Off the Rails - 1. Chapter 1

The Journal of Tom Callahan,

July 22^nd, 1890

I don’t know how to convey this fantastical journey beyond this journal. Some folks would think I had gone mad and have taken me to one of the hospitals for unnatural thoughts, where they might cut out a piece of my brain for study or something like that. However, it all happened, and I have many eyewitnesses, who had experienced something similar. Of course, the adults would deny what they experienced, especially the men, who prayed to God for deliverance or a secret return to that sinful situation. The women in contrast were stupefied with hysteria at the sights they witnessed from the men. Even among the youths of my age, only a handful would openly speak about what we saw or experienced amongst ourselves. Even in private, none of us could describe our experiences without blushing furiously and showing signs of our indecent memories. Even now, I can still recall the wetness on my…

Dang it, it happened again when I remembered. Guess, I'll need to find Jerry to handle my needs. He lives in my room, but I’m trying to build a cabin for him to live in, so my relatives don’t get wise about what we’re doing. Disgracefully, my first attempts to construct a cabin looked more like a barn, since I wanted to do it with my strength. Upon seeing my failure, Jerry patted me on the head in consolation, then smacked my buttocks. I lunged at him for the surprise attack, which resulted in me failing to wrestle him to the ground and my face landing in plaster. That was just how our relationship was.

Jerry is my age, though he appears a few years younger with his skinny and short body. Sadly, his lack of development was a result of being forced out of his home and living rough, including hitching rides on rail cars. Jerry had to be used to much less than me, lord knows how hard it was to get him used to sleeping a full night without being awoken by the sound of crickets. I know his many skills and quirks were probably gained from harsh experiences, so I never force him to do anything he doesn’t want. I care about his needs, just like he cares about me. If it came to a choice between living in shame or without Jerry, I’d choose the shame any day.

Dang it, I am jumping too far ahead. Maybe, I should explain what happened to cause all of this and how Jerry came to settle at my family farm. My last entry in my journal was about two months ago. As I mentioned in May, my family was going across the country by rail. We were taking a local railroad from Columbus to Chicago, then we were taking the train from Chicago to Omaha. Finally, the Overland Flyer railroad line would be taken from Omaha to my uncle’s home in San Francisco. According to the papers, the trip from our small town in Ohio would take just a week, with meals and all the comforts of home—a modern marvel compared to the old stagecoaches. As I wrote in this journal, I was excited to go across the continent and fulfill my manifest destiny as some preacher’s sermon said. I imagined seeing herds of wild buffalo, spotting bears fishing by riverbeds, and maybe seeing some naked injuns with bows and arrows hunting both. The idea of seeing some savage boys and men with no shame in the primal masculine acts of hunting began filling my dreams when I first read James Cooper’s Deer Slayer. I imagine myself as Natty Bumpoo fighting alongside warrior Mohican blood brother, Chingachgook. The West was even more vast than New York and the Great Lakes with far more tribes and undiscovered wonders. It was a place of dreams for a fourteen-year-old boy like me.

Sadly, the first few days of the trip were a bore of rural towns and empty prairies until we reached Chicago. We ate salted beef, potato stew, and bread for breakfast and dinner, which, despite the copious salt, tasted bland. I wasn’t allowed to enter the smoking car with my father, and I was smacked in the back of the head for sneaking a sip of whiskey by a steward. I had already exhausted the five books I brought with me as my pa wouldn’t allow me to stuff my bags with books instead proper change of clothing, so I had nothing to read. The old Bible that my ma carried was read until tears started flowing down my face. Chicago provided a brief respite with its numerous restaurants and bustling hawkers offering quick bites for a few pennies to transiting passengers. I got myself a molasses-covered candy drop from my snow-clearing money that I earned for digging out a path for our neighbors. My ma admonished me for ruining my appetite for the fine dinner planned. My parents had reserved a table at the Grand Pacific Hotel, even though we were slated to leave on an evening train bound for Omaha. I did not understand why we must eat at such an upscale establishment. We are middling farmers from Ohio with the most milk cows in our county being our only claim to fame. However, I never questioned my parents’ choices, so I dutifully washed up in the restrooms and changed into my second-best shirt and suit for church. The foods were all listed in French for some reason, with names like filet de boeuf, aspic de foie gras, and gelée aux apricots, but they tasted good. Then, we were off on the second leg of our three-legged journey.

The trip to Omaha was short and uneventful since I slept until we arrived in the morning. My impression of Nebraska was that it was flat and grassy. Nothing was distinguishing about the station, except a brick building serving as the local water stop, a railroad eatery by any other name. Going from upscale French cuisine to flapjacks and sausage links, felt strange, especially at 6 AM. My ma bought several sandwiches that the water stop offered at a reasonable price, arguing with my pa that it was better to get these sandwiches for the ride than wait until the next stop. As a result, I carried a sack of twenty-four sandwiches of various dried meats and cheeses onto our final train to San Francisco. In addition to the sandwiches, I was able to get an old paperback copy of Jules Verne’s Around the World in Eighty Days from the water stop’s small store. I haggled due to its relative age to pay only a dime, along with some candy, marbles, and a set of dice with faded markings. I had earned five dollars and forty-five cents during the winter, but I only brought two dollars and twenty cents with me for the trip. Even though I was frugal, I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of frivolous spending, at least not the ones I desired, so I packed them within the sandwich sack.

As was customary for entering a new train, my family walked around the various cars to familiarize ourselves with the compartments. During our exploration, I spotted Jerry tailing behind us like a little mouse. We all looked similar enough to be mistaken for a family with our brown hair and floppy ears. When I tried to approach him in greeting though, he walked away in the opposing direction. I didn’t pay any heed to him at that point, and I followed my parents as they explored the train. We unloaded our baggage to our assigned sleeper car, where our berth beds were located. Though these were comfortable, the Pullman company should consider changing the color schemes of their train cars from green to a lighter color in my opinion. After a few whistles, the train began to move, and I was ready to settle into my seat with the book I purchased. However, something nagged at me after seeing a mysterious boy run away. Was I too confrontational, or could he have an elaborate backstory like a foreign prince touring America secretly? I had to pursue him for answers.

While hunting for Jerry, I met a few other boys around our age. Thad and Chad were well-dressed sixteen-year-old twins heading to Utah to begin training for some sort of religious mission. I didn’t understand half of what they were saying about God and revelations, nor why they call Utah the State of Deseret. They were queer people, but they weren’t malicious. In another Pullman car, I met another fourteen-year-old named Calvin, who preferred to be called “Colt” for the revolver that he wore around his holster belt. He was originally from Maryland, but his parents sent him out west to live with his uncle’s family due to stealing some money from a church donation box. He claimed the money was going to be used for booze and whores by the priest. My first impression of Colt was that he looked like the papers’ description of Jesse James, he did what he thought was right and gave no mind to what others thought of him. Near the rear of the train, where the oldest cars were located with the most seats, I saw my query with a negro boy reading Jules Vernes’ first classic From the Earth to the Moon. I rarely spoke to negros and never up to that point discussed books with them. My schoolteachers and all the books said that negros were inferior to white folk, most of them can’t read or write more than their names. It wasn’t their fault that they didn’t gain God’s grace as we did in making railroads, steam engines, and rifles. That’s what I knew to be true until I met Moses, a thirteen-year-old negro boy from Hartford, Connecticut.

When I approached the pair, Jerry tensed at seeing me, while Moses was quizzically staring at Jerry and me. He asked if I was his older brother coming to fetch him and apologized for any impropriety that might have resulted. I introduced myself and explained that he was not my brother, but I had seen him earlier and didn’t get a chance to greet him. Moses introduced himself to me. Jerry took the opportunity of our introductions to leave the rear car. I was perplexed by this boy's skittish behavior around me. He seemed to be fine around a negro, why was I less approachable than a negro. I know it’s unfair to Moses and his ilk, but it’s what was racing through my mind as I ungracefully disengaged from Moses and chased after Jerry, who had still not given me his name or reason for being afraid of me.

As I went back forward, I ran into my parents, who ended my chase for lunch at the upcoming stop at Hastings, Nebraska. I thought that I might see the strange boy get off the train with his parents or spot him in the dining car since the train would be stopping for an hour to allow people to have a proper lunch. We had bought our sandwiches from Omaha in the morning and my parents were planning to have a little picnic near the railway station. There was free water from a nearby well and my mother had brought kettles and bags of sugar for brewing sweet tea. I saw Thad, Chad, Colt, and even Moses off to the side of the grounds with his people, but the mysterious boy was nowhere to be seen. I knew the wealthy families could afford to eat in the dining car with meals of roast beef, chicken, and mashed potatoes along with fresh pies that we could all smell being baked. However, after encountering Jerry twice, I did not think he was wealthy based on the look of his clothing. His shirt, pants, and shoes looked fine initially, but they were a few sizes too big for him like they were not tailored or fitted to his body. His hair was short, but it looked like the barber had not honed his craft, leaving uneven sections. Overall, he gave the feeling of someone not in their right element. I ate a sandwich and drank some sweet tea considering these facts. I pocketed my second allotted sandwich and grabbed a cup of tea, then told my parents that I needed to head back on the train as I forgot to put away my book on my seat. I went back on the train, and it took no time at all with the depleted train to find Jerry, who was soundly sleeping on a seat that I remembered was empty in my earlier explorations of the train. I wanted to ask him a lot of questions, but I didn’t want to scare him away again. So I laid a sandwich on his lap, which woke him up instantly. He stared at me, then at the sandwich on his lap. He understood the meaning of my action, and then ravenously consumed the cured ham with raspberry preserves. After he was finished with the sandwich, I handed him the cup of sweet tea, which had cooled and sweetened in equal measure by then. He greedily drank my tea as well, then stared up at me.

I will never forget what he said next to me, “I can finish you off with my mouth or hand for the sandwich and sweet tea if you want.”

Being naïve and ignorant, I did not understand what he meant. I was interested in his story and friendship at that point.

I stupidly answered, “No thanks are needed. My name is Tom Callahan. I’m fourteen and heading to San Francisco with my parents. How about you?”

Jerry handed me my cup and stared at me with a smile, “My name is Jeremiah, but call me Jerry,” he kissed me on the lips. I could still taste hints of the sweet tea in his mouth, but there was also an earthy aroma that could be tasted. The aroma was slightly unpleasant at first, but the sweetness from the tea and his tongue pressed against mine quickly changed everything. It ended in under a minute, then he struck me with his hand, shoved me towards another berth, and ran away again. The sting of his slap was warm and pleasant, despite the pain. That was my first kiss and it had been with another boy, something I had never thought was a realistic possibility or imagined. I was dazed at the possibilities that such a revelation could usher in for me, pleasant dreams of male friends and second cousins bubbled in my mind in exotic positions and stages of undress.

If my trip had merely been all the actions that led to that one kiss with Jerry, it would have been enough for me. We crossed over to Colorado near dusk and were fast approaching the Rocky Mountains. It was quite a sight to see from our windows, but I was still focused on Jerry’s kiss and the revelations that stemmed from it. We entered several tunnels that were dug out of the mountains for the railroad crossing. They were dark and foreboding places that should never have existed without the hand of man. Within one of these tunnels, the train suddenly stopped with a violent jolt that sent everyone off their seats and feet. My revelry ended at this point as a brilliant flash of light engulfed the car. People began to scream that it was a fire, but it was too bright to be a fire. No, it looked like the concentrated light from the sun. The flash of light disappeared within a few seconds and the scenery had changed completely. No longer were we surrounded by the darkness of a Rocky Mountain tunnel, instead the train was in the middle of a green meadow.

A voice began to ring in my head, along with others, announcing our arrival.

“Welcome to Sod, you have been selected to participate in the World Challenge. Please choose your stats allocation. If no points are allocated, then points will be lost. Job Classes, Talents, and Abilities will be randomly applied to all participants. New subclasses, stat points, talents, and abilities can be gained based on experience. If you should perish in the world challenge of Sod, fear not, you will be returned to your original world near the point of departure and within moments of your timeline. No participant shall age or suffer from natural illnesses, while you remain in Sod. However, the biological functions of hunger, thirst, and normal bodily processes will still occur as natural until your death or victory in this competition. In the case of a single participant’s victory, you will be granted access to all classes, stats, abilities, and skills obtained during the competition in your original world. In the case of more than one champion, group victory conditions will occur, but the victory condition will limit each group member to one enhancement of stats, job class, talents, and ability upon return to your origin point. Assessment of victory conditions will be completed at the final trial by the World System. The tutorial period for new participants will end in the next 300 solar seconds relative to your world, please prepare for the start of the challenge.”

Based on the words of the disembodied voice, we had five minutes before some kind of competition began. If it was honest with everyone, the competition would provide a boon to whoever won.

At that point, a floating piece of transparent paper appeared before my eyes with the following:

Choose stat allocation:

10 points to allocate

ATT: 1

DEF: 1

HON: 1

AGL: 1

INT: 1

HP: 1

During these events, a man sitting in a nearby seat, a preacher based on his dress and demeanor, declared loudly:

“Oh Lord! It is the day of judgment. We have been brought before you to prove our worth. Your kingdom comes, your will be done. We shall answer your angel’s call and vanquish heathens that stand before us. Let us balance the allocations that God has given us in equal measure.”

At those words, a chorus of “Amen” and “By His Grace” could be heard in our car. The man turned out to be Reverend Kenneth Lansing, a middle-aged preacher from Kansas who was also a Granger organizer for the Farmers’ Alliance. I had read in the papers that they were hosting some kind of conference in St. Louis back in December. My pa was a huge fan of their movement, and he identified the preacher to support the man’s authority. I didn’t quite understand all the stuff my pa supported like free postal service for farmers, lower freight costs on railroads, and a silver standard instead of gold. Politics didn’t interest me, it looked like a game to me with President Grover Cleveland and President Benjamin Harrison taking turns.

While men went outside the train and gathered everyone to coalesce around the Reverend Lansing, I spotted Jerry crouching towards the back of the crowds. He made eye contact with me, then made a hand gesture for me to join him. My pa and ma were busy endearing themselves to the Reverend, so they didn’t notice me walking over to Jerry. However, unbeknownst to me, several other boys did notice my movement away from the Reverend’s gathering circle. Thad, Chad, Colt, and Moses were forming another circle around me and Jerry outside the Reverend’s sphere.

Jerry asked me, “Have you allocated your points yet?”

I shook my head to state no and saw that the floating sheet of transparent paper timer was down to 112 seconds.

Jerry noticed the other boys gathering around him as well, then froze.

Colt was the first to speak, “That preacher is full of it. I bet you know more than him. Spill it!”

I noticed Colt’s hand was inches from his revolver in a threatening gesture, which reminded me just how dangerous he was. My pa had a Smith and Wesson revolver stowed away in our bags, which was normal for anyone traveling through the western frontiers. Guns protect people from beast and man alike out on the frontier, so I was taught what position a hand would go before shooting. It is no idle boast to say Colt would likely have put a gun to Jerry’s head and made the situation worse for all of us. At that moment, I wished I had my Wesson rimfire single-shot hunting rifle with me. Even though, it would not have offered much power compared to a revolver.

Before anyone could blink, Jerry reached over and grabbed the gun out of Colt’s holster before he could do anything. It was inhumanly fast. Colt was befuddled by the act and Jerry smirked. Colt ran towards Jerry but failed to retrieve his gun.

At some point, the timer had reached 11 seconds, and Colt was still unable to hold down Jerry. Jerry looked over at me and said, “Put all your points into one of them, now.”

I did as I was told and told my screen to put all my points into the ATT line item, which changed the value to 11. The other boys appeared to do the same, including Colt, screaming out their commands. The adults all had listened to Reverend Lansing and placed their lots into balanced allocations. However, each of us chose different line items to put everything towards after recognizing that Jerry’s newfound speed was one of the benefits.

As such, this was what we chose:

Moses: INT

Thad: DEF

Chad: HP

Colt: HON

Myself: ATT

Within moments of our choices, the disembodied voice spoke to me.

“Job Class: Berserker, Talent: Tenacity, and Ability: Beyond Limits have been applied.”

At the same moment, a roar could be heard around us as a group of naked, green-skinned men with pointed ears appeared. They were armed with cudgels and appeared to be salivating at us.

The voice continued speaking:

“Scenario 1 has begun, a lascivious goblin tribe seeks mates. Defeat or avoid the goblins. If you fail and become their lover, you will die and lose. Note for participants: Goblin reproduction requires injecting pre-fertilized eggs into other species without regard for gender or orientation. Their offspring will consume the host body and kill it in the most agonizing process.”

I saw Jerry handing Colt his gun back, then turned towards me, “I got the job of being a scout because I put all the stats into AGL. I don’t think I can fight, so I’ll run.”

A strange energy was coursing through my body, I instinctively picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at the charging goblins heading in our direction. The rock pierced through a column of goblins around ten deep.

I tried to assuage Jerry, “I chose ATT and became a berserker. I think I got really strong and can fight these goblins. You should stay.”

The negro boy Moses shook his head, “I chose INT and I became a Mage, I don’t know what that means, but I feel a weird energy around me and strange lines of words are floating in my head. I don’t think I am meant to fight directly. Though…” he spoke in a few clicks and snorts and a fireball flew into the goblin army, “I think I can help.”

Thad added, “I became a shield-bearing tank and got stronger as well. I want to help if we’re fighting.”

Chad frowned at his twin, “I became a cleric and I think I can people’s injuries.”

Colt was the last of us to speak or reveal anything, “I became a paladin and I ain’t running away from these green bastards.”

As such, five of us chose to stay and fight the goblins with our newfound jobs, talents, and abilities. However, we were swiftly defeated when we valiantly charged the goblins. We had not noticed a grey-skinned creature that emerged after we displayed our powers. The grey creature stared at us and spoke.

“I am Ogre King, Okra. You will pay for your insolence challengers. I will personally make you my playthings before allowing my offspring to consume you. You will cease movement and resistance, now.”

With some unknown magic in his words, all of us were frozen in place as goblins encircled us. It felt like my body was encased in stone, but I fought through it. I was able to move my arms and legs slightly, but I was crawling rather than walking. Knowing I could not evade them, I dug marbles out of my pocket and tossed them violently at an approaching goblin, striking him through his head. For the next ten minutes, I used the marbles that I bought in Omaha as projectiles to take out goblins. However, I was unable to stop them from taking the other four boys. Also, they appeared to be adapting to my barrages with more advanced tactics such as spreading their formation rather than the earlier frontal attacks. I couldn’t hold out any longer I even threw out the old dice at them.

Just as I thought all was lost and I’d have to endure the agonizing death mentioned by the disembodied voice, I heard a whisper from beside me.

“Hold on, I’m going to drag you away from the approaching goblins. I found a forest near a lake a few miles away that should be good shelter for us.”

I turned my head to empty air, but before I could ask how Jerry became invisible, I was dragged across the green meadows by an invisible arm hooked around my waist. We didn’t start at a running pace, but our speed kept building until we were traveling as fast as a steam-powered train. Eventually, we reached the outskirts of a forest, near a lake.

Jerry reappeared, sweating profusely, and pointed at me, “You were an idiot for trying to play hero when you don’t understand what you were up against.”

I looked at him dumbstruck, “Why didn’t you tell us you could turn invisible?”

He frowned, “Being invisible doesn’t change the fact that I am not a fighter. I can only hide and run. Besides, why didn’t you tell everyone that you were immune to magic? I saw you throwing marbles when everyone else was frozen solid.”

I tried to move my legs and arms, which no longer felt like they were encased in stone, I sighed, “I couldn’t run away. I think marble throwing was part of my ability to go beyond limits.”

He smacked my ass, “See, don’t blame me for not saying something when you didn’t.”

We argued back and forth between foraging and hunting for food. I didn’t know at that time, but it was the start of our adventure in the fantastical world of Sod.