Some years ago, the railroad built a spur over the creek. It went out across the marsh to the beach and right up to the end of the Iron Pier. I guess it was so tourists just passing through wouldn’t need to transfer into carriages in town. The train never got much use and the railroad went broke, but the tracks were still there and they made a shortcut for me to get from Miss Lil’s house into town.
I was on the rail bed walking toward the wooden trestle bridge over the creek that’d bring me in just east of town. As I got near it, I was surprised to see my brother coming across the other way. From a distance at least, he looked sober.
Daniel hardly ever came to town. When he did, he didn’t cover the ten miles there on foot. He looked as surprised as I was at first, but then he waved at me
