Underground Railway story fragment

This is a story I started and never finished. I started writing it about a year ago when Texas passed the first of its torrent of anti-trans legislation. At that time the events I wrote seemed a little fanciful. Now, I'm thinking I'm lucky if it only gets this bad.

If there's interest and/or I can think up what happens next, I might continue it.

The kid was on time, and I was glad to see she could follow instructions. I was standing at the kitchen sink finishing a cup of coffee when I saw her push aside the loose board in the fence and come scuttling along it to the back door. I put my cup down and opened the door before she could knock.

Polly was almost panting with agitation and I could see she'd been crying. I got it. She was about to leave behind everything and everyone she'd ever known. Hell of a thing for a ten-year-old, even if most of what she'd known had been torture. She was wearing boy's hiking boots, boy's jeans, a boy's button-down blue shirt that looked like it was part of a school uniform. Her hair was cut in a flattop buzz. She was about four and half feet tall and slender. The clothing hung on her. The only splash of color was what she was carrying - one of those backpacks in the form of a stuffed animal. This one was a unicorn, white with a rainbow where a saddle would be and a horn of shimmery fabric, sewn around in a spiral. It was full to bursting.

"That's everything...Polly?" I wouldn't deadname her any more.

She nodded jerkily. "When Daddy burned..." she sniffled. "When Daddy burned all my dolls and stuffies, I hid Miss Gallop. Buried her in the garden." That explained the soil still clinging to the horse's fur.

"Ok, let's get moving." I took her arm and led the little girl through the small family room to the door to the attached garage. I opened the back passenger door to the SUV. "This is going to be uncomfortable, but you only have to stay there until we're out of Texas. I touched the hidden button and the floor panel swung up. The floor and back bench seat had been raised enough to make a hidey, one just big enough for a small ten-year-old to curl herself into. I handed Polly a bottle of water. "Don't drink too much, there won't be a bathroom break for awhile." She gulped and nodded, plainly terrified now that her freedom was at hand. I was feeling a little twitchy myself. So much could go wrong in the next few hours. She lay down and I closed the panel.

I hit the garage remote, started the truck, drove out and closed the door behind me. In ten minutes we were on the interstate. Our ultimate destination was California but it was more important to get out of Texas as quickly as possible and the nearest state line was the other direction. It would make our trip at least a day longer and it would mean driving through Oklahoma which was none too friendly either. But worse came to worst, a lot of those small-town cops resented Texas bigfooting them a lot more than they cared about one scared little girl.

Things went smoothly, though. By lunchtime we were in Oklahoma and I was navigating to our first waystation. I pulled into an old barn set back from the highway frontage road. I killed the engine then went around the side and released Polly. She was curled into a fetal position in the small space. Groaning, she unfolded herself and stepped down from the vehicle. I heard a sound behind me and whirled, my hand automatically going for the gun that wasn't there. The barn was supposed to be empty. A stocky woman with curly brown hair stepped out of the shadows, holding a rifle across her body. I blew out a breath. "Shit, Marta, you're not supposed to be here!"

"I know, but I heard about this one. I want to help. Y'all got flip-phones only right?"

I nodded. These days it was way more suspicious to not carry any phone at all, but having one turned on while you travel was just painting a target on your back. "Burners, batteries out until we need them."

Marta's voice had the hard flat twang of her Okie ancestors. She had given up a thriving law practice in SoCal to work with me on the front lines. "I thought maybe we could get your girl out of those ugly fuckin' clothes." She shifted the rifle under her arm and went to put a hand on Polly's shoulder. The little girl shrank back.

"It's ok, Polly, Marta's a friend," I reassured her. To Marta, "Is it safe?"

"Safe as can be. VPN-hopping twice a minute, MAC spoofing, user-agent and all blanked out. C'mon with me, girl," she said, "We're going to get some proper clothes on you." And turning back to me, "You should start checking out your new ride."

The fuck? Our new ride was a goddam RV. It was a small one, a Class B with a cab-over sleeper, but still. Inconspicuous it was not. There was a folder on the driver's seat. I opened it and started to read.

I was mostly done when Marta let Polly back. The girl was smiling for the first time since we had left her home. "Wal-mart 50 miles up the road," Marta said. "The order's waiting for you. Probably best she don't go in, just you. And if you want to spend the night in their lot, pick another one further on down the road."

"Teach your gradmother to suck eggs," I smiled, bringing a guffaw from Marta and a puzzled look from Polly. "Are you sure this will work?" I asked, holding out the folder. The folder contained receipts for campgrounds, fast food, and gas stations starting in Pennsylvania and traveling across the midwest and into Oklahoma, all crumpled and coffee-stained. There was also a school ID identifying the girl as a student at some academy in New Jersey and a letter, ostensibly from Polly's mother giving me, her granddad, permission to pick her up and drive her cross-country to her mom's home in California. Personally I thought I looked too young to be a grandfather.

"It should," Marta shrugged. "The school ID will check out - I have a friend on their Board of Trustees. 'Course if it gets to the point where they're checking her documents you're well fucked already."

I sighed. "Always a ray of sunshine. Well, we better get going. Polly, hop up in this beast we got and get comfortable." Polly turned to obey but Marta stopped her.

"Hang on, I got one more thing." Marta picked up a small box, opened it, and held it out. Polly reached in and pulled out a spill of glossy black hair. "You got those Scandinavian eyes, honey, look almost Asian, so I think this'll work." Marta dropped the box and pulled the wig onto Polly's head, fussing with it until it sat just right. "There." The ugly buzz cut was covered by shoulder-length, straight black hair, center parted, bangs low on her forehead. It softened her features, but when Polly saw herself in the truck's side-view mirror her face was transformed. She smiled, really smiled, for the first time since I'd known her.

"Time to go." I gave Marta a hug, then climbed up in the RV. The big diesel roared to life, then settled to a grumble as I eased us out back into the sunlight and towards the road.

I had Polly sit in the back, at the dining banquette as we headed for the Wal-mart. I didn't want her visible this close, still, to her former home. To keep her busy I had her cut one of the burner phones out of its blister pack. She figured out how to put the battery in without my help. It wasn't five minutes after she handed it to me that the tone went off. I glanced down at the small display. Amber Alert. Shit. Well, I'd expected it. I'd hoped to at least have until sundown, but that's luck. They had my Texas ID picture, which was terrible, and was not the ID I was carrying now, and the description of the SUV now hidden in a barn. We'd have to repaint it before using it again. Maybe better to sell it off and get something else even, I ruminated. Well, not my problem, at least not my first one.

Polly stayed quiet in back until we got to the Wal-mart. I parked towards the back of the lot, not way away in the corner but not in the midst of things either. I turned off the engine, and covered the windshield with sunshades. There was water in the tank, for which I thanked Marta silently. Polly watched without comment as I shaved off my mustache and beard. I took off my shirt to wet my head in the tiny shower. It was cramped and difficult for me to manage spreading the hair dye evenly. Polly spoke for the first time. "I can help. Come sit down." I ended up having to sit on the floor with my back to her. Her fingers were firm and soft as she massaged the smelly foam into my scalp. Her legs were warm where they pressed into my sides even through the denim of her cheap jeans. I let her work my hair longer than was strictly necessary, just enjoying the feel of her hands in my hair. It'd been a long time since anyone had touched me like that.

Then I stuck my head back under the shower, rinsed, toweled off. My hair was now an unremarkable dun. I pulled on a seed cap, warned Polly not to unlock the doors for any reason, and headed into the store. The order was waiting for pickup. In addition to the clothes there were some groceries, mostly road food, some coffee and a French press, cereal, soda, juice, milk, stuff like that. I paid cash.