Ironhorse

80

Uncle Ted let off the brake, moved the Johnson bar forward, pulled back on the throttle. The Ironhorse shuddered as it built up combustion in the boiler.

“Here we go, boys,” Uncle Ted said. “Here we go.”

Billowy white clouds of steam escaped from the drain cocks on the cylinders wafting across the depot steps. Uncle Ted pulled the whistle cord twice, letting out two long blasts, and the big engine started to chug. After a moment we were rumbling slowly away from the depot. I looked in the window of the office and saw the faces of Hobbs, Jenny, and the governor watching as we moved off up the track.

Sam tipped her bowler and put her arm around Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie waved enthusiastically.

As we got going faster, Uncle Ted’s odor drifted away with the wind, and for the moment all I could smell was the burning of the coal.

Virgil settled in on the off side of the cab. He lit a cigar he got from Berkeley and watched the scenery pass by. I settled on the engineer’s side and found myself a place to sit on the front of the tender. I took off my coat, rolled it up, and made myself a seat. I got as comfortable as I could possibly be under the circumstances and even found a place to rest my head.

Uncle Ted was inching up the throttle as Berkeley was feeding the boiler with coal, and we were starting to move pretty fast.

I looked back to Half Moon Junction as we moved up the incline, and it wasn’t long before the town was no longer in sight.

We made our way through the dynamited cut where Virgil and I left the coach and around the wide bend as the Ironhorse thundered strongly up through the quartz hills covered with oaks, pinions, and junipers.

Again, like the day before, we traveled the winding rail heading up the Kiamichi. When it got close to five in the afternoon we slowed on a long, flat stretch and stopped just past a red-painted switch target. Berkeley got out, made the switch and Uncle Ted throttled the Ironhorse off the main track and stopped on the pass where a stand of elm shrubs divided the pass lane from the main line. We waited for about thirty minutes before we saw it coming. The Southbound Express came upon us fast, and within a moment it passed with a short blast of its whistle and was gone.

Berkeley again switched the track, and within a few moments we were back on the main rail and heading north. Uncle Ted gave the Ironhorse some throttle, we picked up steam, and in no time we were on our way, running strong.

The late-afternoon sun pushed through faraway copper clouds, prompting rich shades of deep purple, red, and orange. I saw some doves heading south, and I wondered about the day, the month, the time of year, and I wondered when the weather was going to turn and start getting cold.