Read Online The Train of Small Mercies by David Rowell - Free Book Online Page A

or how to locate the compressors, now do you?”
    â€œNo, sir,” Lionel said.
    â€œYou got me worried already, young buck,” Hayes said. He looked over at the crowd across the way.
    â€œNo, you don’t know this train,” Hayes said. “And this ain’t a day for me to teach you anything about trains, neither. The best thing you can do on this day is to stay out of the way and watch and learn. You Maurice Chase’s son?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œThat’s a long-timer right there,” Hayes said. “Pullman porter. Yes, sir. Men like your father made the brotherhood. Of course, the Pullman brotherhood has pretty well come to an end, and that’s a sad development. But that’s all I’m going to say on that today. Senator Kennedy’s coffin is scheduled to arrive in half an hour, but you don’t have anything to do with that, and that’s for a reason. First day on the job, you need to stay as far away as possible from that coffin. No telling what you’d do, you so green. I’m going to take you to the car you’re going to be serving today and get you situated.” But first Hayes stepped back and held out his hand in the direction of the train, as if it were a prize on some game show. “And welcome to the Pennsylvania Central. You see where it says Penn Central?”
    Lionel studied the glistening coaches and took a step back, not finding anything that helped him.
    â€œThe reason you don’t is because it’s been blacked out by request of the Kennedy family,” Hayes said. “Maybe they wanted the train to resemble a hearse. Makes sense to me, though. We got twenty-one cars, and the last two are where the Kennedy family is going to be, so no one goes in there. Not me, not the conductor, nobody wearing this uniform. Unless they ask for somebody.”
    â€œYes, sir,” Lionel said.
    Buster Hayes took another look at the new employee, crinkling his eyes for effect. “You ready to work, young buck?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAll right, then, let’s get to it.” Buster Hayes led Lionel down the narrow aisles of the train, letting his hands bounce softly over the tops of headrests, whistling a tune he surely whistled all the time. Here and there he slowed to lower his head so that he could survey the crowd out the window. “No, not like any ordinary day, and that’s true for every one of us on this train. This day is some history.”
    â€œFDR had a funeral train,” Lionel said. His father had ranked Roosevelt highest among all other presidents during his lifetime. “And Abraham Lincoln.”
    â€œWhoa, young buck knows something about the history of funeral trains,” Hayes said. “Young buck knows something after all.”
    The train smelled of vinyl and aftershave, and every surface had been scrubbed until the cleaning crew was satisfied that each car looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line. As they headed toward the rear they met a porter whose hair was the color of marshmallows.
    â€œMr. Chalmers,” Hayes said, and they shook hands. “Mr. Chalmers, this here is Lionel Chase. First day on the job.”
    â€œThey put a new man on the job on this train?” Mr. Chalmers said. He hadn’t looked over at Lionel, but he arranged his face in a show of utter dismay. “Lord Almighty.”
    â€œThey must have confidence in him,” Hayes said. “He’s Maurice Chase’s boy. So maybe they know what they’re doing after all.”
    Mr. Chalmers offered his weak hand to Lionel. “How’s he getting along, son?”
    â€œDoing very well,” Lionel said.
    â€œGood, good. That’s a good man, Maurice Chase.”
    â€œI’m taking him to his car,” Hayes said. “Mr. Chalmers can assist you in any number of ways because he knows this train. Young buck tried to tell me he knew this train.”
    At this