The Moffat Museum (15 page)

"Well," said Jane, "everything will be all right. If you're identical twins, even Walton mighta got mixed up!"

The lady chewed thoughtfully but said nothing.

"Don't worry," said Jane. "Your cousin Agnes probably loves both of you identically the same."

Now people were going to the doors with their packages and satchels ready to get off, but not Jane, not the lady. Jane was excited.
What a train ride!
she thought. Everything was going as rehearsed in her conversation with Mrs. Price.
But same as in a play,
she reminded herself,
something unexpected might happen, like the lady from Montowese and her green worm. If another unexpected thing happens, maybe more exciting, use your wits. Don't panic. Act as though that was the way things were meant to be.

Suddenly something did happen. The train came to a stop in the Milford station. Then there was excitement!

About fifty little boys and girls crowded onto the train, screaming, yelling, shouting, laughing. "I wanna seat by the window." It sounded like recess time at Wood Street School. They rushed to this side and that. They pushed one another out of a good spot and got into it themselves. Sometimes three sat one on top of another in a heap.

A minister ... he must be a minister because he was dressed in a black suit and wore a stiff white collar backward around his neck like Ray Abbot ... clapped his hands. "Children, children, behave. Be quiet!" He even blew a little whistle hoping to bring order.

"What's this?" Jane asked a little boy who slid into the seat beside her.

"Sunday School picnic," he said glumly, having been pushed out of a good seat by a window and having to sit beside Jane instead. Jane put her coat and hat in her lap not to lose them in the confusion.

The minister was straddling the linkage between this coach and the one in front where some mothers and fathers had sat down and were hoping to take it easy.

All the children had brown paper bags with their lunches in them and bathing suits wrapped in towels. "What beach are you going to?" asked Jane.

"I forgotten," said the little boy forlornly.

Jane was sorry for him. He wanted to be in a heap along with a pile of children. He didn't want to sit by her. Jane looked across the aisle to see how the lady from Montowese was enjoying this picnic, but she couldn't see her. Three rather plump little girls were stacked up in the seat beside her, and they, with all their trappings, obscured Ada Brooks. But, ah, she must be there, for Jane did see the box of raspberries, which evidently she was holding high above on her black straw hat. It was lucky it was a flat hat. But Jane could not see the hat, so it looked as though the box of berries was afloat in the air.

Poor lady!
thought Jane.
Too bad she didn't get this little thin boy instead of those three big girls piled in a heap beside her. How tired her arms must be holding her berries up high!

Suddenly the conductor, whose wonderful little pop-up plush chair was now occupied by two little boys, appeared from in back. He said, "Nes' station, Devon! Devon, nes' station!"

The minister counted heads as best he could. He said, "Devon! That is where we get off. Gather your belongings together!"

The minister's announcement created a renewed frenzy of activity. Many dashed to the water fountain for one last drink and to get another paper cup, cone-shaped, to hold on their heads and say, "Clown! Clown! See, I'm a clown!" and pulled their mouths wide apart to make the grin of a sad clown. A few big girls had lipsticks and painted bright red circles on their cheeks. Some put their cups on their noses for a Pinocchio look.

It's tunny and pretty like a circus,
Jane thought as the children pushed themselves out onto the platform, and they were gone.

The train did not start up right away. The children had to be counted again. There the minister was, looking haggard. But now he had some mothers and even fathers and older children to help him as he went down the list.

Jane looked across the aisle to see how the lady from Montowese had come through that onslaught.

She wasn't there! She and her raspberries were not there! Her ticket was stuck where it was supposed to be, her satchel was beneath her seat, but no lady from Montowese!

Jane looked out the window, which was open as it had been all along. She spotted the lady, Ada Brooks, standing on the platform in the middle of the Sunday School picnic!

Jane shouted, "Hey, lady! Lady from Montowese! This is not your station! Get on! Get back on! Quick!"

The lady didn't hear her. She stood in the midst of the children, looking confused but clutching her raspberries as though they were a link between her and real life. The minister and the conductors were so busy counting children that no one heard Jane. They probably, if they did notice the lady from Montowese, thought she was somebody's grandmother ... part of the picnic.

Only one thing for Jane to do! Get off this train, grab the lady by the arm, pull her to the steps of the train, and push her back on. So Jane got off.

"Ada! Ada Brooks!" Jane shouted.

Then the lady heard her name and pushed her way toward Jane. There was not such a huge throng left now, for special open trolley cars had been lined up to take the picnickers to where they were going.

The conductors, happy that those in charge of the picnic had accounted for all of the children, hopped back on the train, pulled the cord,
ding-ding, toot-toot
... and the train started up slowly.
Chug ... chug ... puff...
slow, fast, faster ... and Jane and the lady from Montowese were left standing forlornly on the Devon railroad station, where neither one of them was supposed to be. Satchels, tickets, coats, the lady's little towel she rested her head against ... all were on the going-away train!

"I told you it was the wrong train," said the lady.

Jane paid no attention. She looked around. "Ah, there!" she cried. "Come on!" she said to the lady. "There's a trainman over there with a little handcar. Wait right here."

"I'm a statue," said the lady.

Jane ran over to the big man dressed in gray-striped overalls. "Man!" she said. "Me and this lady are supposed to be on that train that just left! I'm on my way to New Rochelle. The lady is going to Greens Farms. She got off by mistake with the picnic people, so I got off to get her back on, but too late! There goes our train, the eight-fifteen. Our tickets, our coats, our satchels, her head towel are on that train. What can we do?"

The man took in the situation right away. He lost no time. He got his little handcar from the siding, told Jane to hop on, which she did, then he hoisted the lady up and told her to hang on to her berries.

"I'll catch up with that train," he said, "because the drawbridge across the Housatonic River is up for a stream of boats to go through. So don't worry! Your train will have to wait on this side for the boats. They line 'em up, big and little, and they go through the opening one by one."

"O-o-h!" said Jane in excitement. "We have one of those drawbridges in Cranbury, only it's just for trolleys, not trains..."

"Yeah, I know about that one ... not for trains, though. Anyway," said the handcar man, "the engineer waits for all the boats to pass through. Then the drawbridge comes slowly back down, joins together again, tracks and all, and off the trains will go. Well, I'll go like sixty and catch up with your train ... your eight-fifteen ... and I'll get you back on!"

The man honked a horn, very loud. "Have to begin to get their attention as soon as possible, in case the bridge comes down before I make it." He honked and honked it. He let Jane honk it. It sounded important. And he pumped his nice flat little handcar lickety-split down the local tracks, chasing after the eight-fifteen.

"Wait till I tell Walton!" shouted the lady, who looked happy.

Way, way ahead, they could see the rear end of their train. Sure enough, it was beginning to slow down. "See, the bridge
is
up," observed the man. True! A big wall seemed to be rising up in front of the train. The eight-fifteen would have to stop or bump right smack into it, then fall onto the boats peacefully sailing through the opening toward Long Island Sound or up the beautiful Housatonic.

What a river!
thought Jane. And what a ride she was having! She loved this little handcar. Wouldn't Joey and Rufus love being on this wonderful little handcar! She had been watching how the man made it go, pumping a rod up and down, up and down. It looked easy.

She said, "Mister Engineer, could I make the little car go? Just for a little while before we catch up with the eight-fifteen?"

"Sure, miss. But it's heavier than it looks. You take one end of the rod and I'll take the other, and we'll be a team!"

The engineer put a red bandanna handkerchief on Jane's hand so she wouldn't get a blister, and the two of them pumped the little handcar. It wasn't hard. Jane loved it! She laughed out loud. "Hey, mister, could I try it by myself?"

"Try it, but not for long. We don't want to miss that train!"

Jane stretched her thin arms from one end of the rod to the other, pressed it down, pulled it up, pressed it down, pulled it up. It wasn't easy. But wait till she told Mama and the boys, "I made a handcar go fast, real fast down the tracks to catch up with the eight-fifteen. Feel my muscle!" she'd say.

But she was tired and glad when the trainman took over completely because they would soon catch up with the train. He'd been counting the boats that had gone through, and there couldn't be many more.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Jane," said Jane. "What's yours?"

"George," said the man. "Call me George."

"And call me Ada, not Ida," said the lady from Montowese, who, clutching her berries, was perched precariously at the edge of the handcar. She looked happy. "Wait till I tell Walton!" she said. "And Agnes!"

"We have to hurry now," George said. He pumped harder and harder. Jane honked his horn...
honk, honk...
constantly.

"Wait for Ada!" screamed the lady from Montowese.

They could see the drawbridge. It was beginning to come down. Would they make it? Fortunately, two conductors smoking their pipes on the rear platform spotted the oncoming handcar with people aboard. One ran into the back car and pulled the emergency cord. This made a screaming whistle that meant, "Motorman, stop! Put on the brakes!" Jane put her hands over her ears. She bet they could hear that whistle way back in Cranbury, and all the fire engines would come roaring out.

But no, the train, which had started slowly, stopped with a sudden lurch. A conductor with a megaphone such as they have in baseball fields bellowed into it.

"Passengers! Don't worry. This is not a wreck. Missing passengers arriving by handcar. Got lost somehow or other along the line!"

George pumped his handcar as close to the rear of the train as he could, letting Jane have the last swing at it. Then he lifted Jane over the back railing of the train, the conductor grabbed her, and she was on! Then George lifted the frail little lady from Montowese up, and the conductor grabbed her, too.

"Don't lose my berries!" she warned. Miraculously, he didn't.

"George!" Jane called out to her friend, the handcar engineer. "Thank you! Thank you! I'll send you a Christmas card. Where do I send it?"

The train was pulling out now. The conductor had rung the "All clear" signal. But Jane heard George shout, "Just put 'George, the handcar man, New York, New Haven, and Hartford Railroad Company,' I'll get it. Everybody knows George!"

"O-o-oh," screamed Jane. "I have your bandanna!"

"Keep it!" said George. "Souvenir!"

"Thank you! Thank you," she shouted. "I'll put it in the museum ... The Moffat Museum!"

"Good ... good..." he said.

Now Jane could barely hear him. He had swung his rod over. The handcar could go backward or forward with a switch of the rod. He turned. He waved. He honked his horn and started pumping his way back to the Devon station. Jane waved his bandanna as long as she could see him. Then the conductor hustled Jane back into her same seat and the lady from Montowese into hers.

No one had taken anything. Jane's coat, her hat with the cherries, and her satchel were exactly where she had left them. Her ticket stamped New Rochelle was still in its little slot.

Across the aisle, the lady from Montowese was counting her belongings. She straightened her rumpled little head towel and examined it closely. "For lice," she explained to Jane. She sat down, rested her head against her little towel, fluffed up her berries, and made the box seem full. Then she popped one in her mouth. She even offered one to Jane.

"No, thank you," said Jane, though she was hungry. Where was the worm? she wondered.

Now the time passed quickly. The train went very fast to make up for time lost at the drawbridge over the Housatonic. It seemed to Jane she scarcely had time to put a check on her timetable by the name of one station before they were at the next.

Suddenly the conductor hopped up from his pop-up seat and said, "Greens Farms! Station, Greens Farms!"