the smuggler’s bible


Ethan meets Dearly on the corner, and she takes his hand to lead him among the alleys to a spot where the tracks sweep through a dip near a concrete retaining wall. They perch together, twenty feet up, listening to the rattle-whine of the engine.

“We’ll jump on three,” Dearly says.

“Whose count?”

She shrugs. It’s too loud now to hear anything but the train. She turns, mouths the words one, two, then turns again.

Ethan gathers his legs underneath him and waits for three. He feels it in the pulse of her palm, still held tight against his own.