The night was especially dark. We were two strangers hiding under an empty boxcar. We could hear the yard dogs howling in the distance and we had to whisper so they wouldn’t hear us talking. I just met him that night and already I could tell there was something about him.You could see in his eyes that he had a story to tell.
     The sky was black and we were waiting for the sun to rise and the first Southern Pacific train heading north. We had a few bottles of wine to get us through the night. This was going to be my first time hopping a freight train, so I was especially nervous. But he wasn’t. He had hopped before and was going to show me the ropes. I was scared, but I knew I had to do it in order to save my soul from this town that was killing it. Nothing has ever panned out for me in this town and I knew it was time to leave it all behind.
     As we drank the wine to ease my fear and warm our blood, he began to tell me about how he grew up hopping freight trains with his mom. His mom was sort of a gypsy and they were always on the run. He told me his mom would constantly wake him up in the middle of the night so they could hop an early morning train away from whatever new-found abusive boyfriend she had enough of and whatever dead end town they ended up in. They would ride the trains until they found a new town and hoped they would have better luck. His mom would get a job as a waitress at some filthy dinner and another boyfriend to help pay the rent. But she was dealt a bad hand with life, and wherever they were, it would always fall apart. And they would end up back at the train yard waiting for another train to take them to their next dead end town. He told me how it got too hard for his mom to take care of him, so she abandoned him and turned him over to the care of the state when he was 10 years old. That was 11 years ago and he hasn’t seen her since. He has always wondered what happened to her and why she never came back for him. So he decided to take to the trains to find her. Tonight was going to be his first attempt to find her. You could tell he was scared, but all those years of pain couldn’t go unanswered and he was determined to find her.
     The sun was beginning to rise and our train was right on schedule. We gathered up our stuff and headed for the tracks. We could see the train moving slowly around the corner. Just as it got close enough, we started to run for it. We ran along side of the train, looking for a spot to hop on. He found an empty boxcar and grabbed a handle and hoisted himself up. I was running right behind him, but I couldn’t keep up and I miss the empty boxcar. By the time another empty boxcar came around, the train was moving too fast and I was left behind.
     It’s been years since that night and I can’t help wondering what happened to him. As for me, I finally got the hell out of that town and found a new life 300 miles north. Whenever I hear the trains on a cold, dark night, I wonder where did the train take him? Did he ever find his mom? It’s strange how every once in a while you will meet someone and only spend a brief amount of time with them, but end up thinking about them for the rest of your life.

Photo by Stan Feldman