Addiction - Chapter VI

Soon…

Well, I promised you a story about the money, but I guess you want to know about that card now. My fault for jumping around like this, but I like these kinds of stories. You have to really pay attention to what’s going on; you gotta read the clues.

Now, how I made the money...

Remember when I said that the trains needed someone to keep track of things, like the schedule and cargo? Well, I started to do that myself. Not that I got a job with the railroad, no sir. What I did was I recorded things down for the farmers and the others who turned up and wanted to keep things pretty accurate. Mr. Prescott was not just a “dunce’s dunce”. He was also getting on in years and he wanted to get out of his line of work, but the pension was going to be handed to him right away, so he kept at it. And he began to wonder why he was not having much trouble with the people who used the line.

He could have thanked me for that. Everything I did for those guys was under the table, as they say. I kept a record of things, but that was in my head. Strange now to think about it, but no one ever challenged me to produce a book or an invoice with figures printed out. Well, maybe not too strange. They just figured let the kid handle what he could and they would not have to deal with Mr. Sheep Shit. I was also receiving papers on how many goods or products were on different lines, and the schedule was the easiest thing in the world to remember. I even knew the names of the conductors, something Mr. Prescott did not bother with or think of as being at all important. Sad, really. He could have saved himself a lot of heartache.

You know that saying they have? “You can be too good at your job.” I think that’s how it goes. I was helping these guys make a lot of shipments without hassle, and they were very appreciative for the work, especially since I had nothing on paper and threw out or burned everything I could in my room (moved into a larger space there soon). My account at the bank got some notice – same as the family’s – but no one got too nosy about where the money was coming from. No one said a thing…except Prescott.

“I think we should talk, son.”

It was the end of the day when he showed up at my table at the Robinson’s restaurant. He was all sweaty and shaking, like he had just run a marathon (red and blue were competing for space on his face). I was just waiting for my dinner that day (not a standard habit with me; lots of sandwiches stood between me and my future fame and wealth). He just appeared at my sleeve when people were about to enjoy their meals.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, yourself. Who are you, really, kid?” He sat down without an invite, the sweat not being in the least tempted by his handkerchief. “Where’d you come from?”

I knew that I had to pretend that I knew nothing about what this guy was on about, so I said nothing until he could not take it.

He slammed his flat palm right on the place mat, scaring the life out of two ladies and their Pomeranian (it barked and growled at the pair of us).

“Sir, I think you should leave now.”

“I think you should play your little game somewhere else. People know me and trust me. I’ve been here most of my life and know the rails better than anyone. They. Know. Me.”

He stared almost past me as he finished those words. And I am not sure why I said it, but it probably changed everything for me.

“Not everyone trusts you. That. Is. Clear.”

I did not even try to avoid the slap. All I really remember is being on the ground with a pain on the left side of my face that made me think of my father’s rituals disciplining. The owner and a few others grabbed the man while that Pomeranian now barked without pause.

“I’ll find you out. I’ll find…”

And then he was out the door, forced by the crowd to walk home in the twilight...alone.

The thing is, it was a small town. This was not something that would be settled or forgotten in a week. Mr. Prescott heard about it the fastest and so did his buddies. And then so did the railway companies and their investors.

You have probably figured out what happened next.

I was put on the railway line and had complete control over the numbers and shipments.

Again, I have to say it: I was making good money on my own with all the work that I did for those farmers and such. Being stuck with a regular nine-to-five job was not a plan I had in mind. There was too much of my father’s life in such a position.

But like I said, this is just the start of a bigger story. I was on my way and could now see what I could do with my life.

And I guess now you want to know all about that card.

Soon...

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