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He looks at me, sorrow weighing heavy in his eyes.
“I told myself I was only gonna do it until we were caught up on our bills and paid off our loans. Then I said until we bought a new car. Then until Eleanor got a new job, her farm, and then…” With another rolling sigh, he lifts up the glass of water on the table and takes a drink. “There was always another reason.”
“That how you bought your place and the horses?” I ask.
“Eventually, yes, but before then…there was a train derailment, not far outside of Milwaukee. The drugs were found when the Feds sent guys to investigate. I thought I was gonna get busted, locked up for sure. But this young guy shows up. Clay. He was in his late twenties back then. Told me he had connections that could make sure those drugs disappeared, were forgotten about, but I’d have to step up my game. Bigger shipments. More cargo. It was all going to the West Coast, and those were my trains, so I agreed. I did everything his men asked for several years and the payments got bigger. Never saw him again until I had to quit.”
“Quit the railroad?” I ask, putting it all together in my head.
“That, too. Everything was going digital, automated, even the gates. I couldn’t stay late, couldn’t let trucks in and out with the sensors and cameras improving. All the cargo was being coded, too, tracked by computers and weight. Too much risk. The money I made hadn’t made me rich. It was just always enough to make us want more. We still lived in the same apartment, but we managed to save enough for a down payment on the farm. Grace was still young and Eleanor wanted to get her out of the city. So did I. Our neighborhood was getting rougher by the day. I asked the truck driver to send a message to the boss. I didn’t even know that was Clay for sure. I’d only seen him that one time and figured he might be some kind of shady lawyer helping out the Boys or something.”
Fuck, did this guy get in over his head.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
Nelson stares off into space, and I wait a few seconds before asking, “What happened then? Tell me the rest.”
“Clay came to our apartment. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t scare me. But I didn’t know they knew as much about me as they did. Stupid, I know, but I just wasn’t thinking deep into how all this worked. He said he appreciated all I’d done for them and his family was mine—Old Town Boys for life. My damn heart sank. He gave me a duffel bag full of cash. Said there’d always be more if I needed it, all I had to do was let him know. Eleanor didn’t want me to take the money, but I was afraid not to.”
I say nothing until he looks up, those pale eyes of his like phantoms.
“Now you know. I was a fool and a coward,” he whispers.
Not quite.
Grendal had him over a barrel and wanted to keep him there.
“You still took their money? That last big payment?”
He nods. “I had to. The message was clear to me. It was take it or else…” He shrugs. “He was buying my silence. If I didn’t agree, he’d do it another way. Permanently. And it wouldn’t just be me…he made sure he waited until Eleanor and Grace were in the room. The money was enough to buy the farm outright, fix it up, get pumpkins planted, buy the horses.”
His gaze goes wistful for a second, like he’s seeing the life he always wanted.
“I thought maybe it was all over. Maybe we’d heard the last of them. Gracie graduated, top of her class, and I had the money to pay her tuition. I was so proud. So was her mother. Eleanor got sick while Grace was wrapping up her schooling. Cancer. We didn’t tell Grace until she graduated. Eleanor fought it the whole time, but the crap kept spreading. Insurance maxed out. Wouldn’t pay for more, but she was still eaten up with cancer and forced into an early retirement. I used up our reserves taking her to the best doctor I could buy, borrowed all I could, but…goddammit, it wasn’t enough.”
His hands are shaking now.
The horror of his situation makes my guts churn.
Leaning over, I lay a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, Nelson. You tried to do right. For you, your wife, for Grace. Nothing’s completely black and white in hard times.”
“No, it was crystal clear,” he says. “I don’t know how Clay found out about our situation, but he did. He offered me more money. Free and clear of interest for services rendered. I hadn’t heard from him for years, so I believed what he said. I paid off the medical bills, paid off the equity loans against the farm, and Grace and I went on after Eleanor died. Then the troubles started. Vandalism, fires, crops destroyed. I reported it, but the cops acted like I’d done it on purpose. So did insurance. About a year ago, Clay shows up. Said I’d missed payments on that last big loan he’d so generously offered. I apologized, promised I’d start making them right away. And I did, as much as I could. He bled us fucking dry.”
