Sunday, September 10, 2017

TRAIN TRACKS & BLACK FACES. Pt. 2


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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