Free Mad Girls In Love by Michael Lee West Page A

Alice Ann looked alarmed. “It might take a while to find my mama. And you’re low on cash. I looked in your wallet.”
    â€œThat wasn’t nice.” I stifled a yawn, wondering how much the child had guessed.
    Doris strutted over with our drinks and plunked them down. “Y’all just passing through?” she asked.
    â€œYes,” I told her, wondering if I could slip her a note, explaining Alice Ann’s situation. I could wait until the child went to the restroom, then Jennifer and I could dash off.
    â€œWe’re looking for a motel,” said Alice Ann.
    â€œNow let me see.” Doris tapped her pencil against her pad. “There’s a new one over on River Street. Nice but pricey. If you’re saving pennies, then give Mrs. Finch a call. She’s got a boardinghouse on the beach.”
    â€œGoodie,” said Alice Ann, holding up her pale, freckled arm. “I can work on my tan.”
    Doris laughed and walked off.
    â€œIf you want me to be the mother,” I said, leaning across the table, “then you better start acting like the child.”
    â€œI want to find my real mother.” Alice Ann stuck out her tongue.
    Forty-five minutes later we were standing on Mrs. Finch’s front porch. It was a three-story house, towering over us like a wedding cake, white with butter-colored shutters. Shaggy roses were blooming along the steps, and red birds hopped in the ankle-deep grass.
    â€œAre you sure this is it?” Alice Ann said.
    â€œThis is the address Doris gave me.” I rang the ornate brass doorbell and it gonged out the first few bars of “Old Rugged Cross.”
    â€œComing!” said a voice from inside, over the frantic barking of a dog. The door creaked open and a gray-haired lady smiled at us. A small black-and-white dog ran in circles, alternately sniffing and barking.
    â€œYou must be the folks Doris called about,” the woman said, holding open the screen door with her gnarled hand. The little dog jumped up and down, his paws digging into the woman’s purple housedress. “Stop that, Kenny,” she scolded, but he kept on jumping and whining. “Don’t mind him, he’s acting plum crazy. I’m Mrs. Finch. Step right on in, y’all.”
    We walked into a dark hall that smelled of mildew. Kenny turned his wildness on Alice Ann, jumping on her knees. Mrs. Finch led us into a cheerless parlor. All the furniture was covered up with sheets. I sat down on what appeared to be a high-backed Victorian sofa, and a plume of dust curled up around my hips. Kenny scrambled over and laid his head on my knee, giving me a look of pure and utter devotion. He was all black except for a white circle around his right eye. As I petted his hard little head, I felt something inside my chest relax and uncoil.
    Mrs. Finch prowled around the room, lifting the sheets and peering underneath them. The whole time she rattled off a list of things I should know. The rent was $25 a week, but she’d waive the deposit. Gas, water, and lights were included. Meals were not. The bathroom was a communal one, shared by the other boarders, but fortunately there were several other baths in the boardinghouse. All the downstairs rooms, including the large kitchen, could be utilized. While she prattled on, Kenny ran over to Alice Ann and licked her freckled hand.
    â€œWe’ve got a little community college, and I get a fair number of students. Most of them are waiting for an apartment to come available. My last boarder was an art major, and she painted her room deep purple. You’ll be getting her old room.”
    â€œMy cousin had a purple room,” I said, and Alice Ann shot me a coy look.
    â€œIt’s bright, that’s for sure,” said Mrs. Finch.
    The baby in my arms, we walked in silence through the high-ceilinged rooms, with Kenny trotting behind Mrs. Finch. The dining room had scroll wallpaper and a long table with