Them Southern tramps goes ‘bout trampin’ all together diff’rent. Mos’ them guys, when they gets on a train, they got nothin’ but the clothes on their backs. No gear, no water, bedroll, nothin’. I’ll always get a hold of a sleepin’ bag ‘n water jug, ‘n mebbe some ‘um ta eat. Ya won’t catch me getting’ on a train ‘less I got me some gear. Them guys that stay in the South is use’ ta them short runs. It’s a damn sight diff’rent out West. Can’t go ridin’ through Nevada ‘thout water. Ya’d be spittin’ cotton all the way.
The South’s got some good jungles, but they’s mostly off railroad prope’ty. Them bulls is all the time chasin’ tramps out. Ya go down there ‘n ya spend the better part a yer time runnin’ from them bastards. Ya can’t be seen in the yards. Gotta build yer fire off railroad prope’ty er ye’ll lan’ yer ass in jail. It’s an automatic night if yer caught in Georgia. I been pulled off trains in the South and the East ‘cause some son of a bitch called in, sayin’ they seen a tramp on a train. Gotta stay outta sight when yer ridin’ East a the Mississippi. Can’t sit in the door ‘n look out at the sights like ya can out West. Gotta keep hid, tuck yerself way upfront inside them cars.
One time in Florida, me ‘n a guy they call Preach was ridin’ in a gondola, ‘n an Amtrack train, a passenger train, passed us on the next track. One a the Amtrak conductors seen us in the gondola, ‘n radioed the bulls. When our train pulled inta the yards, they was waitin’ for us. We could see ‘em shakin’ it down up ahead. We jumped up b’fore they got us ‘n made a run for the brush. The yard lights were on, but it was dark enough that they didn’t see us. We’s squatted in these briars, watchin’ ‘em shake down the train, ‘n Preach sez he left his bibles in the gondola. He carries a pack with a bible ‘n a bunch a religious books in it. Don’t hardly carry nothin’ else, jus’ them books. He’s OK ‘less he’s drinkin’. Ya catch him drunk, ‘n he’ll rant enough ta fill ten bibles. He’s only a tramp part time. Got hisself a fam’ly in Georgia ‘n spends half the year with ‘em. I think he works as a carpenter when he’s home. So I sez, “Preach, leave them books be. Ya prob’ly got the motherfuckers memorized anyway.” But he had ta have ‘em. The son of a bitch bolted outta the briars ‘n climbed inta the gondola.
He got the books ‘n was climbin’ back out, ‘n they got him. There was two of ‘em, young fellas, ‘n they was scared a Preach. Made him put his hands on the back of his head. Both of ‘em had their guns drawn, ‘n the one had his gun right up ta Preach’s nose. Thought the kid was goin’ ta kill him. He was shakin’ so bad he had ta put both hands on the gun ta try ‘n keep it steady. I could hear Preach talkin’. He’s tryin’ ta calm the kid down. He’s sayin, “Relax son, take it easy. I ain’t armed; no one’s gonna hurt ya.” They marched him outta the yards at gunpoint, ‘n all the while I was crouched in the briars waitin’ ta hear a gun go off.
Preach ‘n I ran inta each other a couple months later in Georgia, ‘n he was still carryin’ them goddamn books. He said he got ten days for that time in the gondola. I sez, “The way that kid was shakin’, ya oughta be glad yer alive. Ya come close to meetin’ the man inspired those books yer carryin’.”
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