Pt. 2
AND SOMEWHERE
ALONG THE LINE THE TRAIN ROLLED TO A STOP AT A TRAIN DEPOT; SOMEWHERE BETWEEN
THE SITE OF THEIR FAILED BEAN PICKING VENTURE, AND THEIR BELOVED HOME TOWN. AND
THEN IT OCCURRED TO THEM. THEY WERE COVERED HEAD TO TOE WITH COAL SOOT!
Henry spoke.
“Earl, I
think we have a slight problem, ole buddy.”
His young
friend nodded his head.
“Yep. I
believe we do, Henry.”
The
conversation continued.
“Earl, let’s
get off the back of this train car, and sneak into the bathroom, and get this
mess off of us.”
AND WITH
THIS, THEY CLIMBED DOWN THE LADDER WHICH RAN DOWN THE SIDE OF THEIR STEEL AND
WOODEN CONVEYENCE, MADE THEIR WAY INTO THE RESTROOM, GRABBED A QUANTITY OF
PAPER TOWELS OFF THE COUNTER, AND PUMPED HANDFULS OF BORAXO POWDER FROM THE
DISPENSER ON THE WALL.
HAVING
SCRUBBED THEIR RESPECTIVE EPIDEMIS’ FOR SEVERAL MINUTES, AND MAKING LITTLE OR
NO HEADWAY, THE BOYS WONDERED OUT LOUD WHAT THEY MIGHT TRY NEXT.
IT WAS THEN
THAT THE BATHROOM DOOR SWUNG OPEN, AND THE STATION MANAGER APPEARED BEFORE
THEM.
His fury was
not long coming.
“Boys, what
are you doing in the ‘whites only’ toilet? You N_ _ _ _ _s aren’t allowed in
here!”
by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 35. Copyright pending
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