Turning toward the house, Lee noticed the back door was wide open as well. It was more than a little shock.
"Hang on Phoebe,” he said and trotted over to the back entrance that led into the laundry room. He poked his head inside and looked around; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. For a moment he thought “Burglars,” but nothing looked different when he'd looked in the front living room. At least the T.V. was still there. If it were burglars they'd have taken the T.V. for sure. It was strange though. He couldn't imagine his dad and Maggie going off and leaving the doors wide open.
Reflexively checking his pants pocket to make sure he had remembered his key, he closed and locked the door, then ran back over to Phoebe and Flapjack.
"You ready?"
She was still testing the tip of her tongue. Letting go she said, “Lead on."
Flapjack followed them down to the tall fence at the back of the yard, waddling along, keeping up on Phoebe's heels like a puppy.
Phoebe looked up at the top of the ten-foot tall chain link fence. Then before Lee could say a thing, she expertly inserted a toe of her tennis shoe in the wire gauge and grabbing on with her fingers, climbed right up and over. Grinning her grin and looking back at Lee from the other side she said, “What ya waitin’ for?"
Lee followed her over, though he hung off the top and let go instead of climbing down as Phoebe had done.
Flapjack immediately set up a clamor.
"Come on.” Lee grabbed her by the elbow. “Let's go before Flapjack goes crazy."
The duck would have followed them, but he couldn't get his timing right and was up too close to the fence, so he ended up jumping up and flapping only to crash again and again into the kudzu-choked chain link.
"Oh, this is great,” Phoebe admired, looking around wide-eyed as they walked further in. “Look at all this neat stuff."
Lee felt a sense of pride, as though he was showing her something all his own. He pointed out different cars and engines and enjoyed filling her in on the histories and half legends.
The handcar wasn't where Lee and Ronnie had left it. It was further up towards the middle of the track, a sure sign other kids had been here recently.
He ran over and got up on one end, and waved to Phoebe, who jumped up on the other side. At first, he thought that they might not be able to get it going, so he jumped off and pushed while Phoebe sat on one handle. With a rusty creak, the handcar moved, and Lee jumped back on to keep the momentum going.
Unfortunately, Phoebe couldn't get the rhythm down; she had to strain and lock her elbows using her weight to push down. With Lee really working at it alone, it was hard to get up any real speed. When they finally stepped off at the far end of the yard they were both pretty winded.
"Whoa,” Phoebe sat down on the edge of the handcar. “That was quite a chore."
Lee just nodded. He really needed to catch his breath.
The afternoon was finally beginning to cool off, as it was now closer to five than it was to noon. Shadows were lengthening and the harsh glare had softened, making everything look less washed out and more solid and real.
"How ‘bout if I show you the train wreck?” Lee got up and checked his hands. He had a new blister on each palm.
Phoebe got up and wiped her dirty hands on the back of her shorts. “Train wreck? Keen-o."
On the way to the corner of the rail yard Phoebe let Lee fill her in on all the gory details.
"You mean it jumped the track at a hundred miles an hour?” she asked, stepping through a series of thick, black railroad ties oozing globs of creosote.
"That's what they say.” Lee pointed to the engine and string of cars off on a track by the fence. “There it is, over there."
With Lee leading the way they both loped over to stand at the very front of the engine.
"Most of the forward boxcars were totally destroyed when the train derailed,” Lee said, pointing back from car to car. “But the cars at the back of the train and the caboose weren't all that torn up."
Phoebe was running her finger over the rusted edge of a front wheel. “Why's that?"
"They say some of the front cars had moonshine in ‘em.” Lee made a woosh sound and threw up his hands. “They exploded. But the back cars, were all for gamblin’ and drinkin'."
"Gamblin’ and drinkin'?” Phoebe asked incredulously. “See, I caught you. You sound just like me."
"Could be worse,” he fired back immediately.
"Yeah, how's that?"
Lee could do a pretty Donald Duck impersonation. He squeezed up his lips and quacked out of the back of his throat. “I could sound like Flapjack."
"Oh that's good!” Phoebe was quite obviously delighted. “Do that again!"
Lee tried to say an entire sentence, but had to give it up. Finally, in his normal voice he said. “See, there's a few things I can do, too."
"Truly a man of many talents,” she replied.
They were walking along from the front of the enormous engine heading towards the back. The enormous black hulk of rusting metal seemed to tower over the two, larger than life.
"Let me tell ya’ about this train,” Lee said proudly. “It was called the Midnight Flyer. Every Saturday night it'd make a run through the valley. People would come from all over. My grandparents even went once. People would get all dressed up. They'd had live music. Bands would come from as far away as Nashville. It was a big deal."
"It was illegal, wasn't it?” Phoebe came back.
"Oh, sure,” Lee replied.
Phoebe gave him her grin. “Keen-o."
The engine, a long, black steamer, had suffered mightily in the wreck. Its front was mashed in, and the cabin, where the engineer had stood just before he died, was twisted flat and turned almost inside out.
"The engineer and fireman died,” Lee offered, though it was readily apparent.
"I don't doubt it,” Phoebe replied. “You couldn't squeeze a cat in the space that's left. Do you think they were able to get the bodies out?"
She pulled herself up onto the steel walkway that had once run around the length of the engine and peered inside the square window on the side.
"Ewww!” she screamed, making Lee jump. “They're in there!"
For a moment Lee started; then he felt embarrassment creep up.
"Got ya,” she laughed, jumping down.
Lee could only grin; after all, she'd made him jump. This was the kind of trick he was always famous for.
Lee stepped up the steps onto the gondola of the first car. He held out his hand, which Phoebe pointedly ignored. She climbed up on her own.
She looked down the empty interior corridor of what had once been a day car. Now though, everything had been removed, and only trash, broken beer bottles, and one right shoe, flung over in a corner, were to be seen.
"This was one of the gambling cars,” Lee explained.
He jumped up to catch an overhead bar, and kicking his feet out and back, he swung back and forth. At the highest, he let go and twisted about in mid air, landing flat-footed with his arms raised to face Phoebe.
She clapped appreciatively, then stepped right up to him with a couple of long strides. She leaned in and quickly planted a kiss right on Lee's lips, then pulled back.
Her eyes actually flashed. “You earned yourself a kiss."
Lee was absolutely astonished. He still had his arms up.
Phoebe grinned her sly grin and touched him on the nose; then stepping back, she jumped up, grabbing the bar and swung twice before letting go. She landed with a hard, hollow bang, and then took off for the back of the car.
Lee was still standing where he'd landed, the dumbest look on his face.
Phoebe stopped at the railing. “Catch me,” she grinned, “and I'll give you another kiss.” She then leapt off the back and over into the next car.
Lee's heart was pounding from way up in his throat, and his stomach had twisted into a cold knot. He hadn't been expecting anything like this. He stood frozen, his brain
locked up. Then he realized what she'd said, and sprang into action with no further thought required.
He jumped into the next car, which was one of the few that still had a couple rows of seats remaining. On each side of the center aisle, there were wooden seats with high backs, almost like pews in a church. He was sure she hadn't had time to have run all the way through, so he walked up to the first seat being careful and quiet to look over the back. Nothing, just shards of broken glass on the floor.
He heard a slight rustle from the right. Once again, as quietly as he could, he stepped forward.
Startling him, Phoebe leapt up from behind the seat. With her loud yell she froze him for a moment and almost made good her escape, but Lee had caught up to her and grabbed her by the waist before she could make it beyond the last row. She tried to wrestle away, giggling and screaming, but he had her.
She twisted in his grip and swiveled to face him. Her face was ruddy and her eyes wild.
"Well,” she said as he just stood there, “you got me. Now what are you going to do with me?"
He really didn't know what to do. He had played kissing games a few times during birthday parties and such, but those few instances were a far cry from this situation. He wanted to kiss her, he really did. But it was that first move. He was stymied and just couldn't do it.
She solved his dilemma by letting herself go soft in his grasp, pressing her body up against his chest, and touching her lips to his.
His heart pounded a crescendo, sticking high up in his throat. He wasn't even sure if he had closed his eyes. Everything was a blur.
Phoebe pressed her lips harder against his, and despite the breathless feeling, he must have been breathing, for the smell of her up close was just one of the many sensations overwhelming him. She moved her lips slightly over his, so he followed suit repeating every nuance of every motion. An alarm of sudden awareness fired off in his head, as it dawned on him he could feel the subtle pressure of each of her breasts up against his chest.
Phoebe pulled back, yet the excitement seemed to surge even stronger. He opened his eyes, which he only now realized he'd closed, to find her looking at him.
She had to clear her throat first before speaking. “You're a nice kisser."
Lee replied without thinking. “You too."
Not knowing what else to do he closed his eyes and moved in for another.
"Uh, uh.” She shook her head. “I said just one."
He opened his eyes.
Whatever look he must have given her, must have been the right one as she said, “O.K. Just one more."
They pressed together even more tightly this time. He was not only aware of her breath, and her lips, but her taste, and, of course, the alluring pressure of her breasts against his chest. He was so aware of their soft pressure he was sure he could feel her heart beating through her shirt. This time, as they lingered together, the whole feeling was different, so much more intense, so much better. With some of the fear and anxiety over the initial panic getting lost in the pleasure he was becoming much more perceptive to all that was going on. He was matching his breathing to hers, though his growing excitement knew no bounds. He'd at some point released his grip on her waist and had actually put his arms around her. Again, suddenly, he was startled by the new realization that it was her actual bra strap he felt under his hand.
She broke it off again, pulling away and then coming back to give him a quick, little peck.
Finally, she had to put her hands on his chest to push herself out of his grasp.
"Come on,” she said catching her breath and swallowing. “What else is there to see?"
Lee couldn't think of a thing; he wasn't even really sure he knew where he was just now.
She had walked to the rear door of the car and then turned back to face him. “Come on, silly. You should see yourself standing there.” She shook her head and again went, “Tsk, Tsk, Tsk."
At last, she had to walk back over and pull him by the hand. “Come on, Lee. You'd think I hit you over the head with a hammer. It was just a little kiss."
Lee knew right then that he'd remember that little kiss, if he lived to be a thousand. And there was also another thing he knew; he wanted to do it again, and soon.
She gave him that squint. “Haven't you ever kissed a girl before?"
"Oh, yeah?” He suddenly came back to himself. “I—Uh—Yeah, sure. Sure, I've kissed a girl.” He tried to think of Ann Palmer, and though he could see her, he just couldn't remember her name right now.
Phoebe let go of his hand, and with a few running steps had launched herself between the gap and was into the next car.
Lee felt awkward as he made the jump as his blue jeans had suddenly grown tight.
They were now in the car Lee had visited with Ronnie only a couple of weeks ago. He always remembered this one by the tatters of wallpaper that still clung in red, velvety patches to the ceiling and walls.
"A bunch of people died in this one,” he blurted out.
"Yeah?” Phoebe was spinning about slowly as she walked. “How many?"
"Twenty or so."
Phoebe touched her finger to a stain on the wall. “Do you think this is blood?"
He got closer. “Probably so."
She took her finger off the wall and slipped away. “I guess they gambled in here, huh?"
"Yeah,” Lee nodded. “My dad told me there was roulette, poker, blackjack, slots, everything."
"What're slots?” Phoebe had stuck her head out of a window and was looking back and forth outside.
"They're these boxes like a pinball machine only upright.” Lee mimed putting a coin in a slot and then pulled an invisible handle. “You put in a coin, and if you get three of something you win."
She put her head back in the window. “And how do you know so much about gambling, Mr. Tour Guide? Do they teach that in your school, too?"
Seizing the opportunity to pay her back for her earlier remark about the pig's foot, he didn't hesitate to say, “There's probably a lot of things I know about that you don't."
"Maybe so? Maybe not,” she said giving him her grin.
She kept walking to the rear of the car, then stopped. “What's in the next one?"
Lee pressed past and made the jump first. From the other side he called back, “More of the same."
"Isn't there anything to really see?” she complained. “Where are all these ghosts you promised me?"
"All we got left after this one is just the sleeper car. It's the last one before the caboose. Maybe there's some ghosts in there?” He held out his hand and this time she accepted it, using it to steady herself as she stretched across the platforms.
"What's in this one?"
"Just another gambling car,” he replied. “I think maybe there was a bar in here."
"What's so special about the sleeper car?” she asked, kicking some glass around with her tennis shoe.
Lee didn't know how to describe it to a girl, even this girl. The words jammed in his throat while he sought an accurate yet polite description of what had taken place back there.
He finally used a word he'd once heard in a Western movie. “It was a bordello."
Phoebe didn't help him out any as she wandered around kicking debris. “A bordello, what's that? Is that like a labyrinth, or what were those pants?"
Lee shook his head. He didn't have any choice but to say it. “Lederhosen,” he came back. “No, a bordello is a place where men pay money to ladies to have sex."
"Oh,” she turned back to face him, that grin plastered across her face. “You mean a whore house."
What is it about this girl? He thought. She's never says or does anything you'd expect.
Maybe she sensed his discomfort as she finally helped him out. “I've never heard of one on a train. That must've been something? Do you think they had a lot of girls? Do you think they were pretty? I wonder how much it cost? I mean, you really think they did it? Right in here? For money?"
Lee answer
ed Phoebe's flood of questions all at once. “I don't know."
"But you do you think they were pretty?"
Before he realized it he blurted out. “Not as pretty as you."
Unfortunately, she had her back to him, so he couldn't see her reaction.
Phoebe didn't turn around. As if she hadn't heard his compliment she stepped out into the sunlight on the landing. This balcony at the rear of the car was made of an ornate wrought iron with a pattern of intertwined leaves and vines. It was twisted and didn't allow for a direct jump to the next car, so they had to get down on the ground and walk around.
Phoebe squinted in the bright sunlight, pointing towards the back of the train. “It's that one isn't it? The bordello?"
"Yeah, that's the sleeper car,” he answered, shielding his eyes as well after the gloom.
"Let's go!” She trotted off in a straight line, directly to the steps and was just stepping inside when Lee caught up with her. He couldn't help but notice the seat of her red shorts were a mess, especially since she'd wiped the pig's feet residue from her hands right on each cheek.
The inside of this car was dark, darker than any of the others. On each side of the central corridor were six wooden cubes, or what was left of them. There was only one that still had a door, but it was jammed askew in its slot in the wall and wouldn't budge. Only two still had the complete walls remaining, and both of those were in the back, on the right.
Phoebe, without even a shred of hesitation, poked her head into the compartment with the stuck door. On the floor were the remnants of a fire that had been built in the bottom of a rusted porch bar-b-que with no legs, and a lot of wadded up newspapers and empty bottles.
"I think someone's been livin’ here,” she said looking back into the corridor to Lee.
"Yeah,” he came back. “Bums stay in the cars sometimes."
"Do you think there's any around now?” Now she looked a bit concerned.
"Don't think so. But you never know."
"Have you ever seen one?"
"Sure.” Lee had seen men back in here on more than a couple of occasions. He and a boy who'd moved away years ago, named Ken Humbly had even once been chased. “Don't worry about it Phoebe. They never stay around for long. There's a sheriff's deputy, we call Fat Larry; he comes around and runs ‘em off."
Evil Heights, Book II: Monster in the House Page 15
