“Come on you bum, you are going to the Clubhouse.” Hands grab and lift me up. I am yanked from the dream world into reality. My two train car mates are already cuffed and being hauled from the car by some men in uniform. I'm cuffed and follow them out.
“What's going on?” I ask, still trying to wake up and grasp what is happening.
“What do you think is happening? We are Canadian Pacific Rail Police. You are being arrested for unlawfully riding this freight train.” the man who cuffed me says.
“Since when is it a crime to hop a freight train?”
“Since I said so. Now shut up before I shut you up. You will be given an opportunity to talk when we get to the Calgary Police station.”
Well that answered my next question. I am in Calgary. I was rudely awakened, although I can't say I am upset that I was. I have never had such a vivid dream as the one I just had. It was scary and confusing, almost as if it was warning me of something.
We get thrown into the back of a van. They slam and lock the doors behind us. My two silent pals don't bother to say a word. A few minutes later the door opens again, and they throw in another train hopper. He is an older gent, long grey hair, bushy moustache, and must of weighed 120lbs soaking wet.
“Hey old timer, you OK?” I ask as he lifts himself off the floor.
“You mean besides being thrown into the back of a van by a group of goons for no reason? Well I'm just fine and dandy my boy. The name is Karl, Karl Jaeger, yourself?”
“Ty O'Brien.” I reach out to shake his outreached hand. The other two deem not to talk, “Are the local coppers always this welcoming?”
“Ha! Well I wouldn't exactly call this twits local cops, they are only CP Rail Police, a glorified private police force if you ask me. As for the Calgary police, they are the same as anywhere else I guess. As in I'd rather take a bath with a grinning alligator then spare a moment for one of them.”
“Do they usually arrest train hoppers? I never had a problem the first time I came through.” Of course the last time I did I was with thousands of other train hoppers.
“Nah. They must be looking for someone. They'll let us go down at the police station. As long as they aren't looking for you that is, heh.”
Walter ratting on me in my dream flashes through my mind. Did he finally spill the beans? Sgt. Foley was looking for me. Combine the two and I could be in big trouble.
Karl must of seen the look of concern on my face, “Don't worry boy. You'll be alright. Just let me do the talking, I'll get us out of this.”
I nod in agreement, humouring him. He seems like an alright old guy, but if the police are really looking for me, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. No matter the smooth talker he thought he was.
I guess the CP Rail Police don't find any more train hoppers, because our van starts moving. The driver is separated from us in the back by cage doors.
“Driver, if you could drop me off at the Fairmont Palliser hotel, I'd be much obliged.” Karl tells the CP Rail Policeman driving the van.
“Old man. You would have to be as rich as a Rockefeller to stay there, and you don't look like no Rockefeller.” the driver says.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I count the Rockefellers as good friends my boy.”
“You don't say? I suppose you were dining with them not a week ago?”
“Yes! How did you know? Well it was like a couple weeks ago. They are always looking for good men you know, I could put in a good word if you want.”
YOU ARE READING
McConnell House
Historical FictionTy, a young man riding the rails is swept up in the events of the Great Depression. He has seen many hardships, like most of that era, and has survived them. But he is about to encounter something even more disturbing when he arrives in Calgary...
