A Twist of Fate
Part Two (B)
News of the race had spread like wild fire and all of the passengers were buzzing with excitement: except for one.
Dean Winchester listened to the air horn start the race with a dry mouth and a roiling gut. When the steamboats took off, blowing their steam whistles, amid excited cheering and tossed hats, Dean dragged Sammy to the stern of the boat, as far away as possible from the boiler room. Sammy swung off the rails and waved at passengers on the other boat and Dean tried to make sure that he had a hand on his brother at all times. He wanted to be able to grab hold of him fast if the boat suddenly blew sky high.
Thick ribbons of smoke trailed out behind the two racing steamboats and bright orange sparks danced from the tall chimneys. The big sidewheels thrashed through the water, creating huge, churning, white wakes and water sprayed up over the bows of the boats, drenching all the rail side passengers. Sammy whooped with delight and Dean was equal parts exhilarated and terrified.
The crew were all running around like termites whose nest had been kicked over and Dean had never seen so many people going down to the boiler room to help the firemen. Even some of the passengers were helping to carry extra wood down, much of it dripping with sap. Dean hadn’t seen the firemen use cords of sap-heavy pine wood before and he figured they’d been saving it for a race because the sap would burn that much hotter.
As the day progressed, the sick feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach lessened. He was still nervous, but so far the boilers were holding together and there was no hint that anything was about to go wrong. Besides, the party atmosphere on board the Amanda was contagious and it was hard not to get swept up in it.
The ports between New Haven and St Louis were mostly little ones and although they weren’t scheduled to pick up any more cargo, or to deliver any, they did have mail to deliver in St Charles. But the captain had decreed that they weren’t stopping anywhere they didn’t have to, so the steamboat merely blew its steam whistle, slowed down, and a crew member threw the mail sack at the wharf, where it was caught (barely) by a wharf worker. Right on the very edge of the dock stood another worker, with an outgoing sack of mail which he heaved onto the deck of the Amanda as she glided past. The Amanda blew her whistle again and then it was full steam ahead once more.
Now it wasn’t just cords of wood being taken down to the boiler room, sides of bacon, kegs of lard and tar barrels were being shuttled down too. Dean could tell the very minute the highly combustible fuel hit the furnaces; the boat surged ahead and the chimneys began to billow jets of thick, black smoke.
Twenty miles out from St Louis, the Amanda and the Magellan were neck and neck. The wooden railings creaked and groaned together and Dean realized that he could easily have climbed from one boat to the other. Suddenly, the Amanda lurched forwards, shaking violently and all of the passengers at the bow end of the ship cried out and rushed to the stern as intolerably hot air began to blast continuously out from the boiler room. Sam and Dean both clutched their ears as a loud shrieking, humming noise began to sound from the blowers and hot soot began to drift down onto the decks.
‘Lord have mercy on our souls!’ Dean heard a woman cry, ‘If there is a single gentleman aboard, he will go and compel the captain to stop racing!’
Dean snorted. Yeah, good luck with that lady, he thought.
The Amanda strained and groaned and pushed past the Magellan, causing the other boat’s sidewheel to splinter as the Amanda cut across her competitor’s bow.
There was another eruption of thick, black smoke and the Amanda lurched forwards yet again, rapidly gaining a one, then two-length lead over the Magellan. Dean could hear faint yelling coming from the boiler room and his fear ratcheted up a notch. He took a firm hold of Sammy’s upper arm and kept his keen eyes fixed on the hatch which led down to the engines. A moment later he noticed wisps of smoke coming from the trapdoor, and then it was abruptly thrown open and smoke and soot began to pour from it. Dimly, Dean could see figures staggering up from below deck and then the entire boat shook like an earthquake and flames began to erupt everywhere. Dean and Sammy were hurled violently across the deck, but Dean didn’t let go of his brother, not even once. As soon as he was able he scrambled to his feet and, dragging his brother with him, he ran for the ship’s rail.
‘Climb up,’ he urged Sammy, pushing the eight year old ahead of him.
Dean followed a heartbeat behind and as soon as the brothers were both standing atop the railing, Dean gripped his brother’s hand and leapt into the river.
The river ran fast and the brothers were soon swept viciously downstream by the current. Behind them the paddle steamer was rocked by a series of deafening explosions and charred debris rained down on them. The boys went under water several times but Dean clung to Sammy tenaciously, determined not to let him go. Eventually they snagged on a partially submerged tree and clung to it desperately, holding on tightly until some folk on the river bank who’d come down to watch the race managed to get a length of rope out to them. Dean wrapped the rope around his waist, and then gripped Sammy firmly, wrapping his arms securely around his little brother and not even letting go when they were safely on shore. The brothers sat shivering on the banks of the Missouri and watched blankly as face down bodies and burnt and broken corpses floated past them. When Dean spotted the mangled body of the crew member who’d been demanding ‘payment’ for their passage floating sightlessly past, he felt such a grim, visceral satisfaction that he nearly threw up. He gave a whole body shudder and pulled Sammy closer, burying his nose in the kid’s wet hair and breathing in the scent of his innocence, trying to regain his own by osmosis. A hand to his shoulder made him flinch badly and a kind-faced woman knelt by his side and spoke to him as if he were a skittish colt, encouraging him to bring his little brother and stand by the fire they’d built, to dry off, so they wouldn’t catch a chill. Dean allowed them to be propelled across to the fire. The woman handed them a mug of tea each and they stood side by side, shivering and sipping their tea while their wet clothes slowly dried.
‘All those people,’ Sam whispered. ‘They were having so much fun. And now…’ he met Dean’s eyes, ‘Do you think…Rufus and Solomon and all them…do you think…’
Dean sucked in air. ‘I think some of ‘em made it out the boiler room. After that…’ he shrugged. He turned to the woman who’d been fussing over them.
‘Ma’am, thanks for the tea and the fire. We’re gonna go now and see if we can find our family.’
The woman’s eyes darted to Sam and Dean could see that she wasn’t too keen on the idea of letting a little kid wander around the scene of a tragedy. He drew himself up and met her eyes. ‘It’s my job to mind my little brother. And we’ve gotta find our family. We’ll come back here if we can’t, promise.’
She nodded reluctantly and Dean tugged on Sam’s hand and pulled him down along the river bank.
The river and its banks were a mess of scorched wood, battered luggage, dead, dying and injured animals, dead, dying and injured people, and bystanders trying frantically to help. Sam kept his eyes firmly on his feet and Dean’s skittered over the unpleasant sights, as he searched desperately for some sign of Rufus. He almost missed him at first, draped over a partially submerged tree branch, maybe thirty feet from the river bank, with only his upper body visible. Dean ran to the very edge of the water, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled:
‘Rufus!’
The fireman lifted his head and managed a tired smile.
‘I’m gonna come and get you, okay?’ Dean shouted.
Rufus shook his head and scowled and, okay, Dean absolutely wasn’t going to discount the threat Rufus had made yesterday, wasn’t about to do anything that might cause Rufus to wallop him, but he wasn’t going to let the man drown either. He looked around and saw passengers and bystanders valiantly rescuing luggage while assiduously ignoring the Negro in the water. Dean’s expression hardened.
‘Hey!’ he yelled, ‘I need some help here. That’s Rufus…he works for my Dad. We need to get him outta the water…’
Just that vague hint that Rufus may possibly be considered the property of a white man and all of a sudden his status was elevated to that of the luggage and the passengers and bystanders turned their attention to pulling him out of the water. The realization hit Dean like a sledgehammer and he was disgusted. He felt a sudden sense of kinship with Rufus because he too knew what it felt like to be treated as something less than human; that’s exactly how they were treated in the poorhouse, as if their suffering were somehow less than the suffering of others because they were somehow less than others. It was truly sickening the way some people thought and it filled Dean with helpless rage as he watched Rufus slowly dragged ashore.
‘Where’s your Pa, son?’ one of the men asked Dean.
‘New York. Rufus is taking us to him.’
‘And your Ma?’
‘She died when Sammy was a baby.’
The man nodded and turned his attention to Rufus.
‘How badly are you injured? Are you fit enough to take care of your charges? ‘
‘Yessir,’ Rufus nodded. ‘I copped a blast of steam across my back and a mild concussion from the explosion, but I’m alright.’
‘Are you really okay?’ Dean asked as soon as the bystanders had gone.
Rufus nodded.
‘Back’s none too comfortable, but ain’t nothing seriously wrong with me.’
He eyed Dean speculatively for a moment. ‘Nice work, by the way. You’re good at thinkin’ on your feet.’
Dean grinned.
They went back to the fire, got Rufus dried and expanded on their cover story with the kindly woman, explaining that Rufus worked for their Dad on their farm in Minnesota, but that times had been tough, what with the war and all the Indian trouble. Their Dad had gone ahead to New York to buy a dairy farm and make a new life for them. He’d then sold the farm back in Minnesota and sent a message to Rufus to bring the boys to him.
Rufus, it seemed, had just as much of a gift for storytelling and embellishment as Dean did and Sam wished that he felt as comfortable with lying as they seemed to.
‘So what are your plans?’ Rufus asked quietly when he and the boys were alone by the fire.
‘We really are goin’ to New York.’
‘How you gettin’ there from here?’
Dean shrugged.
‘Got a whole bunch of people here needin’ to get to St Louis. I figure some way or another we’ll find a way there. Then we hop on another steamboat and stowaway ‘til New York.’
Rufus stroked his chin and regarded Dean thoughtfully.
‘Uh huh. You realize how much farther it is from St Louis to New York than from Kansas City to St Louis? You were on the Amanda for-what-four, five, days before you got caught out-’
‘What?’ Sam interrupted, ‘You got caught? Dean?’
Rufus continued as though the interruption hadn’t occurred. ‘You really think you can last twenty days on a new steamship, dodging the crew, stealing food, without being found out?’
Dean raised his chin, his eyes scared but defiant. ‘I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens, I’ll take care of it.’
‘Oh kid,’ Rufus’s tone was so very sad, ‘you really think that what happened on the Amanda is the worst that can happen?’
‘What happened on the Amanda?’ Sam demanded.
‘What if it was Sammy who got cornered?’
Dean’s whole body tightened visibly. ‘I would rip their goddamn lungs out!’
‘What the hell is goin’ on?’ Sam yelled.
‘Nothin’,’ Dean said curtly.
Sam punched his arm.
‘Bull. Shit. Who found us out? What did they do to you?’
Dean’s face closed up completely.
‘Leave it, Sammy. We’re not talkin’ about this.’
Sam’s face was furious.
‘You’re my brother too, you know,’ he spat. ‘It’s not all about you lookin’ after me! You gotta let me watch your back sometimes too ya know!’
Rufus spoke up before Dean could respond.
‘I got an alternative,’ he said. ‘I got me a job on the Mary Morgan, headin’ up to Pittsburgh outta St Louis. I know the chief engineer, he’s an okay guy. Owes me one; though whether he’ll still see it that way is anyone’s guess. But if he does…I could maybe talk him into getting you work aboard the ship in exchange for free passage for you and Sammy.’
Dean’s eyes narrowed.
‘Why would you do that for us?’
Rufus looked sad again.
‘Same reason you helped me out back there. Cuz it’s the right thing to do.’
‘Dean?’ Sam said into the silence.
His big brother met his eyes.
‘Are you okay?’ It wasn’t the question he really wanted to ask, but it was the one he thought he had a chance of getting answered.
Dean nodded briefly and then turned back to Rufus.
‘How far is it from Pittsburgh to New York?’
Rufus shrugged. ‘Four, five hundred miles. Take you maybe five or six days on horseback. Longer if you was walkin. I’m headin’ out to Stringtown-got a friend out there workin’ in the mines who I’m lookin’ to hook up with-so I can’t help you further than Pittsburgh, but there’s gotta be plenty merchants headin’ out to New York from Pittsburgh wouldn’t mind givin’ you a lift,’ he saw the cynical grimace touch Dean’s lips and sighed. ‘Some folks is just good hearted ya know.’
He decided to ignore Dean’s disbelieving snort.
‘So whatdya say? You boys wanna stick with me as far as Pittsburgh?’
Dean looked away, eyes gazing out over the Missouri River, taking in all the debris and wreckage and beyond that, the wilderness. He’d brought his brother a long way and he’d kept him safe, but they still had so much further to go. Maybe sticking with Rufus for a while wouldn’t be such a bad thing, maybe it would be better for Sammy if they had a grown up with them for a spell. Dean glanced at his brother and saw the hurt in the younger boy’s eyes. He’d caused that hurt and he knew it, but there was no way in Hell he was going to tell Sammy what had happened. He was determined that at least one of them was going to have some semblance of a childhood and the ship had sailed on it being him a long time ago. If they tried to go it alone and got caught again…if someone tried to make Sammy…Dean suppressed a shudder. His mind shied away from imagining what could be worse than what he’d been forced to do, but he didn’t doubt that Rufus knew what he was talking about. And the thought that someone might want something like that from Sammy! Dean returned his attention to Rufus.
‘Okay,’ he said, ‘we’ll stick with you.’
Rufus snorted softly.
‘You’re welcome, kid,’ he said.
-X-
The owners of the Amanda organized a couple of stage coaches to take stranded passengers down to St Louis, starting with the most seriously injured and working their way down through degrees of injury, then degrees of wealth. Dean, Sam and Rufus were in the very last stage coach, which, Dean figured, was fair enough given that technically he and Sam were stowaways, not passengers. But given that all of the ship’s paperwork had gone down with the ship and the number of dead hadn’t quite been sorted out yet, no-one was asking any questions.
Before boarding the coach, Rufus and the boys had spent some time collecting bits of ‘their’ luggage from among the debris and had managed to gather together a couple of bags full of useful bits and pieces, although the fireman was still mourning the loss of his moonshine. Fortunately, Rufus had a miser purse which he wore over his belt and never took off, so upon their arrival in St Louis he had sufficient coin to get them a small room at a cheap boarding house. They had to give their-now well-practiced-cover story to the house Mistress, because she was curious as to why a black man was traveling with two white boys. The sinking of the Amanda explained nicely why they had so little luggage, though, and the boarding house mistress was sufficiently moved by their tale of woe that she put together a quick meal for them, even though it was long past supper time. It was the best thing Dean and Sam had eaten in a long time, and the cozy kitchen reminded Dean of home and before so strongly that it was all he could do not to get tears in his eyes.
Their stomachs full, Rufus sent the boys up to their room and told them to stay put while he went out to see if he could find his friend. He wanted to talk to him as soon as possible about getting Dean work on the Mary Morgan.
There were only two beds in the room, a single bed and a small cot, and Rufus had told them, in his no nonsense tone, that they would take the beds and he would sleep on the floor. Dean had tried to argue, but that had just got him threatened with a tanned hide again, and besides, after a day like today, there was no way Sammy would end up sleeping in his own bed, so Dean shrugged it off. When Rufus returned later that night his young charges were fast asleep in the single bed, nestled together like spoons. Big spoon Dean had his arms tightly wrapped around his younger brother and in the flickering candlelight of the room their faces looked angelically serene. Rufus sat down on the cot and stared at the boys, marveling how much younger Dean looked when you couldn’t see his stony, cynical eyes. Rufus was a hard man with a hard heart; he’d had to be to survive; but looking at the sleeping boys opened cracks in an armor that he’d thought would never be breached, and he grieved for the life these children deserved but would never have. Like him, they had been born into circumstances which meant their lives would never be easy. No sirree, Rufus sighed and stretched himself out on the cot, careful of his scalded back, for the Winchester brothers, life would be nothing but one long battle after another.
-X-
Rufus’s friend Daniel Elkins was another rough and ready tough man and in many ways he reminded Dean of his father. The 4th Infantry Regiment of the United States Colored Troops had fought alongside Daniel Elkin’s regiment in Virginia, and Rufus had saved Elkins’s life. When not at war, Elkins was a steamboat engineer and he’d told Rufus that if he was ever in need of a job, he should look him up. Elkins was now chief engineer on the Mary Morgan and Rufus had telegrammed him some while back to let him know that he’d be taking him up on that job offer. After some back and forth communication it had been arranged and Rufus had been told when he needed to be in St Louis. They’d caught up for a drink while the boys were asleep in the boarding house and Rufus had filled him in on their situation. Now they were meeting with him down at the docks because Elkins wanted to get a good look at Dean before he promised him a job. So far, Elkins was impressed; the boy had met his cold, unwavering gaze unflinchingly and he’d answered all of Elkins’ questions intelligently and politely.
‘Okay,’ Elkins said finally, ‘you’ve got a job. Your payment’ll be free passage for you and your little brother, including meals. I expect you to work hard. If you don’t I’ll throw your ass off the ship, next port we stop at. You clear?’
‘Yessir.’
Elkins nodded and then spoke to Rufus.
‘We leave at dawn tomorrow so I want all my men on board tonight. I’ll expect you here around eight, okay?’
‘Yessir.’
Elkins grinned and stuck his hand out to Rufus.
‘It’ll be good to work with you again, buddy. And you,’ he offered his hand to Dean, ‘Welcome aboard.’
He noticed Sam’s pout and shook the little boy’s hand too, hoping that the kid could keep himself entertained and stay out of trouble.
-X-
For Sam, the weeks aboard the Mary Morgan were like the best holiday he’d ever had. He wasn’t a stowaway so he didn’t have to be careful about talking to people, nor did he have to worry about stealing food, and he didn’t have time to be bored. Sometimes he watched Dean, Rufus and the other firemen working down in the engine room, sometimes he helped to look after the livestock, sometimes he played with the other children and, being Sam, he made friends with just about everyone.
On the fourth day of the trip Sam was curled up in a nice sunny spot on deck, reading the bible he’d been given, when a man sat down next to him and introduced himself as Pastor Jim.
‘I see you’re reading the Good Book,’ he added.
Sam shrugged.
‘To be honest,’ he said conspiratorially, ‘It’s not actually all that good.’
Pastor Jim laughed.
‘Really? And why is that, son?’
Sam frowned.
‘Well, for starters, it’s got all this stuff about people ‘begating’ other people and I have no clue what that means. And there was this part where some angels let a man give his daughters to an angry mob to save themselves, and, well, I didn’t expect angels to be dicks. And it doesn’t make sense. How on Earth can we all come from Adam and Eve? They had two sons, but…there were no girls for them to marry! It doesn’t make one whit of sense.’
Pastor Jim laughed and ruffled Sam’s hair.
‘You’re clearly a thinking man. What’s your name, son?’
‘Sam.’
‘Well, Sam, have you considered the possibility that some of the stories in the Bible are simply that? Simple ways of explaining simple truths to people?’
Sam tilted his head.
‘Like what?’
‘Like, all of us, all people, are one people. And we should love one another as we would love our own brothers and sisters.’
‘Oh. I guess that makes more sense.’
‘Don’t get me wrong; some parts of the Bible tell us the word of God and others tell us of Jesus’s words-but some parts are just stories-parables.’
After that Sam and Pastor Jim spent some time every day talking about religion-and life in general. Sam came to like and trust the man very quickly and he soon found himself telling him all about his thirst for knowledge and his dreams of going to school. A few days after that conversation, Pastor Jim introduced Sam to Miss Kathleen. Miss Kathleen was travelling to Pittsburgh to take on a position as Governess to a wealthy family. It was to be her first position and she asked Sam, very gravely, if he would mind if she practiced her lessons on him. Sam was delighted to agree and spent the rest of the trip having daily school lessons. Miss Kathleen found him to be a very apt pupil and an absolute joy to teach. When she discovered that his older brother was working as a fireman on the boat, she offered after-work lessons to Dean as well, but Dean wasn’t interested; not in the lessons anyway. He did practice his flirting with Miss Kathleen though, which made her blush furiously. The hard physical work that Dean was doing and the regular meals he was getting, meant that he was bulking up substantially, and even though he was only twelve, he had a cockiness about him that made him seem much older. He was pleased, though, that Sammy was getting lessons and very proud when Miss Kathleen told him how smart his little brother was.
After twenty days on the river, the Mary Morgan arrived in Pittsburgh having enjoyed a routine, incident-free voyage. As the passengers disembarked, Sammy said a tearful farewell to Miss Kathleen and Pastor Jim and then waited while Rufus and Dean finished up their duties before they too said good bye to the boat which had been their home for nearly a month. The boys spent a night in a Pittsburgh boarding house with Rufus, before Rufus said his own gruff, but heartfelt farewells and left to head out to Stringtown.
And once again the boys were on their own.
Part Two (C)