The Stag Gem: Part 1 Chapter 5

Kings Cross Railway Station, London

 “Final boarding call for all passengers to Glasgow and all points north,” the tinny voice from the intercom announced.

“You’re not going to be missing out on much,” Bradley assured his young protégé as the two stood facing each other on the landing.  Surrounding them were couples, friends, and family members saying their farewells. Lighted advertisements, worn tile floors and wooden benches sat comfortably in the background of the hourly routine of emotional and cathartic departures.

“It’s not too late, Bradley,” Keegan said, “I could run right over to the counter and buy a ticket and still come…”

Bradley put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We already talked about this.  I’m going to need you to hold down the fort while I’m gone.  Taking calls, watching the office, making sure the mail doesn’t pile up, keeping Madame Ogra company…”

Keegan handed the detective his bag.  “And the next case we get…”

“Yes, I promise this time, I’ll take you along,” Bradley smiled gently.  “This one is just a little too complicated to be your first one.”  Bradley slung his bag over his shoulder.

Keegan handed the detective his fedora and Bradley slipped it onto his uncombed blonde hair and pulled it down tight around his head.  “Here’s a little spending money while I’m gone.  Hopefully it’s enough to keep you out of trouble for a few days,” He handed Keegan a white envelope.

“Or keep me in trouble for a few days,” Keegan joked.

“Let’s hope not,” Bradley messed up the boy’s hair. 

“All aboard!” The conductor in a neatly pressed blue uniform shouted from one of the train car’s metal steps.

“Get out of here.  You’re going to miss your ride,” Keegan said.

“Right.”  Bradley started frantically feeling all over his trench coat.

“Inside left pocket,” Keegan responded.

Bradley felt inside his jacket and pulled out his train ticket.  “Thanks.”

Keegan smiled in response.

 “I’m going to call the office everyday, to make sure you haven’t burnt it down,” Bradley yelled back as he ran towards the train steps.

Keegan waved back to his mentor as he saw him jump onto the train and walk into the train car. 

The boy watched the detective through the train windows walk down the aisle and find a seat next to the window.  He looked back and waved to Keegan once more.

The train began to huff into a slow start.  The boy watched Bradley’s car gradually move out of site and into the tunnel.  Car after car in the long chain of passenger cabins moved past the landing; people from the train waved out the windows, yelling their final goodbyes to those who returned the farewells from the station.

  Keegan took a quick glance down the tracks to see how many cars still have yet to pass by.  Noticing that there were only a precious few cars left, he ran to a gray trashcan that sat next to a nearby bench.  He frantically reached in past the paper cups and crumpled daily newspapers and pulled out his backpack that he conveniently placed there earlier in the morning.

As the train began to pick up speed and the last few cars traveled past the landing, Keegan raced through the crowded station, weaving and bumping past daily commuters, haggard travelers, and anxious tourists. 

“Hey, watch it, Kid!”

“Slow down!”

“This isn’t a playground!” various shouting and barking aimed towards him fell onto his preoccupied ears as he concentrated on desperately trying to catch the train. 

As the final car disappeared into the tunnel, Keegan jumped off the landing and crashed clumsily onto the final car’s metal steps as he disappeared with it into the darkly lit tunnel.

Keegan picked himself up and brushed off his pants.  “All in a days work for an amateur detective,” he muttered to himself confidently.

Once the fear and excitement of jumping onto a moving train had subsided, he opened the rear door.  The hum and gentle clacking of the tracks rocked the car as he scanned the car for Bradley.  Logic dictated that his mentor was seated at least a dozen cars ahead, but he wanted to make sure.  This last one was fairly empty with a handful of people sitting in their places reading, talking on cell phones, or patiently looking out the windows.

The boy found the first available seat and sat down next to the window.  Once he got himself comfortable, he opened up his old and worn backpack.  Rummaging past through the standard ‘boy detective’ supplies: spray paint, string, jack knife, water pistol, and fire crackers, he pulled out his favorite old and worn comic book: ‘The Barnyard Crusaders’.

“Your ticket, please.”  The Conductor looked down at Keegan.

“Certainly.”  The boy fumbled around his back pocket and pulled out the ticket he bought earlier in the morning and the conductor promptly punched a hole into it, smiled and continued on down the car, leaving Keegan to his reading.

Twelve cars down, Bradley reclined in his chair, placed his hat over his eyes and let the gentle rocking of the train lull him asleep.