The Witchery Way

by Robert L. Ferrier

  In the cab, Joe bit off some Red Man. "What’re you staring at? Ain’t you ever seen clean overalls?"

  "Sure."

  Joe spat out the window. "You two better pull your weight, or I’ll put you off at Swink."

  Josh said, "We’ll do okay."

  Joe blew the whistle twice. "Josh, grab your shovel and let’s roll." He adjusted the reverse gear and throttle. The drivers spun and caught. No. 88 jerked forward amidst a swirl of hissing steam and the chuff, chuff, chuff of the engine. Josh opened the fire door and shoveled in coal, feeling the heat on his face. The day was hot, over a hundred degrees, and he was sweating. He remembered the conversation with Brady Lembeck, and then touched the witchcraft pouch.

  Amy said, "Where’s your dad?"

  "Back in the first car. He’s the tour guide."

  Josh watched Joe Buck. The big Indian would be listening to the exhaust, rods, and crossheads.

  Joe looked at Josh. "Back off on the stoker."

  Amy said, "What’s he mean by that?"

  Josh said, "As you hook up the engine, the fireman has to compensate. The coal and water demands decrease. If I don’t back off on the stoker," he said, pointing to a lever, "then I’ll bury the fire with green coal."

  "Oh." Her eyes were uncomprehending, but she smiled at him. "l love this. I’ll never forget this summer."

  "I won’t either." He touched the witchcraft pouch again, knowing that today he would break a promise: the one he’d made in the woods to himself, about stopping Trace, or the one he’d made in the hospital to his father, about staying out of the woods.

  In thirty minutes, they approached the Swink crossing, and one of the crew threw a switch that put them on the track heading north. Joe had the throttle half open, at 35 percent, sanders off. There was a steady barking at the smoke stack. Joe leaned over toward Josh and said, "Stoker on almost full?"

  "Yes. All jets open."

  "Water?"

  "Regulator set."

  "Fire?"

  "Level. Steam gauge at 280 pounds."

  Joe nodded and looked out the window. He spat a stream into the wind. Part of the juice caught his sleeve, staining the bright red overalls. He didn’t look as happy as he should have, Josh thought. After months of planning and work, of overcoming problems, including sabotage, No. 88 was carrying passengers. Yet something was wrong, and Josh thought he knew the answer. Ed must have confided to Joe about the narcotics raid team. Now, all three of them had to worry about what awaited at Hickory Creek.

  Josh forced his mind back on the job. They turned northeast at the Highway 3 junction, getting into the Pushmataha County foothills now, and hitting some grades. Josh felt hot and sweaty. He shoveled more coal into the firebox and checked the water and steam gauges.

  Joe looked out the cab. "Tunnel up ahead."

  Amy said, "We’ll die from the smoke and heat!"

  Joe spat a stream and shook his head. "No we won’t."

  Josh said, "How will we handle it?"

  "We get a good run at the tunnel. Just before entering, I’ll throttle down, and you shut that stoker off. That’ll cut down the smoke. Then we drift through the bore." He spat out the window. "We’ll still get some smoke—give ‘em a thrill back in the cars."

  Josh nodded. Giving them a thrill was not the way he would have put it—more like scaring the socks off them, but he didn’t have time to worry about it; the tunnel opening loomed ahead. He placed his hand on the stoker control and waited.

  Joe let out some throttle and built up speed. Then Josh shut down the stoker just at they entered the tunnel. It was like boring into hell. Everything went black, and the noise magnified. Josh held Amy as smoke filled the cabin, and they started coughing. Josh saw rock passing by the window. The engine sounded deafening. Just when he thought they would never reach the end, they burst out into the sunlight again. Fresh air filled the cabin, blowing out the soot and smoke, and Josh opened the stoker. He was starting to anticipate the big Indian’s commands. Joe noticed this and smiled. Josh looked at Amy and laughed. "Your hair looks like salt and pepper."

  "So does yours."

  Joe wetted a towel with water and pitched it to Josh.

  "Thanks." Josh wiped Amy’s face and neck until he could see white again, then he kissed her on the cheek.

  "Cut that out!" Joe yelled. "Act like railroaders!"

  Josh checked his gauges.

  They rounded a curve, and Josh smelled smoke from campsites. Over to the south, between the "Y" on the railroad tracks, he saw Indians in ceremonial clothes. Joe eased off the throttle, adjusted the reverse lever, and No. 88 lost speed. He looked through Josh’s window. "There’s Isaac."

  Joe spat a stream out his window. "The old fart is taking this serious. I’ve never seen him braid his hair before."

  "He’s got ‘em organized,” Josh said. “They’re all going in the tipi."

  "I guess he knows some Crow. That Bear Song Dance is Crow, not Cherokee. I figured he’d do a Sun Dance."

  Josh shook his head. "The Sun Dance goes on more than one day. We don’t have that much time."

  "Yeah. But we have time to take on coal, water, and let the passengers watch them dance." Joe rounded the top of the oval and headed toward the small depot and water tower. There was a coal chute next to it. He worked the brake. "Shut her off."

  Josh opened the blower and shut off the stoker. There was a sound of hissing steam as No. 88 huffed to a stop, right below the water tower and coal chute. Josh hugged Amy. "We made it."

  Joe set the engine brakes, centered the reverse lever, closed the throttle, and inserted the safety pin. Then he looked at his watch and turned to Josh. "Talk to Isaac for a few minutes. See if he and Wake need any help. Then come back and help me take on coal and water."

  "Okay." Josh helped Amy climb down from the cab. "You want to stand in line to wash up or go watch the dancers?"

  "I want to watch the dancers. I’ll get coal dust all over me again when we start back anyway."

  "Okay." As they walked around the front of the locomotive, he waved at his dad near the water tower. The tower did not look sturdy, and Josh hoped that it would hold up for this trip. Josh looked at his watch. It was almost four. The sky was blank blue, and the sun bore down. Looking out across the flat plain of the dance ground, Josh could see Isaac herding the tourists over to some wooden bleachers. When everyone was seated, a beautiful Indian girl wearing a wildflower necklace began to explain the Bear Song Dance.

  Isaac walked toward Josh and Amy. His face seemed drawn and pale. He looked even thinner than the last time Josh had seen him in the repair shop. He ran his knobby hands over the handle of the snake stick, and when he spoke, the gold tooth flashed. "You made it, Railroad Boy."

  Josh nodded. "We made it. Isaac, you remember Amy."

  He nodded. "I remember."

  Josh looked around. "Any trouble?"

  "No trouble. I know many of the Crow."

  "What I meant was any problems from the south." He waved toward the woods.

  Isaac shook his head. "Not yet."

  Not yet? Josh turned and looked toward the tipi. All the dancers were inside. About forty yards away stood a thick cottonwood post, with a tanned bear skin nailed to it.

  There was an awkward silence. Isaac seemed to want to say something. Josh could feel it. There was tension. Amy seemed to sense it too. "I’m going to walk around for a while. Make some new friends." She started walking away.

  Josh wanted to say something to her, but Isaac beat him to it. "Choose friends wisely."

  Josh had meant to say something to her, like "stay out of the woods," but that would have sounded dumb, coming from him. He looked to the south, past the tipi into the tree line. "What happens now?"

  Isaac gave a signal with his hand, and an Indian started a slow drumbeat near the tipi.

  "Now, Big-snake beats drum. White Cloud leads dancers out of tipi."

  Josh watched them walk out, single-file, an old woman in buckskin
, beaded belt, and beaded high-top moccasins leading them. Isaac was playing a game with him, and Josh knew it. "That’s not what I meant. I meant what do you think Trace might do now?"

  Isaac did not answer.

  Josh watched the procession. The men were coming out, some wearing bear skins and necklaces strung with yellow claws from grizzlies and black bears, others with pieces of buffalo shoulder blades polished and smeared with white clay. Isaac said, "I know what you meant. I don’t know what the witch will do. No one knows what a witch will do." He looked Josh in the eye, and the intensity of that night in the woods came back. "But he will do something. Witches crazy smart. So whatever you want to do, you should do the opposite."

  "What?"

  Isaac looked down at Josh’s hiking boots. "Do opposite of what you want."

  Josh thought about that while he watched the procession circle the cottonwood post. The dancers started singing the Bear Song. He heard a voice behind him, calling "Josh." It was Joe, wanting him back at the train. Josh listened to the song and looked around the crowd which now circled the dance ground. Amy was on the other side, talking to the beautiful Indian girl with the wildflower necklace. Josh, without looking at Isaac, said, "Why did you look at my boots like that?"

  Isaac swayed in rhythm with the Bear Song. He pointed toward one of the dancers. "That’s One Plenty-Bear. He’s singing the words, ‘Look at Lodge Grass creek! The bear cub is here; its parent is here."‘

  Josh listened to the song. He blocked out the sound of Joe Buck calling him from the cab of No. 88. A man wearing a robe over his head approached the skin and rubbed his face against it. He blew out red paint from his mouth and stood back. Then the crowd reacted when bear teeth protruded from his mouth. Several dancers put blankets over him, threw him on the ground, held him, covered him with a blanket, smoked him with wild-carrot incense, and finally gave him a lump of pemmican to take home.

  Isaac said, "You going into woods again?"

  Josh looked around the crowd, but he didn’t see Amy or the beautiful girl with the flower chain necklace. He watched the ceremony, switching his eyes back and forth into the crowd to try and pick up Amy. Something didn’t feel right. A woman dancer approached the bear skin. She displayed a buffalo tail and white clay. Some women seized her, made her sit down, and restored her with the incense. The buffalo tail receded, and she went off.

  Isaac looked at him. "You have witchcraft pouch?"

  Josh nodded.

  Again the call from Joe Buck. Isaac heard it too.

  An old woman dancer rubbed her face against the bear skin, showed the feathered tip of a stick and said it was a coup stick. She was treated with sweetgrass. Then the first woman returned, but now she showed the tail of a gray horse. Another dancer struck his side and took out three bird’s eggs. He brought out sweetgrass and smoked the eggs with it.

  Josh looked for Amy, and a bad feeling formed in his gut. The sun bore down. He was sweating, the coal dust running in rivulets down his body. Everyone was sweating. An old couple wearing straw hats walked slowly over to the first aid tent. Wake McKenna was there, staring at Josh. He wasn’t smiling now. He had heard Joe Buck, and Josh wondered how long he had before someone came for him.

  Josh looked at Isaac, saw the pallid skin, the knowing eyes. "Got any more hiding spells? Anything else to protect me out there?"

  Isaac reached into his pocket and pressed a small cloth sack into Josh’s hand.

  Josh looked at it. "What’s this?"

  Isaac looked at the dancers. "Itse."

  "Itse?"

  "Rub it around your legs and on your boots."

  "What does it do?"

  Isaac turned away from the dancers and looked at him, his eyes blazing like the sun. Sweat rolled down his face. "Snake medicine."

  Josh felt a chill. "Snake medicine?"

  "Snakes don’t like it."

  The performers continued singing and dancing, but Josh ignored them. He looked back and saw his father cross the tracks and walk toward him.

  "Isaac?"

  "Yes?”

  "Where’s Tom?"

  Isaac shrugged. "Don’t know."

  Josh looked around again. "Have you seen Amy?"

  "No.” He looked at Josh’s boots. "If you go, avoid big green plants by little building out there."

  "What ‘big green plants?’ What ‘building’?"

  Josh looked back. His dad made eye contact with him and worked his way toward him through the crowd. Josh was sweating heavily, and the shade of the pines looked inviting. "Isaac, I’m running out of time, and I can’t find Amy."

  "When last see her?"

  "I saw her with the Indian girl—the one with the flower necklace."

  Isaac’s eyes widened. "The one with flower necklace?"

  “Yeah." He felt the fear growing inside him. "Who is she?"

  Behind him, Josh heard his father. "Josh! Damn it! Get your butt over here!"

  Isaac held Josh’s gaze. The Indian’s eyes showed fear. "She is Wilma—step-daughter of One Eye Kanatobi.”

  Josh froze. "One Eye? The fat man in the cave?"

  Josh looked at the edge of the pine forest and felt sick. The witch had tricked him. He said, "Trace didn’t go after me. He went after Amy!"

  "Railroad Boy, the enemy has taken his action. Do opposite of what you feel. Don’t go into woods after her. That’s where he wants you."

  "Josh!"

  His father would be here in seconds.

  "Get over here now!"

  The dancers chanted the Bear Song, and the drum sounded like thunder. Josh looked into the woods and then into his father’s eyes.

  Then he ran through the dancers, past the tipi, toward the pines.

  CHAPTER 15

  Amy stood close to Wilma Kanatobi so she could admire the Choctaw girl’s necklace. "It’s beautiful. Can I touch it?"

  "Here, put it on. Then we’ll gather flowers and make one for you."

  Amy felt the softness and smelled the fragrance of the flowers. "Let’s see," she said, running her fingers over the petals, "Sunflower and Morning Glory."

  "Right."

  They were strolling away from the dancers. Amy liked the dancing, but she wanted to talk with the girl. Wilma Kanatobi was the most beautiful girl Amy had ever seen. Only her hands betrayed her—they were rough and showed the effects of hard work. Amy wiped sweat from her brow; the shade in the woods seemed inviting, yet she felt a warning signal. Behind her the drum sounded like a distant heartbeat, and she turned and looked at the dancers. They seemed to blend in and out of heat waves rising from the ground.

  She felt thirsty. "Is there water in there?"

  “There’s a creek where the deer come to drink," Wilma said. "We might even see one while we’re gathering flowers."

  The shade felt good, and after a few minutes they reached the creek. To Amy, the water tasted cool and sweet.

  Wilma looked into the woods, and her eyes underwent a subtle change, going flat. She seemed to age before Amy’s eyes.

  "At least you got to taste the water."

  Amy felt uneasy. What a strange thing to say, she thought. The forest seemed different. The birds had stopped singing. There was a stillness, broken only by the sound of the creek. The shadows had lengthened. She looked at her watch. Then she saw the man. He was just there suddenly, a tall, well-built Indian wearing jeans, black hat, leather vest, and no shirt. He was carrying a rifle. His silver belt buckle shined in the dappled sunlight. His face was hard, cruel, with empty eyes that seemed to look through her.

  Wilma got up and walked away. In a few seconds, she was gone in the trees.

  At that moment, Amy realized her mistake. Behind her, near the dance ground, she heard an explosion. She turned and saw debris flying through the air. She watched through the trees as the water tower fell against No. 88. She turned back to face the Indian. He kept staring at her. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes remained hard. She saw the life she would not live, the family she an
d Josh would never have.

  She said, "Please. Don’t kill me yet."

  CHAPTER 16

  Josh heard the explosion. He turned and saw the water tower leaning, then crashing against the right side of No. 88. Water hit hot steel, sending steam hissing into the air. People in the stands started screaming as debris landed around them.

  Ed Wade was fifty yards away. "Josh! We need you!"

  Josh froze, staring into his father’s eyes, then into the pines, remembering what he had felt when he saw the witch that night. He touched the pouch in his pocket. "No! He has Amy!"

  "You don’t know that! She may be back here!" Ed swept his hand toward the locomotive. "Remember your promise!"

  Josh clutched the pouch. "I didn’t promise to let Amy die!" He turned and ran toward the trees, his father’s shouts fading behind him. This time his reflexes were not dulled by peyote, nor his vision by darkness.

  He ran through sumac, post oak and pines. The thorns of the stay-awhile and greenbrier cut him. Then he saw a diamondback rattler. Josh swallowed, giving it a wide berth, listening to the rattling buzz that warned him away. He kept running, and tried not to think about snakes—his worst nightmare—but he knew they were out here: rattlesnakes, copperheads, moccasins.

  His problem was nothing compared to Amy’s. The witch had outsmarted him. He stopped and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Then he remembered the itse. He pulled out the cloth sack and rubbed the dry plant over his boots and jeans, hoping it would repel the snakes. Josh tried to think like Trace: Trace’s first goal would be to capture both Josh and Amy. Then they would disappear like the others. Second goal: the railroad would be discredited and ruined. If Trace failed to get Josh, he still had Amy; and the result would be the same.

  An hour passed before he caught the smell.

  He started to climb a hill. A rock gave way under his left foot, and he turned his ankle, the pain shooting up his leg. He loosened the laces and stood up, knowing that he had to move in spite of the sprain. The shadows were lengthening, but there was plenty of light. As he struggled over the terrain, mosquitoes bit him, and sweat rolled into his cuts. Suddenly, he thought about his dad’s call to the narcotics bureau and wondered if they would do something.