Free Middle of Nowhere by Caroline Adderson Page A

“I got kids in here.”
    â€œGet out here, Georgina,” the man roared.
    â€œYou’ll be sorry if I open up this door!”
    â€œDon’t open the door!” Artie wailed.
    â€œMrs. Burt!” I said. “Get back!”
    She did not. She undid the chain. When she threw the door open, she had to lean into the frame for support while her other hand shoved the walker out.
    There was a very drunk man outside swaying all over the place. I knew he was drunk because of Gerry. Sometimes Gerry had to pee in the bathtub because he couldn’t hit the toilet when he was swaying so much. That was how drunk this man looked. Gerry-drunk.
    Mrs. Burt wasn’t that much steadier. She took a wobbly step forward and knocked the walker against his legs.
    He stumbled back.
    â€œWhere’s Georgina?” he slurred.
    â€œI told you, she isn’t here. Now leave us alone. I got a couple of kids with me. We don’t like your bad language.”
    He rubbed his eyes and looked at her, all confused — Mrs. Burt in her nightie with her dandelion hair, just the walker between them. Artie was bawling by then.
    When I appeared in the doorway, the man looked from Mrs. Burt to me and hiccuped.
    â€œExcuse me, ma’am. I got the wrong room.”
    â€œYou sure do,” said Mrs. Burt.
    â€œI apologize.”
    â€œI should hope so.”
    I closed the door and put the chain on again and offered my arm so Mrs. Burt could get back to bed a little quicker. Between calling out to Artie, “There, there. That bad man went away and Mrs. Burt is here. Nobody got hurt. You’re safe with Mrs. Burt,” she was chuckling to herself.
    â€œI want my mom,” Artie cried.
    Mrs. Burt sat on our bed. “Of course you do.”
    I got the lotion from the pillowcase, and Mrs. Burt watched me dry Artie’s face with the sheet and smooth it on.

    THE NEXT MORNING at breakfast Artie stayed tight against Mrs. Burt in the restaurant booth. Mrs. Burt told us she’d been so excited after chasing Georgina’s boyfriend away that she couldn’t stop shaking. She thought the vibrator bed had turned back on.
    â€œDo you see, boys? I don’t take guff from anybody. I don’t care how big and strong they are.” She slurped her tea. “I know how to handle men, especially. The bigger and stronger the better. You should have seen me cooking in those camps. I was the only woman mulligan mixer. The only woman for a hundred miles.”
    But I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about how to let Mom know we’d gone.
    There were only two things I could do: write and phone. I knew that on a scale of one to ten her answering the phone this morning would be about a one, but I had to try. Because when we were back together again — me and Mom and Artie — I wanted to be able to say to her that I’d done everything I could.
    â€œMrs. Burt? Could I borrow some money?”
    â€œSure,” she said, opening her purse and sliding ten dollars across the table to me. Then, since the purse was already open in her lap, she dumped in all the jams from the rack.
    â€œGet some snacks for the road,” she said.
    â€œI’m getting change for the phone,” I said.
    Her face fell so hard it almost hit the table. She grabbed my hand.
    â€œIf somebody else answers, hang up. Okay, Curtis? Hang up.” And from how her fingers dug in, she put fear in me.
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    At the cash register I changed the ten for quarters. Then I went to the lobby where the pay phone was. The number was long distance. A little message popped up telling me how much money to put in.
    As the phone started to ring, the hope in me started to rise. It rang and rang and rang. Then all of the quarters jangled down into the coin return slot and the ringing stopped.

    WE DROVE THROUGH the town and out into the scrubby hills. Mrs. Burt said we were still heading north. In the back