| The Creative Expressions of... Bill Vivrett |
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| Updated 01.27.06 |
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| Page 3 of 8 |
| The Troll... This troop train had been moving south from Milwaukee with ever more recruits boarding in Chicago and humid St. Louis, where those bound for Little Rock and Texas would continue on the Missouri Pacific line. The packed troop train became an oven of humanity as it moved through the late night heartland hills. On this August night, as the train passed through Victoria and approached the old railroad town of DeSoto, Harry made a naive and life changing decision. (PS 91:11-12) "When the train stops here for coal and mail, I'll get off. Everyone is asleep and by the time Kristin realizes, maybe she'll be safely with Aunt Maude and I can contact them there. Kristin knows I will be OK. This will be best for Vinny too. Maybe someday we'll meet again." The train eased across Mooney's bridge trestle, then Buck's bridge, with a long slow curve as it entered the north end of the sleeping town. When it stopped, momentarily for the switchman and main line clearance, Harry got off and disappeared into the woods by Joachim Creek. In De Soto, multiple sets of tracks ran straight, through a flat ancient valley carved by Joachim Creek which still runs parallel to the tracks and the Main street. This had long been a railroad town and had extensive car shops for new construction and repairs. "Bonnie, there's somethin'-or someone livin under the ole stone bridge up the hill," Billy Blue announced to his wife. "The one the W.P.A. was gonna' tear down?" the other room queried. "Yep," Blue answered, "But then the war broke out." Pause. "I'm talkin bout the ole stone bridge up th' hill to the west, up in tha' woods," he gestured to no one. Bonnie and Billy Blue lived at the end of North Third Street, parallel to Main, last house before the street dropped off. 'Missouri' Blue got the name from cute French nurses and it stuck. In the Great War, under Black jack Pershing, Blue had been hit in the groin with shrapnel resulting in 85% disability. Everything changed after that! She married him anyway. But they were childless. Neither became bitter but both became increasingly eccentric; more sensitive to the needs of others and Blue became ever more aware of the world around him. Each day was a gift, the way he saw it. "It's a boy," Blue told her the very next day. "Prob'ly some young hobo, come up from a freight train," she said without looking up from her book. "Well, we gotta take food up ther' reg'lar till he moves on." "I'll start takin' food after supper tonight," Blue responded. "Every night," she got the last word. And each evening, after dark, he climbed the path up the hill to the northwest and set an army tray of food on a flat rock near the stone bridge tunnel. Blue never nosed around. And he never saw anyone. For her part, Bonnie Blue was a night owl who read incessantly; mysteries, mostly. All this was very real to her and ordinary. Harry, even in this gathering winter darkness perceived quickly that Blue meant everything for his good. So Harry made certain he was never around when Blue was. Harry learned early to follow the milkman, lifting a pint and a half from a different porch each morning. "I'll keep a careful daily record and pay them back, soon," Harry resolved. And he did, later doubling the value of what he took. Their dad had been a dairy farmer and sometime stonemason. In no time, Harry had wedged loose stones, refitted a lintel where there was none and rearranged other stones to build a small crawl in room midway through the tunnel's arched sidewall. He used insulation and wood from wrecked freight cars and when he finished, no one could tell he lived in the sidewall of the tunnel. Of course, he was almost never there. In his gray confines of yet another Autumn dawn Harry began the monologues. |
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