Chapter 3

Ivan was taken to a little shack near the tracks, about a quarter of a mile from the train station. Inside the little shack a woman was busy cooking some food on the wood stove which also served as the main heat for the dwelling. She turned to smile at Ivan.

“So this is Ivan Yanosh, from New York,” she said still stirring the food in a large skillet.

“I Romanian,” Ivan said proudly. Then he said with disgust “I not like New York.”

“Smart . . . little squirt . . . eh!” she said to her husband who was washing his hands.

“That smells good,” said her husband “What is it?”

“Just some potatoes, with bacon and mustard greens,” she said.

“What no real meat?” he asked harshly.

“Not at 15 cents a pound,” she barked. “If the railroad would only come across with a few dollars more, then we could live on steaks, roasts, ribs, and . . .”

“Alright, I get the message,” he said as he sat down at the make shift table. It was made from a crate that had been used to ship a part for the engines. So was all of the furniture in the room, including the bed. The little dwelling was devoid of any curtains for the windows, just some old gunny sacks spread over each one to prevent anyone from peaking into the interior.

“I hope he doesn’t eat much,” she said quietly to her husband. “I could only get four potatoes off that rail car. If I tried to get more, well, the guard was getting too close.”

“What about some fuel for the stove?” he asked.

“I dragged a big box over from the dump, so you go bust it up after we eat,” she said.

Ivan was given a small crate to sit on at the table. His plate held a helping of the potatoes, a couple pieces of bacon along with some leaves of fresh mustard greens and a slice of wheat bread. They said grace over the meal and ate it in silence. The man went outside to break up the box, while she washed the tin plates. Once they were dried and put into a crate hung on the wall to serve as a cabinet, the woman helped Ivan out of his clothing, except for his underwear. That he would not permit. She took the clothing and washed them in a tub of water she had placed on the wood cook stove before they had eaten the meal. A make sift bed of wood fibers in a medium sized crate and covered with a home made quilt had been prepared to serve as Ivan’s bed. He quickly rolled up in the quilt. When the husband returned with an arm load of sticks from the box he had busted, he placed them into another box near the stove.

“Here,” she said “put these clothes on the line to dry.” He took Ivan’s clothes and hung them on a rope that was stretched across the little shack. He then removed his clothing to lie down on the bed. She put a few pieces of wood into the stove. Blowing out the oil lamp which was the only source of light, she removed her clothing and lay on the bed beside her husband. With the main light now out, some small steaks of firelight escaping though the loose joints in the cast iron stove, danced on the walls and ceiling of the cabin.

Early next morning Ivan was wakened by the woman.

“You got to get up now and get dressed,” she said kindly.

She helped him into his clothes which were not quite dry. There was a slight feeling of dampness about them. She then gave Ivan a piece of bacon and a biscuit, which was hard. However, he did manage to chew it. The man was not in the shack and Ivan looked around for him out the window, after pulling the gunny sack covering to one side.

“Don’t do that,” she yelled at Ivan. “If any one sees you, we could get in trouble.”

“I make no trouble for you,” Ivan said as he released the sack material. The woman came and took Ivan in her arms.

“I know you wouldn’t, I’m sorry I yelled at you, so please don’t be afraid of me.”

“Great lady, you are,” Ivan said.

“Oh! Dear, you really think so?” she asked.

“Yaw,” said Ivan. She held him close and repeatedly kissed his face. In walked the husband about that time.

“What’s this?” He asked jokingly. “You got a new boyfriend?”

“You bet,” she said as she released Ivan. “He thinks I’m a great lady.”

“Well, so do I,” he said. “Now guess what I got.”

“What?” she asked loudly.

“How about some milk, eggs, coffee and some flour” he said.

“Where did you get them?” she squealed.

“From a work crew train,” he said.

“Ah hah, you didn’t steal it did you?” she gasped.

“No,” he said with gaiety in his voice “The people on the work train gave them to me. They have agreed to take Ivan with them.”

“I thought Carl was going to take him to Nashville,” she said.

“He’s out sick, so I had to find another, so he’ll go on the work train.”

“When?” She asked.

“This afternoon,” he said.

“Good,” she said joyfully. “How about I make an omelet for my men folk?”