A Safe Place for Joey

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Book: A Safe Place for Joey by Mary MacCracken Read Free Book Online
Authors: Mary MacCracken
were intimations from Eric’s play and Mrs. Kroner’s comments that there was something odd about the family configuration. And yet there was a magnetism – I could feel myself being drawn to him almost against my will.
    “What does Mr. Kroner think about all this?” I asked. She shrugged. “He leaves Eric to me. Says he has enough trouble keeping bread on the table. Says the schoolis probably making a fuss over nothing.” Mrs. Kroner sighed. “But I don’t know,” she said. “I got to thinking about Mrs. Tortoni and Frankie, and I got thinking maybe you could help Eric with his schoolwork. You know, help him sound it out. Like I do at night.”
    I looked over at the little boy. He was holding the baby in the palm of his hand, stroking it rhythmically as he rocked back andforth, his eyes closed. It was my turn to sigh. Whatever it was that Eric needed, it was a lot more than sounding it out. Suddenly Eric opened his eyes, and I could see that they were filled with tears, his long dark eyelashes wet and clumped together. Why was he crying silently to himself?
    “Suppose I go over to Eric’s school and talk to his teacher. Miss Selby? Is that her name? Maybe shecan give me some more information about the kind of help Eric needs.”
    “No!” Mrs. Kroner spoke sharply. “I don’t want the school to know I’m here. Then they’ll be even surer there’s something wrong with him. Or else they’ll say it’s the tutor what’s doing the work, not Eric.”
    “Mrs. Kroner, I’m sorry.” And I really was. Despite the hour, despite the obvious problems, there was somethingabout this little boy and his mother that drew me to them, and I was moved by how much she obviously loved her son and how desperately she wanted to help him. Still, I couldn’t work behind a cloud of pretense. I tried to explain. “I can’t work that way. I need your help and Eric’s teacher’s, too. We all have to work together, be a team, if we’re going to help Eric.”
    “What would you say toher?” Mrs. Kroner asked. “I wouldn’t want you talking behind Eric’s back – or mine neither.”
    “I would ask about the kind of things Eric does in school – where he does well and where he has trouble. I would ask about the other children and how he gets along with them.”
    “No,” Mrs. Kroner said again.
    I sighed – half weariness, half exasperation.
    “Then I don’t see how I can…”
    I stopped speaking as something touched my right foot. I looked down and saw that Eric had put the baby in one of the trucks and was crouched beside his mother’s legs, pushing the truck back and forth. The truck had bumped against my shoe. An accident, or was this Eric’s way of asking for help? He was as pale and silent as before, but now he looked steadily up at me and pointed at thetruck. My heart capitulated.
    “What is it, Eric?” I asked, bending down. But the moment was gone. I had lost him. He buried his head back against the couch. But during that one brief instance of eye contact I could feel the intelligence behind those eyes, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I could reach this little boy, I could teach him.
    Mrs. Kroner interrupted my thoughts.“Could you call her instead – his teacher?” she almost whispered. “Instead of going over there?”
    “Yes,” I said. “I guess I could. If you would feel better about that.”
    “If you did call her, would you tell her what I told you? You know – about how I didn’t even really want Eric at first?”
    “No,” I said. “I don’t think there’s any need to talk about that. In fact, I’m not even sureit’s true.”
    I wished Mrs. Kroner had given me permission to visit the school. I could have gathered so much information by observing Eric’s interaction with the other children and his response to his teacher. And I certainly needed all the information I could get, particularly since there was to be no formalized testing. I had compromised because I

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