The slowing of the train awakened Joy and she stretched her neck that had been tilted at an awkward angle. Beside her, the smelly old man also woke and started coughing. It was a nasty cough and Joy actually felt sorry for him after hearing Cookie's story about transients.
She offered her handkerchief and the man's eyes met hers in a lucid moment. He shook his head and reached into the pocket of his filthy trousers to pull out a disgusting rag.
Cookie said, "We're pullin' in to some backwater town. It'll be night soon. You best be careful 'bout stayin' in the depot if yer train don't leave fer awhile."
Joy asked, "What about you? Are you continuing onward?"
"No. This is the end-of-the-line for me. I'll be livin' here fer awhile, lookin' fer work, so's I can buy another train ticket."
The train screeched as it pulled into the station and the passengers, anxious to depart the iron monster, began gathering their belongings. Joy couldn't blame them. The stagnant air had become unbearable and the seating excruciatingly uncomfortable. The old gent next to her stood to his feet and staggered. Without a backward glance he started down the aisle, but was halted by the multitude of passengers rushing to exit.
Cookie said, "We might as well wait 'til it clears. I got no desire to be pushed and shoved tryin' to get out of here."
Joy said, "I agree." Her stomach grumbled and she suddenly realized how hungry she was. She placed a hand over her belly and sighed. She sure hoped the depot had a café that was still open.
"You're such a greenhorn," said Cookie, "I'm kinda concerned 'bout yer safety. If you got kin folks, maybe you should git ahold of 'em."
Inhaling a long breath, Joy said, "I know this sounds crazy, but there's something I have to do on my own. I first got the idea when I was twelve, but I always figured it was impossible. Even when I started my journey a year ago, I thought it was a pipedream, but things have…well, taken a turn and I'm determined to turn with them." She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry that sounds so confusing, but it's the best way I know to describe it."
Cookie tilted her head. "Actually, I think I understand." She motioned toward the front of the car. "Looks like we can git off now."
The moment they stepped down the portable steps, Joy gulped fresh air into her lungs. Granted, it was filled with smoke from the train, but it was preferable to unwashed bodies. She hesitated and looked in both directions. Cookie hesitated beside her.
Cookie pointed, "If ya have to buy a ticket it'd be best if ya got it now and hung out in the diner fer as long as you can. After that, stay close to the ticket booth 'cause somebody's always there. That way, if a creep gives you trouble the clerk can call somebody to help." She smiled. "Hey, it's been nice meetin' ya, Joyrider. I wish you the best and God bless." She started to walk away.
Joy said, "Wait! Why don't we have supper together?"
Cookie turned and grinned. "I ain't got no money fer that. And I don't take charity, if you're offerin'."
"I'd like to buy you supper."
Cookie shook her head. "I may be poor, but I don't like handouts. I work fer my money." She lifted her hand and waved before turning and walking away again.
Joy called, "How about you come and work for me and I'll pay you with food and train tickets. We could go to Montana together."
Cookie halted and jerked around. "What kind o' work would I do fer ya?"
Joy laughed. "You'd teach me how to survive on my own. Maybe keep me from getting myself killed."
A smile tilted Cookie's lips and lit her eyes. "Well, if ever somebody needed teachin', it's you."
Joy stuck out her hand. "Is it a deal?"
Cookie walked back to Joy, stared down at her outstretched hand, and then grasped it in a firm shake. "It's a deal, Joyrider."
The bustle around the depot soon slowed as passengers entered the building or were met by loved ones and escorted to waiting automobiles or carriages. The baggageman unloaded the baggage car and Joy wished she had her trunk. Perhaps she had been foolish in leaving so suddenly, but now that she was on her way to Montana there was no turning back. Cookie grabbed her hand and pulled her into the depot.
Joy spotted a map of the train's route. "Looks like the train's headed for Pascoe in Washington and then Spokane, then it goes through Idaho and ends up in Whitefish, Montana. Do you know if Whitefish is near Glacier National Park?"
Cookie shrugged. "I don't know."
A voice, somewhat familiar, said, "It's not far, my dears."
Both women turned to see the filthy transient sitting on a nearby bench. He appeared to be in his right mind.
Joy said, "Thank you, sir. Are you feeling better?"
The man's bloodshot eyes studied her face and he smiled. Rather than answer her question, he said, "You best stay with that Cookie girl because she has smarts. She'll keep the pickpockets away from you."
Joy glanced at Cookie and then back at the old man. "What's your name, sir?"
His smiled widened and he glanced at Cookie. He said, "Miss Cookie, I think you need to enlighten this young woman that it isn't smart to talk to strangers; especially old drunks."
Cookie nodded her agreement.
Before she could reconsider her words, Joy said, "Sir, if you'll wash up, I'll invite you to supper with Cookie and me. I have a few dollars, and since we share a history of riding the rails together, it only seems fitting."
The old man laughed so hard he started coughing again. Joy thrust her hankie into his hand. When his coughing quieted, he said, "I had a bout with pneumonia a few weeks back. After I collapsed, the physician wanted to stick me in the hospital. I told him I'd rather stare down a king cobra. He said I'd be dead within a week. Looks like I proved him wrong." He looked from Joy to Cookie. "I would be honored to dine with you, but only if our Cookie agrees."
Cookie snorted. "Sure, join us. But if you try anything, I'll gut you with my knife."
The man stuck out his hand that was free of the hankie. "Fair enough. My name is Crusty…not Dusty or Rusty…but Crusty."
Cookie snorted again. "Is it 'cause o' all the crusty layers o' dirt on ya? I ain't shakin' yer hand 'til it's clean."
Intrigued, Joy watched the interaction between Crusty and Cookie as the two of them measured each other.
Crusty said, "Very astute observation, young Cookie, but no, the name belonged to a hound that traveled with me in my youth, and when he took his place with the hounds in the sky, I took on his name for sentimental reasons."
Cookie asked, "So what's yer real name?"
"It's of such little significance I shall keep it to myself. Now, regarding my dishabille, there's a lavatory beyond the posting boards. I shall go cleanse and return in a few minutes."
Cookie said, "It's gonna take more than a few minutes."
Joy could hear Crusty laughing all the way past the boards. Cookie turned on Joy. "If you had brains, you'd be dangerous. Why'd you invite that ol' sidewinder to eat with us?"
Joy shrugged. "I have a gut feeling he's okay. If not…" she shrugged again, "you'll earn your money keeping us safe."
Cookie shook her head and changed the subject. "I got to pee so bad I'm 'bout to wet my knickers. Let's go find the water closet."
After Joy and Cookie returned to the waiting room, they glanced around for Crusty. "Maybe he thinks we just left him behind," said Joy.
"Sounds like a good idea to me," responded Cookie.
They were surprised when a gentleman in an outdated gray wrinkled suit stepped forward. "Ladies, may I escort you to the dining room?"
Both women stared in confusion at the speaker and then Joy questioned, "Crusty, is that you?"
The man laughed. "It is I."
"But what happened to your filthy…er…other clothes?"
He lifted his knapsack. "Packed away for future use. I decided to dress for the occasion."
An awful odor wafted from the bag and Cookie plugged her nose. "Ugh. I think you should trash those rags. If not, I don't think I can eat with you."
Crusty moved his gaze to Joy and when she lifted her index finger below her nose, he bowed in a gentlemanly fashion, and responded, "As you wish. I shall return shortly."
Joy and Cookie watched him walk to a trash can, open his worn knapsack, and dump the clothing. Joy murmured to Cookie, "I didn't even recognize him with his face washed and hair combed. He's actually kind of nice looking for an old man. How old do you think he is?"
Cookie tilted her head, considered the question, and then called across the room, "Hey, Crusty, how old are ya?"
He finished reclosing his bag and walked back. "Older than the hills." He seemed to reconsider his response. "I don't exactly know. I've been on my own since I was about six is my guess. My earliest recollection is being beat up by a cantankerous old man. I don't recall my mother. After the old fart finished clubbing me, I took off. So, to answer your question, I'd say I'm in the neighborhood of sixty, give or take a few years. Probably more like give. Why?"
Cookie said, "I'm not the one who wants to know, Joy is."
Crusty looked at Joy and she stuttered, "It-it just seems that if we're all dining together we should know about each other. I'm twenty-four."
"Well, looks like I'm the baby at seventeen," Cookie smirked. "Is there anything else we need to clear the air with? My stomach's done twisted itself backwards, it's so hungry."
Crusty said, "Joy, if you've exhausted your questions, may I escort you ladies to dinner?" He held out his elbows and Cookie latched on to one, pulling him in the direction of the arrow pointing toward the diner.
Joy hastened her step and placed her palm against his other elbow. At the entrance to the diner, a skinny woman of enormous height carrying two plates on each forearm and a cup in each hand, called loudly, "Just find a seat. I'll be right with you."
Crusty motioned with his head. "How about over there, lovely ladies? It will allow us to view the comings and goings in the depot. I have often traveled this way…" he lowered his voice and confided, "although rarely as a paying customer." He raised his voice again, "And the Washington, Idaho, and Montana countryside you shall soon encounter is magnificent." He pulled out chairs for the ladies.
When the tall waitress moved to their table with pencil and pad in hand, Crusty said without looking at the menu, "We'll have a family meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cornbread, mixed vegetables, and peach cobbler."
Joy gulped and mentally calculated the money in her reticule and decided she might have to covertly reach under her skirt and extract more bills from her secret pouch. Perhaps inviting Crusty had not been such a good idea.
In spite of her anxiety over the cost of the meal, Joy soon found herself laughing at Crusty's travel tales. And when he spoke of Montana, she asked with enthusiasm if he'd ever been to the northern part of the state.
"Oh, my dear, Joy. I have often passed that way. The country is remote, beautiful, and sometimes hostile."
Joy's breath caught. "How is it hostile?"
"Its very remoteness makes it a place one would not want to become lost in. Wild animals abound." He winked. "And perhaps, even in this modern age, a renegade Indian. It's Blackfoot territory, you know." He lifted a fork of mashed potatoes to his mouth.
Joy wasn't sure if he was jesting about the Indian or not.
Cookie said, "Crusty, I got a question fer ya? How come you look like a hobo, but talk like a fine gentleman?"
Crusty lifted his napkin and blotted his mouth. "That's a fair enough inquiry." After another coughing spell, he apologized, and continued, "Although I lived my young life on the streets, I aspired to become an educated man, so I watched and learned from gentlemen of wealthy households who hired me as their go-to boy." As if confirming what he'd learned, he used his fork and knife to cut into a piece of fried chicken.
Cookie picked up a drumstick with her fingers, bit into it and said with her mouth full, "So why didn't ya become a butler or somethin' like that in one of them fine households?"
Crusty swallowed before answering. "The call to adventure was too great."
His answer seemed to satisfy Cookie, but for Joy it fired her curiosity. She had a feeling Crusty was only skimming the surface with that revelation.
The harried waitress brought their ticket and Joy inwardly cringed. Halfway through their meal, Crusty had ordered more fried chicken and potatoes. The waitress, whose nametag identified her as Rosetta, reached to place the slip on the table, but Crusty retrieved it from her grasp. He said, "Thank you, my darling Rosetta. You have been most proficient and you shall be generously rewarded."
Joy blinked and looked at Cookie, who appeared equally surprised. Crusty glanced at the tab, fished into his pocket for a wad of bills, pulled off a few, and handed them to Rosetta. The waitress grinned, which made her face pretty. "Ya'll are welcome in my diner anytime." She winked at Crusty. "And if'n you're still here tomorrow, I get off at noon."
Crusty returned her grin and then looked sad. "Alas, my dearest, our train leaves in an hour for the wilds of Montana. But if I should find myself once again at this lovely depot, I shall most definitely treat you to dinner at a fine establishment." He stood and motioned, "Shall we depart, ladies?"