Run

“I ain’t watched the derby in years,” Bo said.

“Really?” I started making my way back to my bed. “I watch every year. The whole family does. But I think Mama watches more to see all the hats the ladies are wearing in the audience. She don’t care as much about the horses as Daddy and I do.”

“Well, we can go anywhere you want,” Bo said. “How far’s Mammoth Cave?”

“I don’t know.” I climbed into bed, but I left the covers off. It was too hot, and even though Daddy had finally agreed to turn on the air-conditioning early, he kept it real low. “I’ve never been.”

“I ain’t, either. There was that school trip back in seventh grade, but Mama couldn’t afford it.”

“And my parents worried I’d get lost in the cave.”

“They really say that?”

“Sorta. They just kept telling me how dark it was and how hard it would be for me to keep up with everyone else.”

Bo thought about this for a moment. “Well, we oughta go. Even if it’s not real close. Ain’t no way I’ll let you get lost down there.”

I smiled. “Okay,” I said. “We’ll go to Mammoth Cave, then. And you ought to ask Colt if there’s other stuff we should do while we’re headed that way. Make the most of the trip, you know?”

“I’ll call him this weekend,” she said.

“Great,” I said. “Then we can make a schedule and get all the details lined up. And then I can talk to my parents and …” I was grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. “Are we really doing this?”

“Sure seems like it,” she said.

I giggled and squealed quietly. “This is gonna be great. The best summer ever.”

“We just gotta come up with something better next year,” Bo said.

She turned on the TV, the way she always did before we fell asleep, and found a rerun of Bewitched before turning it down just a little, just enough to hear the voices of Samantha and Darrin as they disagreed about how much magic Sam ought to be using around the house.

I dreamed Bo and I were walking down a dark path in a cave somewhere. Bo was holding my hand, leading the way as she held a lantern up for light. But when we reached the end of the path, we found a dead end. And when we turned back, the way we came was blocked.

As usual, when I woke up the next morning, Bo was already gone.





They let me sleep on the couch, with an old quilt and a flat pillow Vera pulls out of a closet.

She don’t say a word to me as she hands them over. But I say, “Thank you, ma’am,” anyway. If this woman’s gonna be my stepmother, I oughta be polite.

“See you in the morning,” Daddy says.

“Good night.”

They head off to their bedroom, and I set up camp on the couch. I lie there for a while, tossing and turning. I keep thinking of Agnes. Wondering how long she’ll be waiting in the gas station for her parents. Wondering what she’ll tell them about me. About the way I left her. I decide I’ll call her tomorrow. And maybe, in a few weeks, she can come here. Once being mad wears off, she’ll be happy for me.

I hope.

But I can’t get all the things she said in that parking lot out of my head. Plus, the TV across the room is turned off, and I ain’t sure if Daddy or Vera will be mad if I turn it on. So, in the silence, it’s impossible to sleep.

I get up to look for the bathroom. I forgot to ask where it’s at, but this house ain’t real big. I head down the hallway, trying to be quiet so I don’t wake up Daddy and Vera. But I find out pretty quick that they ain’t sleeping yet.

“What am I supposed to say to her?”

Daddy’s voice. Coming from behind the closed bedroom door. I don’t wanna eavesdrop. Not the best foot to start off on. So I’m about to keep walking when I hear Vera, too.

“That ain’t my problem, Wayne,” she says. “I don’t care what you gotta say—she ain’t staying here.”

I freeze, my heart sinking down, down into my stomach.

“Vera—”

“I don’t want her around Brent.”

“She ain’t gonna hurt Brent. She’s a good kid.”

“How do you know?” Vera demands. “You ain’t seen her in years. You didn’t even tell me about her. The hell is wrong with you, Wayne?”

Daddy sighs. “I thought her mama was taking care of it.”

It.

Not her. Not my daughter.

It.

“Well, she ain’t. And neither am I, Wayne. This is my house. I pay the bills. I’ve been letting you freeload off me for six years. I ain’t taking in nobody else.”

I wait. Wait for him to stand up for me. Wait for him to say I’m his kid. Wait through the long space of quiet for him to be my dad. Just like I’ve been waiting for years.

But it sounds like I’m gonna have to keep waiting.

“All right,” he says, sounding defeated. Not defeated enough, though. “I’ll do it in the morning. I’ll get rid of her.”



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