The Boxcar Blues Read Online Free PDF Page A

we're out of sight of the house."
    "O.K. If anyone comes looking for us while
you’re gone, I'm gonna hightail it for the tracks and catch out on
an eastbound."
    Curly said, "Don't worry; I'll get us some
grub."
    Curly ran across the road and approached the
house, while looking the place over. He saw a two story house in
need of paint and some old plows and manure spreaders sitting in
the remains of a shelter. Beside it another shed had collapsed
until it was nothing more than a pile of weathered lumber. In spite
of the signs of despair, someone had put some work into the place.
They had a large vegetable garden, encircled by chicken wire and a
new chicken coop, which sounded as if it housed a couple dozen
hens. The barn had been repaired and beside it a few head of
Guernsey dairy cows lay in a corral. Nearing the door he felt his
chances were pretty good, but that's what he'd thought at the house
back in Dakota Springs.
    Curly took off his hat and gently knocked on
the screen door. He heard nothing and knocked a little harder. To
his surprise, he heard the metallic ‘klatch’ of a pistol being
cocked behind him and a female voice said, "Hold it right
there."
    Curly froze. He never thought he'd never be
apprehended so quickly, but someone had gotten the drop on him and
he could do little about it. Running away crossed his mind, but the
pistol said otherwise. The voice said, "Turn around."
    He did and found himself staring at a tall
red-headed woman holding a Colt Forty-Five that looked like a
cannon.
    Maxine Puckett wore bib overalls and a
gingham shirt. Her long red hair was wrapped up, on top of her
head; sparkling green eyes sized up Curly, "Christ, you're just a
kid," she said as she lowered the pistol. "I thought you were one
of the desperadoes they warned me about."
    Curly said, "Um, how do, Ma'am. I'm just
looking for a little work so's I can get something to eat. I'd be
glad to clean out that barn, or milk your cows."
    "What's your name, boy?"
    "Abraham, Ma-am. Abraham Levitz, but most
people call me Curly."
    "How long since you ate?”
    "Ah, it's been two days, since we ate—I
mean, I ate, Ma'am."
    "Well Curly, I just cleaned and cut up a
couple pullets. You think you could stand some fried chicken and
biscuits with gravy?"
    Curly's mouth started watering at the
thought of such a sumptuous meal. He stammered, "Yes Ma'am, I sure
could, and I'll be glad to work to earn my meal."
    "You say you can milk cows?"
    "Sure can, yes Ma'am."
    "O.K., Curly, my name's Maxine. The milking
stool and bucket are just inside the barn door. Give those cows
some attention and you'll have fresh milk with your dinner."
    "Sure thing, ma'am."
    While milking, Curly thought of how he could
take some food to Catwalk. He didn't want to blow the deal by
telling the lady he'd rather take the food with him instead of
eating here. He was on the last cow when he decided he'd eat here,
and then tell her he'd do some extra work if he could take
something with him.
    When he carried the milk to the house,
however, he found his worries were unfounded. Maxine was sitting on
the back stoop smoking a cigarette. She asked him, "You want a
smoke?"
    Curly answered, "That sounds good.
Ready-mades are hard to come by on the road."
    Maxine handed him a tin of Chesterfields and
asked, "Where’s your friend?"
    Curly coughed. "Beg your pardon, ma'am?"
    "Your friend, the one traveling with you,
where is he?"
    Curly hesitated, but then decided to come
clean. "He's waiting over in the corn field."
    "Not many people travel alone these days. Go
get him. I've got enough for two."
    "I appreciate this, Maxine. I'll be right
back."
    Curly ran across the road and hollered for
Catwalk. He'd yelled three times when he heard, "I hear ya', Curly.
Quit makin' so much noise."
    Curly tugged at his friend's arm and said,
"C'mon, the lady that lives here is real nice and she's fixin' a
fried chicken dinner with biscuits for us right now."
    Catwalk shot Curly a troubled look and