OCR Text |
Show RIVER grinned and pointed to a train on a siding and Rosie and I loaded up our ten speeds and climbed aboard. We waited for half an hour inside the boxcar, roasting like turkeys, when at last the train lurched forward and the air began to stir. We were delirious with joy. The train rolled through Pasco and across the bridge over the Columbia, but instead of picking up speed, the freight pulled onto a siding and stopped. I leaned out of the boxcar door and could see the engine being disconnected. As it backed up past us I waved at the engineer and yelled, "When will this train get out of here?" "Two, three days," he called back. We dragged our bicycles out of the boxcar and across a field to a road. We drove into a town on the Oregon side of the river and bought two steaks and some beer. We rode down to a swimming lagoon next to the Columbia and immediately dove in. It was sweet relief. But not for long. We'd been very paranoid about holding on to what little cash we had left, so we kept it tied up in a scarf that Rosie wore tied around her neck. When she dove into the lagoon, she was wearing the scarf, but when she came out again, it was gone. Broke again. We exchanged no harsh words, though we were both very discouraged. We spent the next day diving and dredging the lagoon. We even found a guy with scuba gear who searched the murky bottom. Toward evening, with almost all our hopes drowned, fate smiled upon us and a little girl found the scarf washed up against a diving raft, complete with its soggy treasure. A true miracle, but the experience left us drained. The next day we tried and failed to get a towboat ride -118- |