Trains, Elephants and Fishing

Bulgarian Jackson sat on the railroad track tossing stones into the pond. "I ever told you about the baby elephant we found out here back in '63?"

Rudolph was down by the pond tying a piece of line to a stick. "I really don't want to hear anymore of your stories, Jackson." He dropped the line into the water. "And quit throwing rocks. You'll scare the fish away." He looked up the tracks and then back at Bulgarian. "You sure this trains coming?"

"Sure the trains coming. Be here before you pull any fish outa that damn pond, that's fer sure." He dropped the remaining stones from his hands. "And I told you, call me Bulgarian. I likes the sound of it."

"Shit. Bulgarian? That's the stupidest nickname I ever heard. You ain't even Bulgarian. I'll bet you don't even know where Bulgaria is."

"Oh, shut up. I knows where it is. Bulgarian's a good a name as any. . .Rudolph." Bulgarian chuckled to himself and watched as something began to tug at Rudolph's line. "I think you got something!"

Rudolph was gripping the stick harder and concentrating on the water. "Shhh! You'll scare him," he whispered. They both sat and watched the now still line for a few moments.

"You lost him," Bulgarian said. "Now, about that little elephant. Back in '63 I was riding with a guy named Chicago John. John was great guy. Had this hump on his back that was hard to look at, cause you could just feel the hurt comin off it, but the nicest guy you ever wanna meet."

Rudolph reached over and picked an apple up from the ground beside him and took a bite.

"Me and Chicago John hopped this boxcar down in Angel city. We get in and get settled and John breaks out this peach cobbler he'd lifted before we ever realize there was a fella in the car, sitting in the shadows and spooking me out. Well, John just gets up and goes over to the fella. Goes right over to him and offers him some of our pie. See what I mean? Great guy, John was. Great guy. Anway, that other fella don't seem to want no pie cause he just jumps up and starts making motions with his hands. He had white paint all over his face and just going crazy with his hands and not saying nothing."

Rudolph said, "White paint? Don't tell me. . ."

"Yup. A friggin mime!"

Rudolph took another bite of the apple. "Man, I hate mimes."

"Yeah, me too. So we got out that car just as soon as we could. That was right around here. They slow down coming round this bend so its an easy jump and easy to hitch. Ain't got no yard boss running around looking for heads to crack, neither."

"I thought you said this was an elephant story."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm getting there. Anyway, John hurts hisself when we jumped so I come to this pond for some water and let him sit. That's when I seen there was big old fish in there. Anyway, I was filling up the jug, and I hears John start screaming. Scared the living hell out of me. I run back to him and he's standing there his hump keeping him bent over. He's pointing into the bushes on the other side of the tracks and jus screaming. I looks and damned if there wasn't a baby elephant standing there staring back at us."

"No shit?" Rudolph rolled up his sleeve and started scratching at a pair of tattoos. One was of an octopus and the other looked like a pyramid.

"What's that?" Bulgarian asked, pointing at Rudolph's arm.

"It's an octopus. What's it look like?"

"No, not that one. The other. That some kind of pyramid?"

"Yeah. Kinda. Got em like this down in South America. Built by the Incas." He rolled his sleeve back down.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep. I used to be real interested in them. Studied about them in college."

"You was in college?" Bulgarian sat back and stared, as if he'd never heard of such a thing.

Rudolph just nodded and took another bite out of his apple before dropping it back on the ground beside him.

"Well, I'll be."

"So what happened with that elephant? How'd it get there?"

"Shit, I don't know. Don't really care, neither."

Rudolph rolled his eyes. "So what'd you guys do with it?"

"Whattaya mean what did we do with it? What would you do with a friggin elephant? We left it alone." A whistle blew in the distance and both men looked up the tracks.

Rudolph stood up and untied the line from the stick. He patted the dirt from his pants and walked over to stand next to Bulgarian. "But what happened to the elephant? And, what exactly does your elephant have to do with fishing?"

"Shit, I don't know. Elephant's probably still around here somewhere, and I wasn't trying to tell you no fishing story. I was just talking." Bulgarian got to his feet and stepped back from the tracks.

"See. That's why I hate your stories, Jackson. They never have no finish or reason to 'em." Rudolph rolled up his other sleeve and started scratching just as the train came into sight.

"I told you to call me Bulgarian." The train was coming closer. Bulgarian looked at Rudolph's arm, saw the tattoo and asked, "What's that?"

The engine car rolled slowly passed them.

Rudolph rolled his eyes and looked at Bulgarian. "Just a picture of the prostitute I was in love with once. Almost married her." He spotted an open car and took off running toward it. "Come on, Bulgarian, you can tell me another stupid story once we're on the train."

Bulgarian followed close behind Rudolph and said to himself, "Hope there ain't no mime on this car."