Free Taking Care of Moses by Barbara O'Connor

hair. “I got to go,” he said.

    â€œCan I go, too?”
    Mr. Avery opened the front door and said, “Sure,” as he started up the basement steps.
    â€œMr. Avery,” Randall called after him.
    Mr. Avery stopped and turned back to look at Randall.
    â€œI wouldn’t ever tell anybody about Queenie wandering off, okay?” Randall said.
    Mr. Avery nodded. “You’re a good boy, Randall,” he said.
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    When Queenie saw them, she grinned and waved.
    â€œHey, mister,” she called out.
    Randall had never seen Mr. Avery move so fast. By the time they caught up to Queenie, he was breathing loud and wheezy. One hand clutched his heart, and Randall thought for sure something terrible was about to happen.
    Mr. Avery hugged Queenie, and she said, “I have to get my hair done. I’m late.”
    â€œFor crying out loud, Queenie,” Mr. Avery said. “You trying to scare me into the grave?”
    Queenie’s grin dropped. “Where’s my purse?”
    â€œAt home,” Mr. Avery said. “Let’s go get it.”
    â€œLavonia better go get that box,” Queenie said. “Don’t you think so, Monroe?” She cocked her head at Randall.

    Randall shrugged. “I don’t know, Queenie.”
    â€œLavonia don’t live out here no more,” Mr. Avery said. He took Queenie’s hand and coaxed her to start walking. “She took all them young-uns of hers and moved way out on Forest Avenue. Shoot, she may not even live in Foley anymore.”
    Queenie nodded so hard her wispy hair bounced on top of her head. “She does.”
    Mr. Avery looked at Randall and rolled his eyes. “Okay, Queenie,” he said. “Let’s go home and get your purse.”
    â€œMy purse!” Queenie hollered. Then she took off so fast Mr. Avery and Randall had to scurry to keep up with her.
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    That night after supper, Randall got out his sketchbook. He turned to a blank page and began to draw. First he drew a box. Next he drew a church steeple, a fist, a straw hat, and a purse.
    Then he used a black marker to draw a line from one object to the next, until they were all connected. He sat back and looked at the drawing. It looked just like a web. A giant spiderweb with all that stuff tangled up inside it. But something was missing. Something that Randall knew was important to the web.
    He picked up his pencil and drew himself—right in the middle of the spiderweb.

    Then he tore the page out, folded it up, and pushed it way down under his socks with the other drawings.
    He turned out the lights and said his prayers. For the umpteenth time, he asked for grits and gumption.
    â€œI need it for sure by tomorrow,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom. “’Cause tomorrow I’m doing something to fix this mess.”

14
    In the far corner of the Mackeys’ garage, Randall’s father had an office. At least, he called it an office. Actually, the only thing there was a teetering card table piled with moldy cardboard boxes bulging with papers. Under the card table was a metal file cabinet.
    When Randall was little, he used to look through the file cabinet. It was crammed with letters, old calendars, Christmas cards, and boring magazines with titles like Insurance Today .
    Randall was pretty sure he remembered something else that used to be in the file cabinet. A map of Foley.
    He looked behind him to make sure his mother was still inside. Then he stepped over paint cans and garden tools and made his way to his father’s office. He pushed a cracked flowerpot out of the way and opened the file cabinet.
    He searched through the jumble of papers in the
drawer. Sure enough, he found it. “Your complimentary map of Foley, South Carolina, from your friends at Nelson’s Brake and Tire Company.”
    Randall opened the map and smoothed it out on the garage floor. He figured he could probably find