Charley Heads Home!

Charley walked around for a while in the sunny warmth of the railyard, not believing that he was not being harassed or even questioned by anyone. In the air was the familiar smell of hot machinery. As a farmer, he loved that smell. It was somewhat different from the aroma of the farm but he figured machines was machines.

He worked his way down to what he could tell was the far south side of the railyard. There he sighted a cluster of about six rail bums, sitting under a tree that was just starting to turn its fall color. That cloud of green leaves that was beginning to yellow a bit around the edges reminded him that it was definitely time to get on home for the winter. Of course, the trees would be changing up north here much sooner than they would in central Iowa, so he had plenty of time to get that house built before it snowed. Especially when he got his neighbors and family to help like he planned.

The hobos in the group were sitting quite still and at first, it seemed like they weren’t going anywhere soon. As he got closer, he heard them in an intense conversation, figuring out ways to get themselves arrested so they could spend the frigid Minnesota winter in jail, where it was nice and warm, with three hot meals a day. Charley could hardly believe his ears. They were scheming to do crimes that were bad enough for county jail time, but not so bad as to end them up in state prison. They just wanted to be out of the cold for about four months. A hundred and twenty days. His jaw dropped even farther as they actually got up and started off to do their deeds. They were sayin’ to each other that they hoped to see the other ones soon, “in the tank.” Not one bum even glanced at him as he stood a short distance away.

Charley was appalled to think how low those men had to be on dignity and how high their desperation had to be to plan on going to jail. He wanted to talk them out of it, but then he remembered he had his money in his shoe. These men might like to have a nice, warm pair of work boots for the winter. He kept his distance and decided to wait until they were all gone to try to find the right tracks for heading south. If he pushed his luck in his hurry to get home, it could be the cause of him not getting home…like if he was waylaid by these lazy, no-good bums. At least he had been a working bum. In his mind, there was a difference, a big difference.

So, Charley waited in the shadow of a train that was one set of rails away from them. The lazy bums crawled out of a hole in the bottom of the railyard fence, and soon they were all gone. He headed over to the tree they had been gathered around and found a clean place to sit. It wasn’t long until a few more darkly dressed men made their way to the tree. One by one, they came out of the boxcars and around the back of the roundhouses. Charley was leery of all of them, and decided when he saw the first one that he would not be the first to speak. They were a mix of young men and older men, but none of them looked like they had been working outside in the fields. To be as pale as they were at the end of a hot summer, he knew these men were not farm workers. He wasn’t sure what they were. He put his bindle across the top of his shoes, not wanting to give anyone a reason to be jealous of his boots. He thought about standing up but didn’t want to appear aggressive. He was about as uncomfortable as he had been in the whole time since he left Adel that first night.

“Where ya been, farmer?” asked an older man with a crusty white beard.

Charley looked up at the man and slowly replied, “I been in South Dakota.” He still wasn’t sure if he should stand up, but he decided he’d better. The guy was so close that he could have kicked Charley in the head if he felt like it. He stood and added, “Been shockin’ wheat.”

“Well, then you really is a farmer! Ain’t that somethin’!” the old guy exclaimed. “I could tell you been out in the sun a while.”

Charley didn’t really feel like talking with this guy, but he thought he’d better hold his ground, so he asked, “Where you been?”

“Oh, I just came in from Chicago. Promised an old friend I’d meet him here tomorrow; we was here together way last May. Think we’re gonna head south. He’s been up in northern Minnesota looking for work in the iron ore country up there.” He scratched his beard and Charley backed up a little bit, hoping there weren’t any lice on the man. “I hope he’s got some kind of a stake for us to live on, ‘cause I sure didn’t make no dough in Chicago.”

Charley didn’t want to talk about money with this bum, but the craggy man kept after him, “Make good money in them wheat fields?”

Now Charley knew he’d better make up a good ol’ lie, or he was about to get rolled for his money. “I made a fair amount, but I got a bad gamblin’ habit. That’s why my wife left me last year. I done gambled every dime away. I just been sittin’ here tryin’ to think of a way to get myself arrested for the winter.” Then he thought he should add, “Got any ideas?”

The old bum bought his story; his face went blank and he was no longer interested in a conversation. As long as he thought Charley had nothin’, he would leave him alone. Realizing he had just talked his way out of a dangerous situation, Charley turned and quickly worked his way across several tracks and found a boxcar with Rock Island Line printed on the side. He knew that the Rock Island Line went through Des Moines, so he decided to take a chance. He threw his bindle in and hopped up into the car. He moved way to the back and wedged himself in between some large crates. He just wanted to get away from the other bums who were milling around. Charley did not want to get robbed. He wanted to get home. He slid down on his haunches and fell asleep, praying.

Charley was more exhausted than he realized, because when he woke up, the train was nearly at full speed. He looked around, and there was no one else in his boxcar. Hardly believing his luck at getting away from that hardcore bum, he said another prayer. He had to do some thinking about how he felt like God must have been watching over him all these past months.

First, though, he wanted to figure out which direction he was headed. He remembered going to sleep, praying that this boxcar was going to be heading south towards Des Moines. Someone had closed the doors of the boxcar. There was some afternoon light coming in through splits in the floor, but Charley couldn’t see out the sides. How was he going to figure out where he was?

He looked all around the four walls of the boxcar. He was not able to find one crack he could see out of; then he looked up. There was a vent on the top of the car. He could see the shadows, he could tell the sun was coming in, and it appeared as though the sun was on his right, as he faced the direction the train was traveling. That meant the train was going south! He was headed back to Iowa!

“Thank you, Lord,” sprang out of his mouth! He added, “Hallelujah, Lena, I’m comin’ home today!”

Sitting down on the crate behind him, really just falling backwards with relief, Charley let out a huge sigh. He had been kept safe through all his travels and work in the fields. As far as he knew, his family was safe and healthy. He was still exhausted but was feeling blessed. He was just hours from giving Lena that big squeeze he’d promised her in all his letters.

All Charley really needed right now, he realized, was some more sleep. He had been awake almost all the way from Huron, while the two brothers had slept. Crawling back behind the biggest crate where he had been before, Charley gathered up his bindle. He wedged it in behind him, where he had been sitting on the crate below the vent in the roof. If the sunrays ever managed to reach inside that boxcar, he wanted to be right there where they would land on him. It wasn’t chilly, but he longed to feel the warmth on his skin. He had spent so much time outside this summer that it felt strange to be out of the sun’s reach. He couldn’t wait to get back to the farm. Charley wanted to be on his tractor all day, and with Lena all night.

Now, he knew he had to pray again. Charley thanked the Lord for keeping him safe in his travels, but also prayed for it to all be over soon. He thanked Him for sending those two brothers, and even that old Joe bum who helped them escape the railroad bulls that first time getting off the train. Charley prayed for Joe’s continued safety. He was thankful, even for binder machines and for women who don’t use enough salt when they cook. A considerable amount of time was spent being grateful for Al and praying that his soul had been received in Heaven. He prayed again for the brothers and their parents. Then Charley thanked God for Jim and Betty, who were helping Harley and Lena take care of the farm. Finally, as he leaned back with his head resting on the crate behind him, Charley fell asleep.

As the train rolled into a station; the jerky de-escalation awakened him. Charley waited until the train stopped, taking an enormous risk that there would be some railroad bulls waiting. He listened carefully and heard a lot of voices on one side of the train. He figured that was the side facing the station, so he pried open the door on the other side. The midday sun was bright! Especially bright was the gleaming golden dome of the Iowa State Capitol building. He was in Des Moines...his prayers had been heard!

Jumping down onto the gray shale alongside the tracks seemed easy, and he began running west. It was a bit of a stiff-legged jog because he had been in the boxcar for a long time. If he could get over to Grand Avenue, he could hop onto the streetcar out to Valley Junction. Granted, he would be a strange site to the other streetcar passengers, especially going past all the wealthy homes that were constructed on the south side of Grand, west of downtown. He didn’t care. He hadn’t shaved in three days, but he couldn’t think of anywhere to go except a barber shop to get shaved before he saw Lena. He sure didn’t want her to see him with his whiskers like this, but it couldn’t be helped. Well, maybe if he saw a barber shop on the way, he could get a shave. Otherwise, he’d be givin’ her that big ol’ squeeze, whiskers and all! Still, he knew he probably wasn’t gonna get any kisses until he got shaved and cleaned up, but he knew he was gonna get that hug!

He did get stares, starting with the streetcar conductor. It was Saturday, he found out. There was a bunch of ladies who must have been downtown shopping. They had handfuls of department store packages and bags. A few of them stared and the rest of them made a big show of intentionally not looking at him. He was sure he did look out of place, but he didn’t feel out of place that much. He didn’t have much occasion to ride the streetcar previously, mostly just when the family went to the State Fair over on the east side of Des Moines, but it didn’t matter what those other people thought. Soon he would be exactly where he belonged. That’s all that mattered. Some of the folks on the streetcar looked at him like they had never seen a farmer before. Then he realized that he didn’t look like a farmer to them; he looked like a bum. He still didn’t care. Charley knew he was a farmer. He straightened up in his seat and smiled. Most of the passengers looked away when he did that.

The streetcar ran right to Railroad and 5th Street in Valley Junction. That’s where it ended, turned around, and headed back to Des Moines. It was a little bit west of the end of town, but it was the closest point to Commerce. He thought about going to their rental house first, thinking maybe Harley might be there, but he couldn’t wait to see Lena. He figured Lena would be at the store in Commerce. Charley was going straight there.

Stepping down from the streetcar, he started to jog again. He felt like he did when he first met Lena. Joyful. Young. Bursting with energy. He had money in his shoe for his new house. He was going to be sleeping in his own bed. Harley would be making his coffee every morning. In these hard times, Charley had every reason to be happy, although by most standards, he was one of the hardest hit. He smiled as he ran.

Down the hill and around the curve to the Commerce Grocery he ran. He stopped for just a minute, about a hundred yards away. Taking out his handkerchief, Charley wiped his face. He was not even breathing very hard, but he was sweaty. Lena didn’t like hugging him when he was sweaty. He fanned himself a little with his hand. It was about seventy degrees out, so it wasn’t too difficult to cool down. He straightened his hat, then he decided to take it off. Charley ran his fingers over his flat top haircut. It felt neat enough.

He really did not want to alarm Lena by looking like such a rail bum when she finally saw him. His whiskers were a problem, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Then he realized that he’d had the same clothes on for three days. No, that would never do.

Charley walked into the woods next to the road. He went deep into them, about fifty yards, so there was no way anyone passing by could see him. He did a 360-degree turn-around to be sure no one was within sight from any direction, and then he dug into his pack for a set of clean clothes. What had he been thinking? Lena might have screamed, seeing him in those grimy overalls! He pulled out a clean denim shirt that he had always worn on Sundays for church, along with a white t-shirt, and a crisp pair of denim blue jeans. He even changed his socks. He transferred the money from his shoe to his wallet at the same time; it was ready to show Lena what his months away had earned him. There, now he was ready to walk into that store!

Back on the road, a few cars passed him by, going both directions. No stares from those folks. He looked more like a regular fella than a bum now. More confident that his appearance would please Lena, Charley found himself in front of the Commerce store. He needed an entrance plan. He wanted to make it special. Lena would like that. He had looked for some wildflowers alongside the road but had only seen goldenrod and milkweed. He wasn’t gonna give a fistful of weeds to Lena.

Then he got the idea...make it more private. He lowered his voice a little to disguise it and spoke towards the screen front door, “Any shop lady in there to give me a hand out here?” He waited.

“I’ll be right out,” came Lena’s voice.

“Hurry up, please, I need somethin’ right now!” he said, a little more urgently.

The door swung open and there was Lena. She had on her peach-colored dress! His favorite, the one in his daydreams; he hoped he wasn’t dreaming this! His arms opened wide and she was in them instantly. Neither one spoke. It was a silent embrace, except for a little breath that came out of her when he squeezed her so tightly. He felt his arms around her waist, and her arms around his neck. Lena’s sweet face was pressed against his scruffy whiskers, and she didn’t seem to care at all. It felt like time was standing still. Neither one moved, even a bit. He opened his eyes and looked down on her beautiful hair. She tipped her head back and looked at him.

“That’s quite a face full of whiskers you have there, Charles Frederick.” Whenever she called him that, he knew he was in trouble.

“I couldn’t wait to stop and shave somewhere, sweetheart. When I got downtown, I made a bee line for you. I’m sorry.”

“You are not in trouble, honey! I’m just teasing you. Oh my word, it is so good to have you home. Come here!”

She reached up again and grabbed him around the neck. This hug lasted even longer. He was home, in Lena’s arms. Everything would be okay now.