Kidnapped in Key West. Edwina Raffa
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Matthew paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, then continued, “The next morning, the hurricane hit us full force and the houseboat’s cable snapped in two. I’ll never forget the terrified screams of the men as they were tossed into the water when the houseboat broke apart. I grabbed onto a wooden plank floating by. Believe me, I clung to it like a tick to a dog. I floated for hours until finally the hurricane was over and a passing freighter rescued me.
“When I got back to Long Key, I couldn’t believe the terrible damage to the bridge. Most of our hard work was wiped out. We had no choice but to start all over again. After the houseboat accident, Mr. Flagler ordered the construction of new dormitories on land and living in those made us feel much safer.
“Yes, Eddie, what with the hurricanes of nineteen-oh-six, nineteen-oh-nine, nineteen-ten, and the construction accidents, building the Key West Extension has been a tough job. Many men have given their lives to build Mr. Flagler’s Over-Sea Railroad, but thanks to workers like your father and me, it is almost finished. Why in just a little more than a week, Mr. Flagler will finally achieve his goal of connecting the U. S. mainland to Key West by rail.”
The old man fell silent. He looked off in the distance, as if the story had transported him back in time.
“Wow,” said Eddie. “That was some adventure. I’m sure glad you lived to tell it.”
Matthew’s attention snapped back to the present and he stood up to stretch. “So am I, Eddie, so am I. Well, I’ve kept you long enough. You’re probably anxious to be on your way.”
Eddie nodded and got up from the table. After thanking the Lawrences, he and Rex hurried through town to the jail. Eddie left Rex at the screen door and went inside.
The sheriff was tilted back in his chair with his hat pulled over his face taking a snooze.
“Ah-hum,” said Eddie, pretending to clear his throat.
The sheriff sat up and quickly put his hat back on his head.
“What do you want, boy?” asked Charlie Jenkins.
“I’d like to see my pa,” said Eddie.
“I reckon you can visit him just this once,” said the sheriff, getting up from his seat and unstrapping a ring of keys from his belt. “Come with me.”
Eddie followed the sheriff along a narrow hallway that reeked of stale sweat. When the lawman reached Pa’s cell, he stopped, opened the door, and let Eddie inside. Then he locked it again.
Frank Malone sat on the sagging mattress of his cot, listlessly peeling flakes of gray paint from the walls. Like prisoners before him, he’d found that it was a way to pass the time. He paid no attention to the cockroach crawling across his boot.
Seeing Pa locked up in such a bleak place made Eddie sick to his stomach. His hands began to tremble and he quickly clasped them behind his back so Pa wouldn’t see how scared he was.
Pa?” asked Eddie timidly.
Frank Malone stood up and gave his son a weak smile. His voice cracked a little when he spoke.
“I ain’t got no money for bail so they’ve locked me up till they can schedule my trial.”
“Trial?” asked Eddie. “Why are they having a trial? What happened last night?”
“After I told you to go back to camp,” explained Pa, “I went into the paymaster car to see about that light. I seen the safe door partway open, so I grabbed the handle and checked inside. It were empty.
“Then I heared a noise outside the back door. I walked out onto the platform and seen two men runnin’ off with the payroll bags. I chased ’em to the dock, but by the time I got there, they was already sailin’ off toward that favorite fishin’ hole of yours.
“Them robbers got away, but I seen their sailboat. It had a navy blue jib on it. I wanted to tell the sheriff, but he weren’t nowhere around. By then it was rainin’ buckets so I jist gave up and came on home.”
Pa’s eyes took on a frightened look as he continued, “Now Mr. Tate, he claims he didn’t see no other men. Just me. Eddie, he thinks I done stole the F.E.C. payroll! What’s worse, my fingerprints is all over that paymaster car.”
“Aren’t the thieves’ fingerprints on the doors too?” asked Eddie.
“No, they was wearin’ gloves,” said Pa. “I tried telling the sheriff all this, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“This is all my fault!” cried Eddie, his eyes welling up with tears. “If I had stayed home and done my chores like you told me, you wouldn’t have been out searching for me and we wouldn’t have seen that light!”
“It ain’t your fault, Eddie,” said Frank Malone. “It’s just the breaks.”
“They’ll match your fingerprints to the ones in the paymaster car,” said Eddie. He shut his eyes tight and pressed his fists hard against them to stop the tears.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” said Pa. “Now stop cryin’ and git on home. Remember, this ain’t your fault.”
Eddie hesitantly took a step toward Pa. Then he wrapped his arms around his father’s waist and buried his face in Pa’s shirt. Pa patted his back a few times, but said no more.
It was the hardest thing Eddie had ever done, but he finally let go of Pa and stepped away. Then he wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve and called to Charlie Jenkins.
The sheriff took his own good time coming. He opened the door and escorted Eddie out, immediately locking the cell behind him.
Eddie walked slowly outside to get Rex, guilt still gnawing at his heart. No matter what Pa said, Eddie felt responsible. He trudged home with Rex at his side, oblivious to the rain that soaked him to the skin.
When Eddie entered the tent, he could tell right away that it had been searched. The two cots were in the middle of the floor and the trunks that held their clothes had been ransacked. Even some of the floorboards had been pried up. Pa was right. Sheriff Jenkins wasn’t buying Pa’s story one bit and had checked the tent from top to bottom.
Eddie thought about straightening things up, but he was just too tired. He kicked off his wet shoes and fell into bed. He pulled the blanket over his head and soon the rhythm of the rain on the canvas roof lulled him to sleep. Rex jumped up on the cot and kept his faithful watch all through the night.
The next day was Sunday and Eddie awoke to golden sunshine in a cloudless blue sky. He felt clearheaded after a good night’s sleep and his brain was simmering with a plan. He talked out loud to Rex while he put the tent back in order and changed his clothes.