May 21, 1935, in the layers of dust that occupy all regions of the shanty house, small footprints tread their way to stand in front of the snoring man lying upon the couch. The footprints belong to a young girl of eleven. She’s just old enough to think she knows everything without knowing anything at all. She has golden hair and bright blue eyes. Her name is Patricia Ester Partridge, but everyone calls her Pep. She looks blithely at the rugged man snoring on the dust-covered couch; in her hand she held a homemade knapsack stuffed to the brim. Pep eyes the half empty bottle of whiskey loosely hanging in the man’s grip. She snatches it, then smiles. “Sweet revenge.” She whispers to herself, before she’s off, flying through the door, not giving the slanted, shanty house a backwards glance.

Ten miles, that’s how far Pep had judged she would have to walk to get to the train station. The loose change in her knapsack rattles with every step. Eleven dollars and twenty-two cents, consisting of one dollar, six quarters, forty-five dimes, six-seven nickels and eighty-seven pennies, has been saved over the time span of two years. Most of it had been earned honestly, most of it. Pep spots a silver can along the highway, thrown there by some passerby in an automobile. An automobile, Pep would sure love to own one of those, but for now she entertains herself by kicking the glimmering can.

Two hours and fifty-one minutes later, as the sun begins to reach high noon, Pep arrives in the town of Sidney, Nebraska, with only one purpose. She means to catch the Union Pacific line at 12:10 bound for Cheyenne. From Cheyenne, Pep plans to make her way to California, specifically, the city of Los Angeles. Pep saw a picture of Los Angeles once, the very same picture that is now folded in her knapsack.

Pep looks around for a friendly face to ask directions. She settles for an older man sweeping the porch outside the general store. “Hey, ‘cuse me, where’s the train station, sir?” Pep belts out, trying to act as old as she can appear.

The man stops his work to look down at her. “Why, what’s a young lass such as yourself doing walking around town all by her lonesome?” He asks with a gentle smile.

“That’s my business, why don’t you mind yours, and tell me where’s the train station.” Pep counters.

“About a quarter mile that way,” The man points to his right.

“Thank you,” Pep begins to walk again, and then stops. “I’m meetin’ my mama there, if you must know.” Pep with the sweetest most innocent voice she can muster.

“Oh I see… Say, would your mama object to her child having a lollipop?”

With her knapsack five cents lighter and her sweet tooth fully satisfied, Pep sets off again to arrive at the train station ten minutes later. Pep looks around. A few people are boarding the train, which will depart in five minutes. She walks up to the ticket booth, barely able to see above the ledge. “One ticket for the 12:10 to Cheyenne, please.”

The man looks down at her. “I see…” He mutters. “That will be five dollars.” Pep rummages around in her knapsack and lays a fist full of change on the ledge. She counts it out.

“Here, ya go.” She pipes. The man looks at her and recounts it, sending back to nickels her way along with a ticket.

Pep boards the first car available for third class. It’s vacant. She stands in the aisle for a moment. Never has she chosen a seat on a train before. She decides to go with the bench on the left in the very middle. She’s content with it as she looks out the window, waiting for the landscape to go rushing by any minute now, unaware of the commotion three cars back…

A police whistle shrills as two officers of the law run through the last passenger car on the train, chasing a young boy with dark hair, green eyes, and a mischievous smile carrying a black leather case. This is Sal. A boy of twelve, with a juvenile record that’s one-inch thick back in his hometown of Detroit. Dressed in rags, he jumps out from the train car with the officers following in hot pursuit. Just before the officers exit the car, Sal jumps back on the train a car ahead, unseen by the men.

The train’s whistle blows. Slowly, the wheels begin to turn. The officers look around in panic, when suddenly Sal pokes his head out of a window and sticks his tongue out at them. The officers point and scramble to get back on the departing train. Sal laughs at them as the try running alongside the train that is until one man makes one last leap and manages to make it on the train, leaving the other panting on the platform.

Sal shoves his head back through the window. He’s trapped! In panic, he makes his way to the front of the train farthest away from the officer. The few passengers he passes in a hurry slant their eyes at him, unaware of the truth. That’s when Sal makes his way to the first car available to third class. Pep’s eyes follow him from the back of the car to the front, where he stops, sees he’s trapped, and turns. He runs back to where Pep is sitting.

“Get up now!” Sal whispers in a rush, while eyeing the back door of the car for any sign of moment.

“Uh, ‘cuse me?” Pep asks with bewilderment, not moving an inch.

“Just get up,” Sal says with irritation, as he grabs her arm to force her up.

“Hey, watch it buster!” Pep shouts as she gets up to confront him. Sal pushes her aside, yanks the wood grate underneath the seat aside, shoves the black leather case underneath and squeezes himself underneath the seat as well.

“What are you lookin’ at?” Sal snaps when he sees the astonished look upon Pep’s face. He pulls the wood grate back into position. Pep stands there, amazed at this concealment. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” An invisible voice barks at her.

Pep sits back down, dumbfounded, just as the officer opens the rear door to the car. Pep turns back to look at him, they make eye contact. Peps turns back to look out the window, as she hears the heavy footsteps of the man make his way over to her. The footsteps stop in front of her. “You seen a boy run through here?” The man asks with a deep bellowing voice.

Pep turns to look at him with innocent eyes. “No, sir.”
“You wouldn’t lie to an officer of the law, would you, missy?”

“You say you’re an officer of the law, how do I know?” Pep asks in the sweetest voice she can muster. The man’s face twitches, but he produces a golden badge. “Very well, but my answer remains the same.” Pep comments. The man looks around the car. “Look all you want, there is no one here but us.”

The man folds his arms. “You got a ticket, missy?” Pep produces her ticket from within her pocket. She hands it to the man. He looks at it for a second before handing it back to her. “You all by yourself?”

“My daddy put me on this train. My mama is waiting for me at the station in Cheyenne.” Pep replies, turning to look out the window again. The smug look on the man’s face goes unseen by Pep.

“Well, I guess as an officer of the law, I should accompany you until you are back under parental guidance.” The man takes a seat across the aisle from her.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your job by looking for that boy?” Pep snaps.

“He’s probably already jumped the train. You said it yourself; no one has run through here.” The man finished with a gleaming smile as he takes out a cigarette. Pep furrows her brow.

“Good going,” The voice underneath her whispers.

“I could have turned you in.” Pep whispers back facing the window.

“I’m going to be found out, anyway. I can’t stay like this all the way to Cheyenne,” the voice whispers.

“You got yourself into this mess.” Pep whispers back.

“And I’m getting us out.”

“Oh yeah, and how is that?”

“Stand up and go sit at the back of the car, make sure to get his full attention.”

“What?”

“Just do it… now.”

Pep stands abruptly, glares at the man as he looks at her. She turns and stomps dramatically back to sit at the very back of the car. The officer watches her with a questionable look the whole time. When he turns to face forward his head is whacked with a black leather case, knocking the cigarette right out of his mouth. “Run!” Sal yells. As the dazed officer is recovering, Sal picks up his cigarette, sticks it in his own mouth and runs along the car to stand on the outside platform with Pep.

Sal slams the door shut. “What now?” Pep yells, the wind blowing her blonde hair in all directions.

“We jump!” Sal shouts back at her.

“Are you crazy?” Pep screams.

“Not as crazy as a person that would stay on this train after assaulting an officer.” Sal crouches low to the ground, makes the sign of the cross, and takes a leap of faith. Pep looks back at the officer rushing to the door; she takes the plunge.

With her knapsack in hand, she hurtles onto the ground, spinning multiple times, until she rolls to halt. It takes a moment for her to regain the air that was knocked out of her. She soon gets up and looks around for Sal. She walks over to the boy dusting himself off, as the train, with the officer still aboard speeds off.

Sal looks up when he sees her approach. “Not bad for a rookie,” Sal gives her a mischievous smile.

“Who the hell are you!” Pep growls. “I don't stick my neck out for criminals." She adds.

"Name's Sal Flanagan and I believe you just did." Sal offers his hand to shake. Pep shrugs it away.

"Well, Sal Flanagan, what does that officer want with you?"

"Nah uh, you gotta tell me your name first, so I know you ain't a spy." Sal takes a puff of his cigarette.

“A spy? For the law? What do I look like?”
“It could be ruse.”

Pep rolls her eyes. "I'm Pep."

"Pep? That ain’t a girl’s name.”

"It’s Patricia Ester Partridge, but everyone calls-called me Pep."

"Hey, that's clever."

"Yes, but you still haven't answered my question." Pep says, grabbing at her knapsack.

“Myself and the law got into a misunderstanding back in Omaha.” Sal begins to walk down to the tree line. Pep follows after him, finally admitting to herself that she finds this mysterious stranger intriguing.

“Omaha? Is that where you’re from?” Pep asks with excitement.

“No, no, I’m from Detroit.” Sal reaches the trees and begins to look around the ground for something, still puffing away at the cigarette.

“Detroit?!” Pep eyes widen. “What’s it like?”

Sal stops looking at the ground to stare back at her. “It’s stinks, it’s crowded and every corner you turn there’s fifty men, standing in some line, outta work.” Sal goes back to search the ground.

“Yes, yes, but what about the buildings. Do they really touch the sky?” Pep asks with excitement.

“I guess. It really ain’t much to see.” Sal finally finds what he was looking for, a long walking stick. He heads back to the tracks. Pep follows after him.

“Not much to see?! I bet it sure beats where I come from!” Pep exclaims. There’s a moment of silence. “Well don’t you want to know where I come from?”
Sal reaches the tracks. He begins to walk down the middle. “No.”

Pep shuts up after his comment. She follows along behind him. The two walk for a few moments in silence.

Suddenly, Sal turns back to Pep. “Are you gonna follow me all the way to Cheyenne?!” He snaps.

“You were the one with the brilliant idea to jump off the train!” Pep yells in defense.

“I didn’t think you’d actually jump!”
“Well I did.”

“Haven’t you got any parents to go back to?” Sal counters with.

“My mama died when I was four. My daddy spent everything we had on his liquor, so he ain’t got a penny to his name. No way I’m going back there.” Sal moans. “What about you?” Pep lets curiosity get the best of her.

Sal looks back at her for a second. “Can I trust you?” He asks. Pep nods. “What I am about to tell you is true, and it has to remain a secret, you here? Don’t tell no body.” Pep nods again, intrigued. “I was born to millionaires, but they died when I was just a baby, to keep me from gaining my inheritance, a man named Clark Thompson put me in an orphanage in Detroit.”

There was a moment when Pep looks like she is going to burst, and then she lets out a stream of laughter. When she finally finishes she looks up and says,

“That’s crazy talk.”

“Is not!” Sal is put on the defense. “I can prove it look.” Sal takes a piece of paper from his pocket. “I stole this from my file in the orphanage. Look right there at the bottom, the signature of the man who signed me in.” Pep looks to spot on the page where Sal is pointing. She can clearly make out the signature of a man named Clark Thompson.

“What does that prove?”

“It proves I’m right and that I’m going to Los Angeles, California to confront Clark Thompson and gain my inheritance.” Sal says with a matter-a-fact voice.

Up until this point, Pep had been critical of his story. “Did you say Los Angeles, California?”

“Sure did.”

“That’s where I’m going! I’m gonna be star on those big silver screens like Mary Pickford!” Pep smiles.

“You? Really?” Sal sounds skeptical.

“Don’t you think I could? I fouled that police officer back on the train?” Pep strains for an answer.

“Why, I guess so.” Sal replies after a second. Pep smiles. The two continue walking.

“Do you think, maybe I could go with you. You know, so the journey won’t be so lonely…” Pep interrupts the silence yet again.

Sal thinks about this for a second. He looks around at the vacant landscape, then back at Pep. “I guess. If you stop talking so much.”

“Great! So how long to Cheyenne?” Pep blurts out. Sal rolls his eyes. The two walk off down the tracks, unknowingly setting off on the greatest adventure of their lives. That is, if they can bear to put up with each other.