Free Song of the Road by Dorothy Garlock Page B

with.”
    “I could file charges saying he’s wrecked one of the cabins. He has. It’s filthy.”
    “Has he broken any windows?”
    “No.”
    “Well, tell Jake to be careful. I’d hate like hell to have to take him in. If you have any trouble, call me.”
    “I don’t have a phone, Sheriff. But I have a boy helping me. He can run up to the telephone office.”
    Mary Lee’s shoulders slumped as she watched the sheriff drive away. She couldn’t get rid of Frank Pierce, but she had set the sheriff straight on Jake’s involvement. Lord, she’d hate it if he had to go back to prison because of her.
    It was late in the afternoon when Eli proudly showed her the coaster wagon. He had nailed a board across the front and attached the wagon tongue. Mary Lee made a big to-do about how handy he was, then asked him to go to Mr. Santez’s gas station and get a box.
    She washed, combed her hair, put on one of her daddy’s clean shirts and sat on the front steps. Her mind wandered as she watched the cars go by on the highway, listened to the sound of the rubber tires meeting the concrete and the purr of passing engines. Route 66, the Mother Road, was carrying thousands of families fleeing the dust bowls of Oklahoma and the arid lands of Kansas and Texas westward to the fertile fields of California.
    Had things been different, Mary Lee would have reveled in the adventure of traveling the road through the wind-blown plains, deep forests and high mountain passes. But her place was here, beside the road, watching those who passed by and wishing them Godspeed.
    Eli returned with a cardboard box in the wagon bed. She followed him around to the back of the house.
    “Mr. Santez said you hadn’t ought to be liftin’ heavy stuff. Said it would be hard on ya when your baby came.”
    “He’s a nice man.” Mary Lee couldn’t get used to speaking so frankly about her condition to men and boys, but Eli evidently thought nothing about it.
    “I’ll carry the box to your room.”
    “Thanks. Oh, there’s a car turning in. If they take the cabin, we’ll be full up.” Mary Lee hurried to greet the man stepping out of the car.
    It wasn’t until the four cabins were rented and the light turned off over the No Vacancy sign that Mary Lee had time to open the box from Rosa Santez. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she lifted out baby gowns, bands, booties, and several small flannel blankets. There were three maternity dresses with drawstrings at the waist, and a nice skirt with matching overblouse. Everything was here that she would need for the baby for the first few months.
    Mary Lee opened the bottom drawer of her chest to put away the baby clothes and saw the strap on her handbag sticking out from the drawer above. A premonition caused her heart to sink even before she opened the purse to check her money.
    The ten dollars she had tucked away for the baby was gone.
It hurt dreadfully to lose the money, but it hurt even more knowing who had taken it. She stood for a long moment, holding her purse to her chest. How could her own mother do this to her? She fought back the storm of tears that threatened to sweep over her.
She could not break down. She could not let go.
The words repeated themselves over and over in her mind. She had to cope. There was no one to help her. She thanked the Lord she had locked the rent money in her suitcase.
    Hurt gave way to anger. She went through the bathroom to her mother’s room, but the door wouldn’t open; something was wedged against it. The door going into the bedroom from the living room was locked. Mary Lee hurried out the back to where Eli sat on the step of the washhouse.
    “Eli, have you seen my mother?”
    “She left before I went to get the box.”
    “Did she go to town?”
    “She went that way.”
    Mary Lee was not only angry, she was heartsick. She had no doubt that the ten dollars she had saved for her baby would be spent on booze at one of the dives in town. Dolly would be the big