Zal heard a moan or a howl in the distance, and a moment later he recognized it to be the call of a locomotive somewhere.
He heard a rhythmic swishing. He felt himself moving, floating on a raft. A silhouette stood above him with a guitar slung over its back and a pole in its hands. It used the pole to guide the raft through the water. Tules stood tall in the water along the shore. Was it a shore? The moon passed between and behind the tallest of them, following the raft as the raft followed the imperceptibly persistent current.
Tule Raft, by Roman Loranc
As the far shore drifted away from Zal, the moon rose above the ten-foot bull rushes. The moon continued to rise, and the tules closed in again. The slough waters lapped through the woven floor of the tule raft. He felt the slough water splash against his face.
Zal awoke to yellow daylight and a face-bath. Seemo whined quietly and licked his face. Zal lifted his head to see the vacant interior of an empty boxcar. Morning light filled the steel room, and there was no visible trace of the shadow man and his guitar. Zal stood up, and looked out the door. The rail yard and the city were gone. There was nothing but agriculture as far as he could see, not even ghosts of mountains in the smoky air. He couldn’t see a single hill, or even an overpass. The train must have moved up or down the line; just how far, he didn’t think to guess. Seemo sniffed at something on the steel floor, and Zal came to investigate. He saw a twenty-dollar bill lying there. He picked it up and sniffed it, guessing that its scent might hold some clues of its past, but he smelled only the green of money. He wondered whether he should stay in the boxcar. If he did, would it take him even farther away from Bakersfield, or would it take him back? He shrunk at the thought of each prospect, and jumped out of the car. Seemo leapt out after him.
They spent the next night in a walnut grove. Some of the fruit was ripe. Zal skinned and shelled some nuts. He tossed Seemo a few.
They crept through the next town they came upon, scrounging whatever food they could, and they continued to do so together for days and nights on end. But the towns had many eyes. Zal grew wary and decided that he and Seemo should try their luck in the countryside for a while.
And so the two companions continued on from farm to farm. Sometimes one of them would do better than the other. Zal favored orchards. Seemo was partial to the occasional unwary rodent or feline, but he would trust Zal’s lead unless game presented itself. Both of them were always hungry. Seemo was content enough to be with his master, but Zal could only trade the pangs of hunger for the torments of guilt and paranoia.