Phil came back to the table with a full glass in each hand. “You are officially Coke’d.”
“Thanks. That was quite a scare for a second there. For a moment I thought you’d turned your phone back on.”
“Oh, well…yeah. I mean, I had it on before, but now would be a bad time.”
Bob took a bite of his sandwich and chewed very slowly. Phil ravenously devoured the rest of his sandwich. Bob sipped a bit of his drink. “So, you’ve had it on since we got to Aberdeen?”
“Er, no. That’s crazy. If it’s on they could…probably…track us or something.”
Liar. I saw you turn it off Bob thought to himself. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that. Any ideas on where to go next?”
“Well, I thought we could walk down to the Super 8. That’s where the team used to stay when we had tournaments up here. It’s pretty nice and I’m sure we have the cash for a night.”
“Do we want to use our limited finances here on a motel? Are we going to stay in this town or move on? Have we even decided yet?”
“We can always get more money.”
Bob leaned back in his booth. “Oh, this should be good.”
“All we need to do his hit up an A.T.M.”
Bob shook his head. “Sure, they won’t track that or anything.” He took another bite of his sandwich.
“No silly, we make a withdrawal before we leave town, then while they look around town for us, we head out to the next town.”
Bob put his sandwich down. “You want us to keep running?”
“I…I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just worried we’ll end up like that po-”
Bob put his finger to his lips quickly and interrupted. “Like that poor guy who quit eating these healthy sandwiches. Heart attack. What a shame. What. A. Shame.” Bob darted his eyes to various people who had started glancing their way. Phil’s face had the look of someone who knew he was saying something stupid at the wrong place and time. Bob’s face didn’t change once.
“You have got to teach me your poker face.”
“Maybe later.” Bob finished his sandwich. “Hurry up. I want to get to this Super 8. I need a shower.”
***
“This better be good.” Steve Simon said as he waddled out of his truck. He was a large man, and he didn’t seem to care who knew. His shirt was about a half size too small, and his suspenders clashed with both his shirt and his pants. He took another bite from the bear claw he was working on. “I don’t like coming out on a Saturday.”
“I thought you’d want to see this.”
Steve looked at the stopped train. “Yeah, it’s a boxcar Clint. So what? Why’d you open the door?”
“The door was open. And before you ask, I didn’t move the cargo.”
Steve slowly walked up to the boxcar. He shoved the rest of the pastry in his mouth. He put his hands on the floor of the car and looked around. “Hoppers. Dammit. I didn’t think anybody did that anymore. Did anybody here at the elevator see anyone leave the train.”
“No sir. I did get a call from my neighbor Rick. He lives out of town, and he was driving to Milbank and he saw the door was open. I radioed the train, and it stopped here. There wasn’t a stop scheduled in Ortonville today.”
“Why did it stop?”
“The head engineer told me he’d tell me, but he had to call Sioux Falls first.”
