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Box Car Harry-short story By Lonnie Hicks
Posted: Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Last edited: Saturday, October 13, 2012
This short story is rated "G" by the Author.
The railroad dick looked straight at him, his pinkerton eyes unwavering, beady, menacing, and Harry counted his change to see if there was enough for a bribe; searched his thoughts for an escape route, but he was not as young as he used to be and the dick was young, legs like a deer.
He tussled Barney’s hair and said:
“Go there in that thar car and wait for me, got to dump the dick. Wait for my whistle.”
Barney looked up him hesitantly and Harry stammered hoarsely
“Go!”
Barney scrambled on all fours the way Harry had taught him and quickly disappeared under cover of the dark Chicago night.
Always, the dick against the Bos, the rich against the poor was Harry’s thought, been that way since her was born, the wanders, the lose, the lose people on the road trying to find an odd job and a meal, against the railroad fat cats trying to exterminate the railroad people, who what was just trying to get by.
Harry held his breath and told himself to concentrate and finally turned back to the dick and showed himself, full on so as the dick could get a good look at him. The dick wide-eyed and incredulous stared hard at Harry surprised by the brazenness of the tramp and stood stock still for a moment, prey in the eyes of the predator.
Harry swayed a little left and then a little right like a running back taunting the linebacker, which way boy, am I going to bolt, which way is the question. Harry feinted a dash to the right and the dick crouched right ready for the chase, Harry smiled and then feinted to the left, testing the dick’s reflexes. The dick danced to the left enjoying the thrilling moment before the chase.
Harry guessed Barney had had time to secure himself in the car and then Harry dashed straight toward the dick, who was thoroughly surprised and steeled himself for what he thought would be a crash between the two men. But, Harry at the last minute, slanted right allowing the dick to remain close behind but not enough to lay hand on him.
He headed for track 13-for the Great Northern line car.
The dick was breathing behind him; Harry could hear his labored breaths, close enough but not close enough to grab, what was what Harry wanted.
He hit the Northern line yard and saw number 13 looming. The dick was laughing behind him yelping with the sheer joy of it all, feeling he had Harry cornered because the Northern lot was a closed in one, a big wall in the back, a closed station and, of course cars, most closed.
But Harry was aiming toward 13 and lept up into the car and waited for the dick to catch up and see him. Harry looked down at the man’s heaving chest smiling his best Harry smile.
"Come on up" Harry taunted "drinks and cigars in the drawing room after dinner."
Harry smiled again and backed away to the other side of the box car as the copper eyed him warily.
"You can make it." Harry, chided.
The dick made a decision and lept up into the car, unsheathing his Billy Club and putting on his brass knuckles, anticipating clearly the whipping he was going to put on Harry.
Suddenly, Harry turned and opened the other door of the box car, jumped down and locked it behind him, the metal bar clanking with a satisfying sound.
Harry then quick crawled under the car to the other side and then found its latch and locked the startled dick inside the car.
"Ha." Harry exclaimed hearing the dick curse inside.
He turned on his heel to look for Barney and then the two would light out for Oklahoma on the 1am freight to find Barney's parents.