The Alley By The Railyard (W&A Story)

Marceline Georgia, October 1879

The frightened cocker spaniel pressed her back against the rough wooden fence that blocked the alleyway. Her heart hammered into her chest, which was rapidly rising and falling as she felt adrenaline serge through her body. The silver set of handcuffs hung limply from her right wrist, swinging back and forth in motion from her failed previous attempt to climb the fence. All which that accomplished was a great rip in her skirt. She wanted to curl into a ball and vanish into the earth. She had never been in this area of town. Far into the industrial blocks beyond the trainyard. Brick dirty walls towered over her on each side of the dank alley, and if it wasn't for the handful of barrels and creates that stood in neat piles awaiting delivery, she would have assumed it was abandoned. The narrow size of the ally made the approaching gang of ruffians all the more threatening as the marched in side by side in the shadows.

“Hey there sweetheart,” The big thug said as he approached, stepping through the entrance of the alley. He and his two companions leered as they came closer to the frightened young woman. “We an't gonna hurt chu. Much...wasit again? Lady?” a rough chortle “What a nice name for such a delicate thing.”

The tan furred spaniel was too frightened for words. Her eyes darted around as she looked for a way out. Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced her ears. The thugs looked over their shoulders as a young railroad mutt called to their attention. He stood with a scowl across his maw in the bright light at the entrance behind them, a brakeman's club clutched in one hand. No doubt he had seen her being pursued across the trainyard before she ran into this alley. The three thugs turned around, eyes narrowed and canine ears flat against their heads. Their hands balling into fists, threatening.

The fight was quick and surprisingly one sided. The cocker watched, mouth agog and eyes the size of dinner plates as the three ratted mongrels charged the railroad dog. With one good swing and a sickening crack, he took out his first assailant with the brake-club. There was a tangle of limbs, the grunt of a punch finding a stomach, and a hiss as the railroader received a knock to the shoulder. A barrel was knocked over and rolled across the alleyway. Another swing of the brake-club, and the other two thugs decided that whatever Lady was worth, it wasn't enough to end up with a cracked skull.

The mutt chased all three of them, two holding busted shoulders and one with a hand over his head, to the entrance of the ally. Then stopped as they vanished into the dust, with only a cocked muzzle and a satisfied snort given to them. Turning back to her, she realized that she recognized him as the same railroader who she had seen giving a smile and wave when she watched trains at the depot. She kept her back pressed against the wooden boards, unable to stop shaking. Her heart continued to hammer in her chest as her adrenaline slowly began to come down. He began to slowly approach her. Stopping only to retrieve a flatcap that had been knocked off his head in the struggle. His stocky tail fluttering.

“Hey, Pidge what are you doing on this side of the tracks?”

The spaniel looked up at her savor, unable to hold back the moisture gathering in the corner of her eyes. He stopped a few feet ahead of her, leaning the brake-club against the brick wall. His light gray fur was disheveled from the fight, and she could see now that he had gained a bruised eye in her defense. He cocked his head, looking her over, and placed his hands on his hips before a crooked smile split his handsome muzzle. She could see his eyes landing on the shackles that hung from one delicate wrist.

“Please, stay back!” She barked, holding a hand out in front of her, the one which didn't have a set of handcuffs dangling from them.

“No worries. No worries” He repeated, holding up both of his hands for her to see, before padding down his railroad overalls. Showing her that he carried no weapons other then the hickory stick that was now laying against the brick wall.

“No, don't come any closer!” Her voice went up in pitch, and his smile faded as he stopped walking. He raised his hands to show her he meant no harm. However, the fear and adrenaline from her recent encounter meant she was not taking any chances. “Stay away from me!”

“It's alright, they're gone. You're perfectly safe.” His voice was kind, soothing. “What are you doing here?”

Lady's eyes darted around the alleyway, looking for a quick escape. However, her vision began to blur as tears started to flow.

“I...I don't know,” she stammered, her will not to cry slowly disintegrating. One of her hands numbly rose to clutch and pull at an ear nervously. “It all went so wrong so quickly. I just had to run.”

A genuine look of concern crossed the mutt's face. He brushed a little bit of dust off his shoulder before reaching into his coverall pocket. Lady pressed herself even closer to the fence, recoiling as he reached into the pocket. Just because she had met him briefly once before, and seen him on his trains, did not mean she could trust him anymore then those bums who just tried to harm her. Her flinch did not go unnoticed, and as he produced a white handkerchief and handed it to her she started openly sobbing. She wanted to be at her home, wanted her parents to be there. How had things gone so wrong so quickly after they had left? One second she was looking over their newborn, her step brother, the next...

“Easy there Pidgin. That's some waterworks,” Though his words may have been playful, his eyes were deadly serous. “What happened?”

The spaniel slid down the fence, crumbling to her knees. The rough cobblestone that made up the floor of the alley was damp from a recent rainstorm. She kept crying and replied numbly; “I ran into them, and they grabbed me and when I got away they started chasing-”

“No, I mean...that.” He interrupted before pointing to the handcuffs. She looked up, suddenly feeling the urge the hide the shackles behind her back. He repeated; “What happened?”

She reached with her free hand and grabbed the handcuff, feeling a shudder roll through her. It was as if they were a tattoo that tainted her pristine female body. A mark of delinquency proclaiming her to be as Aunt Sara had proclaimed upon their initial placement, a criminal. Lady let out a hard shudder as she imagined the old battleship's angry stare, and the smug smiles of her two children, and it made her feel ill. Burying her face into her knees, hiding among the long red fur of her ears, she sobbed anew. She had worked so hard, going from a foster child to an adopted daughter. It just wasn't fair. She knew that no matter what, Aunt Sara's voice would be heard before her's. She couldn't bare the thought of Jim and Darling being told what a bad girl she was, and how they had made such a mistake in adopting her. Regardless if they believed Aunt Sara's twisted and altered version of the events or not, it was going to be a challenge to explain.

On top of that, having to run from the police! Sara had called the constable and she had been arrested! No doubt there was a warrant for her now. Having to run from then, she had nearly been hit by multiple carriages and a streetcar. Then, to run into those thugs! She had only gotten away from them unscathed because she had run into, by sheer coincidence no less, into the one railroad mutt who not only would recognize her, but had the courage to help. It was just too much to handle. Shuddering as she worked to swallow the last of her weeping, Lady looked up through her own cocker ears at the mutt. Oh, what he must be thinking of her! Sobbing like a child after having lifted not one finger to protect herself. So pathetic.

“Ah, you poor kid,” he said gently. “Take your time. There is no hurry.”

Surprised, Lady swallowed another sob that threatened to escape her. Sniffing, she pushed her ears away from her face. For the first time, she looked at him thoroughly. He stood frozen in his position after her delirious request, hands at his hips with the thumbs in his pockets. The look he wore was of complete concern, as if Lady was made of glass and could shatter at any moment. Taking a deep breath, she started to pull herself together. She was a proper young woman, who was trained to have manors, despite the less then desirable situation.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.” She began, wiping away her tears with her sleeve before running her hands down her muzzle in an attempt to smooth out the ruined fur. Slowly, she began to rise to her feet. “I was just scared, I've never been...in a situation like that.”

She closed her eyes and shook unsteadily, still recovering from her collapse. Opening them again, she looked over and saw a gray hand held out to assist. Gingerly, she placed her own into it, and allowed him to help her stand. Her fingers seemed so delicate against his palm.

“Don't worry about it. Those morons like to hang around the railroad yard. Always trying to steal things from railcars sitting in the sidings. They talk the big talk, but as soon as a bunch of us railroad men show up they turn tail. Dumb too,” He chuckled, the corners of his mouth turning up in a charming smile. “As soon as I showed them the one-two, they faded like the cops were after them. If anything, I expect the yardlets to be pleased to hear one of us finally got to hit them with a club.”

Lady ran her hands through her ears, attempting to smooth out the fur. “But I don't understand. Is that why you came to help?”

The mongrel shrugged, Lady noting how his shoulders drop significantly. “Well, who knows what others out there would do to such a beautiful and classy girl such as yourself. Besides, I'm on switching duty. Saving some damsels just helps to lighten the mood.” His eyebrows arched in good humor, triangular ears perking.

The spaniel felt some of her tears and misery departing. Her chest grew lighter and a soft smile, light enough that it was almost invisible, grew across her muzzle. “Really?”

“Oh yeah!” he gave her an encouraging wink. Smiling through his towseld fur. There was a roguish charm that Lady couldn't help but find fascinating. “Cheer up little Pidgin. You mustn't be down-harden, you're with me! We'll see what we can do about ditching that hardware. Then you'll be right as rain.”

“You can help me get rid of these?” She asked, holding her hand out to present the handcuffs.

“You better believe it! You got yourself a true blue doer of all things mechanical!” He gave her an overly dramatic deep bow. “We'll go to the railroad's machine shop and get those off you. Then you can tell me what on earth happened.”

She looked into his brown eyes, full of warmth and energy with the slight twinkle of mischief. Then hoped beyond hope that she was making a good decision. Taking a deep annihilation to steady herself, she spoke. “Thank you, but what is your name, sir?”

His triumphant smile deepened. He was handsome, no question about that! She wasn't quite used to being around canine men her own age, much less attractive ones. She couldn't help but notice his fur. He was young, no older then a year or so then herself. However, his fur was unkempt and tousled, and his features sharp and strong. His muzzle full of whiskers. Suddenly, she found herself blushing.

“You can call me The Tramp little Pidgen.”

“Oh, well. Thank you Mr. Tramp. And my name isn't Pidgen, it's Lady.”

He gave her a crooked smile that made her blush hotter then she was comfortable with. “Really? That's a pretty name, however I kinda like Pidge better.”