Across the Border (6 page)

If Chad was discouraged, he didn't show it. Preparations went ahead for their departure. When they were ready to leave for Willow Creek in September to pick up the rest of the group, the prairie was beginning to look green again, and things were returning to normal.

By the time the group was ready to leave Willow Creek, Nebraska, only three families were making the journey. One family had decided to leave later. Another had illness and abandoned the idea. Two others admitted to being fearful.

“I hear tell that's wild country down there,” Ed Swartz told Chad. “I don't want to get in the middle of no civil war.”

Ben Archer chimed in. “Yep, and they're havin' trouble with bandits. Some of them revolutionaries are coming right on over to the United States, crossin' the border like it weren't even there!”

Chad listened politely but wouldn't be turned back by threats of danger. “We'll be as safe there as we are at home in South Dakota or Nebraska. We aren't far from Fort Randall here in South Dakota, and there's a regiment that does nothing but settle the range wars. Some homesteaders have fenced their land with barbed wire so the Indians can't graze their stock or hunt buffalo. Doesn't make for good feelings, I can tell you.”

“Don't think it's a land dispute in Mexico,” Ben said. “Seems more like they're fightin' over the government. And if the United States has got their own folks down there, they're gonna want a say in what goes on.”

Chad nodded. “Could be you're right. But I'll stay out of their politics. I'm just going to homestead my land, sell it, and come back.”

Manda was disappointed that Lydia Archer wouldn't be going. “I thought we might be neighbors again. I don't know Emma Sellers or Mary Brooks as well.”

“You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted,” Lydia predicted. “You'll be in pretty close quarters for a while.”

The prospect didn't enchant Polly. “I remember our last move, and it was only into the next state. I don't look forward to havin' my home move under me for however long it takes to get there. And how many young 'uns are we gonna have to look after?”

“The Sellers haven't any little ones,” Lydia said. “A fifteen-year-old boy and a girl who's seventeen. The Brooks have two girls, eight and eleven.”

The group decided to travel by train to El Paso, Texas. “With fewer people than we expected, it'll be cheaper and faster than taking the wagons,” Chad said. “Seventeen people can ride comfortably in one train car, and it won't take much over two weeks to reach the border in El Paso.”

The morning of their departure from Willow Creek, Ethan sat on a trunk and leaned against the station house. The familiar smell of the railroad-yard tar and gravel dust surrounded him. He had only to close his eyes to bring back the scene of his arrival at this station four years earlier. He had been about the age Simon was now, and although he hadn't admitted it, even to himself, he'd been afraid. He and the others were just getting used to the Briarlane Christian Children's Home, where Matron Daly had cared for them so lovingly.

In his mind, Ethan saw the big steam engine puffing and snorting, the long trail of railcars behind it, and the two coaches that were the orphans' home. It had taken several weeks to reach Willow Creek, with frequent stops to leave children in towns along the way. Today he would be leaving on a train again, but not as an orphan. There was another difference that mattered to Ethan even more. He'd already been without Bert's company for the years they had been in South Dakota, though the two had exchanged letters as much as possible. Now Ethan was leaving again without his friend. They wouldn't be going to school together this year as they'd planned, and Ethan didn't know how long it would be until he saw Bert again.

Suddenly, as if in answer to a wish, someone poked him on the arm. Ethan looked up at Bert's freckled, grinning face.

“Papa let me ride in on Trotter this morning to see you off,” Bert said. “So you're really goin' to Mexico?”

“It looks that way. I sure wanted to go to school with you this fall.”

“Hey! You can do that next year! Ain't you excited 'bout travelin' so far away?”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Ethan admitted. “Maybe you get to go to another country only once in your life.”

“Some of us don't get to go that often,” Bert said. “You don't know what it'll be like there, but you sure know about livin' on a train. I guess it's a little like goin' to a home you don't know nothin' about, but at least you're used to the people you're with.”

Ethan nodded. “I need to keep my eye on the others, too. Maybe you ought to come along to see that I don't lose anyone.”

“I wasn't much help when you lost Will back at Briarlane. And remember Simon followin' that itty-bitty circus lady with the hat and purse? Who knows what they'll find to do in Mexico?” Bert grinned.

“That's what I'm afraid of.” Ethan sighed. “I suppose I'll always be responsible for them.”

Bert regarded him with a sober expression. “Listen, Ethan. You got to start livin' your own life. They got a papa and mama to look after 'em now. You won't be watching out for 'em every minute when you go away to school. You might as well begin gettin' used to it now.” He picked up the bag he had dropped beside him. “I almost forgot. I brought you somethin' to take on your trip.”

Bert dug out a book and handed it to Ethan. “Remember this?”

“The drawing book I gave you when we came here!” Ethan looked at his friend in amazement. “You still have it after all this time?”

“Sure. Ain't you still got the key I gave you?”

Ethan pulled a big key from his pocket. “Of course. I'd never lose this. It reminds me that God will help me whenever I pray.” He turned the key over in his hand. “I'll probably need it lots more, too. But, Bert, why are you giving back my book?”

“I want you to use it while you're gone. You can draw pictures to show me where you've been. It ain't yours to keep—I want it back with more pictures in it.”

Together they spread the book out and looked at the pictures Ethan had drawn four years ago. They started with Briarlane, where both boys had lived.

“Here's the day we left.” Bert pointed out the train and the people gathered around to see them off. “I wonder how Hugh is gettin' along.”

“He's probably a big banker by now,” Ethan said, “or at least working with his father at the courthouse.”

Bert nodded. “And look … here's Hull-House in Chicago, where we waited for the Orphan Train. Are you goin' through Chicago this time?”

“No. Luke says we'll be going west to Colorado, and then south to Texas. We'll go through New Mexico, too.”

“I kinda wish I was goin' with you,” Bert said wistfully, “but I don't wanna leave my folks. I'll be lonesome just goin' to school in Kansas.”

“Next year I'll be there too,” Ethan assured him. “Pa says we'll be back for harvest.”

Bert picked up some pebbles and tossed them across the tracks. “So you're callin' him Pa now, huh?”

Ethan shrugged. “When we first came, he didn't seem to want me to, but now I feel like I belong. He's been a father to me. I never thought much of my own pa, but Mr. Rush takes good care of us. And he doesn't lose his temper as much as he did when I was younger. I guess I've learned a lot.”

Bert smiled. He jumped up and challenged Ethan. “Come on. I'll race you down to the water tower.”

By the time Ethan and Bert had returned to the station, warm and out of breath, all the passengers were gathered at the front of the platform, and the baggage was ready to load. Ed and Rilla Swartz, along with Ben and Lydia Archer and other neighbors, had come to see them off.

Rilla Swartz was in tears. “Probably never see 'em again,” Ethan heard her whisper to her husband. She sniffed. “Them bandits will get 'em before the year's out.”

“What's bandits gonna do with all them folks?” Ed scoffed. “If they was smart enough to catch 'em all, they'd be too smart to keep 'em. 'Specially Manda Rush and Polly. Now there's two ladies as would have their freedom right quick.” Ed chuckled. “And Chad would have all their land took over. Nope. The bandits won't touch that bunch.”

In a flurry of last-minute activity, everyone boarded the train, and all seventeen travelers were ushered into one coach.

“Haven't had a bunch this big goin' south before,” the conductor told them. “Had a big church group from Russia that settled up north a few years back. In fact, the railroad took 'em up free because the folks was staking out land the company wanted to get rid of.” He helped the men put bags and boxes on the overhead shelves. “Too bad they don't have that arrangement going south. At least you have a coach that will go clean to the border. That's as far as our rails run. I think you'll be comfortable here. You let me know if you need anything. I'll give you notice when we're coming to a town so's you can get off a bit if you want. Here's blankets and pillows, and the dining car's up ahead. You make yourselves at home, and I'll see if the baggage car's loaded.”

“Chatty, ain't he?” Polly exclaimed as the conductor returned to the platform. Then she gestured around the car that would be their home for a while. “Good thing Ma's not alive to know about me goin' off the edge of the earth. She never trusted them trains neither. Called 'em ‘iron monsters breathin' fire.' I call 'em dust buckets. By the time we get where we're goin', we'll be so crusted over, we won't be cleaned up till we start back.”

“I don't think it'll be quite that bad,” Manda assured her. “It's not like living in a house, but we can keep some order, even if it is in a small space.”

The engine hissed and steamed as it moved slowly away from the station. Ethan stood in the doorway and waved at Bert until Willow Creek was out of sight. Ethan had made friends at church in Winner, but somehow none were the same as Bert. He and Bert had shared a life that the others knew nothing about. Being an orphan did make you different from regular folks, Ethan decided.