Free Transcontinental by Brad Cook

outside this morning.”
    “Is that bad?”
    “I suppose if you sun burn easily. Or if you are a vampire. Look at it like this—at least you can not lock yourself in.” Ant gave Leroy a playful shove.
    “Hilarious. The driver said he’d leave the door open. It shut on its own.”
    “One of the first rules of hoboing,” Ant asserted, removing a length of wood from his rucksack, “is always be prepared. Unfortunately, we will not be needing this today.” He slipped it back inside. “But you see the point, no?”
    Leroy nodded and said “No.”
    “Good. You are in the wild now. Anything can happen.”
    ‘Rape van’ was the first thing that came to mind.”But such is the beauty of this lifestyle. Each is his own man, unfettered from society. Yet in this lawlessness we may observe the human condition at its purest. One is free to act as he wishes, guided by only inherent morality. Still, it is out here I feel safest. Once in a while you get a knife pulled on you, but you take the bad with the good,” he laughed. On his raised hand, his pointer finger protruded. “He who lives without peril is never truly secure.”
    They continued along the tracks in silence. That last sentence seemed like a contradiction to Leroy. Admittedly, the rest of what Ant said did sound pretty appealing. Leroy had lost count of the times he wished he could just go hermit. He had it all planned out—a small house with a small garden in the middle of nowhere. Maybe some paper now and then so he could draw and paint, but he could sell extra produce to pay for it. It was a static way of living. Some might call it monotonous, but to him it sounded downright carefree. He longed for that life.
    As they approached the rear of the train, Ant analyzed the last grainer. The thick metal thudded under his palm as he patted it. “This is our ride.”
    Whoa, now. He didn’t like the sound of that. “You ain’t—”
    “Ah, ah, ah,” Ant scolded.
    “You aren’t actually coming, are you?”
    “Naturally, I am.”
    Leroy didn’t know what to say. It was clear that this man was brazen, but to force his way into Leroy’s plans like this was too much. “Look, it’s just… this is kinda personal, my situation, and I think I should take care of it myself, is all.”
    Ant placed a hand on Leroy’s shoulder, nodding his head. “Of course. I understand. But I am still coming.”
    “I mean, it’s nothing against you or anything. It’s me.”
    “No,” Ant rebutted, “it is me. If I let you leave here alone and something happened to you, I could not forgive myself.”
    ”You’d never know.”
    “Word gets around.” They were a yard apart, a red light on the back of the grainer blinking between them. “I am going to speak frankly, Leroy. I assume you have run away from home.”
    Leroy crossed his arms.
    “I am experienced. I know how to stay safe in the wild.”
    “You said anything can happen. You coming won’t change that.”
    Ant grinned. “Sharp mind. But one can be prepared. And I am. Further, there is power in numbers. This is no longer the golden age of tramping. Hobos nowadays are often ex-cons, violent people.”
    “I can take care of myself.” He said this despite the chord of fear what Ant said had struck in him. He was going to need a bigger knife.
    “I bet you can.”
    He couldn’t tell if Ant was being sarcastic or not. “I made it this far, didn’t I?” He said it as much to convince himself as Ant.
    “Yes, with my help.”
    “Didn’t even need it. The bull didn’t follow.”
    “You would be in that boxcar still were it not for me.”
    “Someone else would’ve helped me out.”
    “And right into a jail cell. Listen, I am not claiming you need me. You are a capable young man. I respect that. I am saying I will regret it if I do not see you to your destination. Besides, I could use a good adventure.”
    A shiftless apathy overtook Leroy. He didn’t feel like moving, let alone continuing a journey of