several men on top of boxcars, “Where’s the work?” They told her of several companies hiring.
It was snowing, and Billie brushed wet flakes out of Hazel’s hair. “You need a hat,” she said as they walked along the tracks to find a jungle.
“Snow already,” Luther grumbled.
“Not a good sign for the winter to come,” Felix said, looking up. “And we’re in North Georgia.”
“The Sallys are full by now,” Billie added. “We’ll have to sleep outside tonight, but tomorrow maybe we should find a mission or an Army.”
The Image Seeker Page 8
