Before he knew it, Roger had eaten the entire piece of bread and it was getting dark. He was worried because it was nearly night, and he was going home empty-handed. Roger raced home as fast as he could, smacking trashcan lids with the rolled up magazine. Maybe he and Michael and his mom could go to Minnesota. Maybe things would be better than in Manly, Iowa.
“Where have you been?” Michael asked as soon as Roger walked through the door. “Where’s your food. What did you get today?”
“I don’t have anything. The trash at the bakery was empty.”
“LIAR! You ate it, didn’t you? I told you before, Mom has to eat too. You selfish little rat.” Roger watched Michael’s chest puff out like it always did when he was about to attack. He felt his knees start shaking; he didn’t want another black eye or broken arm.
“Wait, I know where we can go,” Roger tried to interrupt.
“What do you mean, dipshit? We’re not going anywhere,” Michael yelled back even though Roger was standing right in front of him.
“Minnesota! It’s beautiful, look.” Roger showed Michael the pictures in the magazine.
Michael rolled up the magazine and began smacking Roger in the head with it.
“Stop it,” Roger screamed as he tried to cover his head. He felt the rolled paper pound on the back of his skull through his knuckles. He crouched on the ground and tried to imagine Minnesota; Michael would be happy there, and he wouldn’t beat Roger up anymore, Mom would talk again, things would be okay. His forced daydream ended as Michael caught the rolled magazine on Roger’s ear. He started to hear ringing.
“I’m not going to stop. I’m going to beat you until you’re dead. I can’t stand you! All you do is eat everything and whine.”
“I tried, Michael. I really tried,” Roger cried.
Michael’s eyes were black and deep, and a scowl creased his forehead. As Michael continued to twist the rolled paper in his white-knuckled hands, Roger feared his brother would find something harder to hit him with.
Michael looked down at the floor for what seemed like forever. Then, very calmly, very sternly, he said, “Get out of here. Just leave, Roger.”
Roger cried harder, and murmured, “Mom?” She sat rocking, and didn’t even look at him. He thought about pleading, but Michael’s eyes had turned all black, he forced his lips tight against each other, and he lifted his chest high with each hot breath. Roger ran out the front door and down the street. He ran, and ran. He couldn’t see a thing because his eyes were full of tears. When he finally ran out of breath, he collapsed in front of the barber shop. All the stores in town were closed, but the barber shop had a bench and an awning so he decided to stay there for the night. He couldn’t go home.
Roger fell asleep clutching his Minnesota dream, but awoke startled by falling trashcans across the street. Alleycats scurried down the block and started sniffing the next set of cans. It was very dark. Only half of the streetlights were lit, something the city officials had decided was a money-saver. He remembered that his dad thought they should turn them all out after midnight. He was glad they hadn’t taken his father’s suggestion.
Roger was afraid to go back to sleep, so he started down Main Street toward the railroad tracks. He hoped he could find a railcar to sleep in. Something sheltered from the night. As Roger approached the rail yard he heard loud voices. There were men surrounding a small ground fire, breaking bottles on the tracks. Two wore plaid farmer’s shirts and coveralls with holes in the knees. One man had a shirt with no sleeves, and only one-half of a pant leg. Another guy didn’t seem to have a face under a cover of scraggly, sandy-colored hair. They all cackled when a bottle broke and flames shot up from the trash can, and when they laughed, the flame lit their jagged-sharp teeth. The men’s mouths reminded Roger of the Jack-O-Lanterns at Halloween. Roger hid behind a pile of railroad ties, peering at the ghost-like men. Roger remembered his father saying there were men who worked “under the table at the railroad.” He supposed these must be them because they were dirty from crawling around underneath it, though he wondered where that table was. After a few minutes, Roger decided he should go back to the bench at the barber shop. Cats were less scary than these men.
“Whatcha doin, boy?” A deep voice said. Roger screamed and ran. He barely glanced at the figure behind him. The other men saw him running and shouted after him.
“Leave him be. I’ll find him,” the deep-voiced man commanded.
Roger ran under rail cars, down the tracks, and hopped inside a car that had a door propped open. Rows of stacked bags of feed corn filled the dark car. Roger climbed over a stack to the corner to hide. He tucked his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes. He sobbed, but tried not to make noise.
“Little boy,” the man hollered, “Where are you? Come on out, son. We won’t hurt ya.” Roger could hear the man’s footsteps coming nearer. “You hidin in one of these cars? I know what’s in all these cars, son. I bet you’re in with the feed corn, huh?”
Roger closed his eyes tight and covered his head. He wished the man would just go away. The car door began to squeak and clank, and then he heard the man jump up into the car.
“If you’re in here, boy, just come out. Don’t do anything silly. I told you you’re gonna be fine. My name’s Henry. I’m the railroad master. I’m in charge of the whole railroad. I can help you.” Roger didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t get past this man, he knew that. But maybe he was hidden far enough in the dark that the man wouldn’t find him.
“You hungry, kid? Here, have an apple,” Henry said as he tossed an apple right into Roger’s lap. Roger jumped a bit when the apple landed.
“I just got lost going home,” Roger lied. He wanted the man to think he had a home to go to. That someone would miss him if the man tried to steal him. Scary men stole children all the time.
“Alright, son,” Henry replied, “we’ll get you home. Just come out of there.”
Roger stood up so he could see the man’s face.
“Hi there, name’s Henry. What’s yours?”
“Roger.”
“Nice to meet you, boy. Now get out here where I can have a look at ya.”