Coot let his eyes drift to the cotton field across the railroad tracks again. The field was almost pure white in the moonlight. He thought about what it would be like to grow old with a woman who didn’t love him. He wondered if he would ever be able to make her feel something for him.

“What about Will?” Coot asked. “Did you tell him you were leaving?” No sooner had the words exited his mouth than he was sorry he said them.

“Yeah, I told him. But far as I’m concerned, he’s dead to me.” Judy cut her eyes to the clock again. “I ain’t gonna grovel for no man.”

The sound of frogs broke the stillness in the air. There must’ve been a billion of them singing together. It was a wonderful sound, Coot thought. He looked at the old woman on the platform. He smiled. She did not smile at him.

Finally Judy stood abruptly. She said, “You know, I don’t feel so good, Coot.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sick.”

“Sick? You were fine two seconds ago, honey.”

She made a face. “Please don’t call me that. I don’t feel good. Come with me to the restroom, Coot.”

He hooked her arm around his. She guided him across the empty platform. The old woman in the shawl watched them pass.

They reached the side of the building. The entire side of the depot was dark where lantern light didn’t reach. Coot could see the silhouettes of the outhouses in the distance. But Judy wasn’t walking toward them. She was standing still, glancing in all directions. Uneasy.

“Why’re you stopping?” Coot asked. “The outhouses are over there.”

Judy didn’t answer.

A train whistle squealed in the distance. A small white light was miles away, getting bigger. Coot felt the vibration that went with the whistle. “C’mon, Judy, we gotta hurry. You can use the bathroom on the train—”

Something smashed against Coot’s head. He heard something in his face break. He fell backward on the dirt. Something hit him again.

Judy screamed, “You idiot, don’t kill him!”

Warm blood came out of Coot’s nose and ran all over his face. He squinted his eyes and saw the figure of a man in the moonlight. He saw dimples. Coot moaned, “Baby Joe?”

“Sorry, Coot,” said Baby Joe, tossing a baseball bat onto the ground. “But if you try anything, I’ll have to kill ya, buddy.”

“Baby Joe, what are you—”

“Just shut up, Coot. This’ll be a lot easier if you shut up.”

Then Baby Joe opened Coot’s bag and fumbled through the clothes. He took the tin box in his hands and weighed it. He smiled and said, “Pleasure doing business with you, Preacher.”

Judy said, “We gotta hurry, Joe. Train’s almost here.”

“Baby Joe, what are you doing?”