Free Greetings from Nowhere by Barbara O'Connor

and peanut butter for three days, Virgil!” she hollered. “I feel like just taking the bus home and leaving that junk heap by the side of the road.”
    â€œWhat about me?” Kirby whispered.
    His mother slammed the receiver down. She rubbed her temples in little circles.
    Kirby traced a tepee on the bedspread with his finger. He glanced over at his duffel bag by the door.
    â€œSo, I guess we ain’t leaving for a while, right?” he said.

    His mother flopped back on the bed and put her arm over her face.
    â€œI got no money. I got no car,” she said.
    Kirby smiled.
    â€œGood,” he whispered.
    His mother shot up and glared at him.
    â€œWhat’d you say?” she snapped.
    â€œNothing.” Kirby traced a galloping horse on the bedspread.
    His mother flopped back down on the bed and Kirby went outside. A soft, misty rain had begun falling, already leaving little puddles scattered over the muddy gravel parking lot. Kirby jumped from puddle to puddle, swinging the purple yo-yo Burla had given him over his head like a lasso.
    â€œThat’s dangerous.”
    Kirby looked over at Loretta, sitting in her bathing suit at the picnic table out by the flagpole. She was putting the box of things from her other mother into a plastic grocery bag on her lap.
    Kirby swung the yo-yo harder. It made a buzzing sound as it whipped through the air.
    â€œWe can’t go to Maggie Valley ’cause of the rain,” Loretta said.
    Kirby swung the yo-yo harder, sending drops of rain flying in every direction.

    â€œO-say at-whay,” he said.
    â€œWhat?” Loretta said, jiggling that bracelet of hers on her skinny arm.
    â€œOthing-nay.”
    â€œDid your car get fixed?” Loretta said.
    â€œOpe-nay.”
    Kirby did a few of those yo-yo tricks his Uncle Lester had taught him.
    Around the Corner.
    The Creeper.
    Dizzy Baby.
    â€œShow me how to do that,” Loretta said.
    â€œNaw.”
    Loretta put her hands together like she was praying. “Please,” she said.
    Kirby put the yo-yo in the pocket of his shorts.
    â€œMaybe later,” he said.
    Loretta squeezed her lips together and glared at him. Then she jumped off the picnic table and stormed off with her box tucked under her arm.
    Kirby hopped over a puddle, landing in the mud with a splat. He picked up a stick and hurled it clear across the parking lot and into the ditch on the other side of the road. He practiced a few more yo-yo tricks.
    Runaway Dog.
    Drop in the Bucket.

    He put the yo-yo back in his pocket and jumped over puddles in big, giant leaps, counting out loud.
    One. Two. Three.
    When he got to the swimming pool, he hopped down the cement steps on one foot and back up them on the other. He bounced on the diving board.
    And then he stopped.
    What was that?
    Something shiny out there in the grass by the flagpole.
    He ran over to see what it was.
    A sparkly poodle dog pin with shiny green eyes.
    Loretta’s pin.
    Kirby wiped the mud off it with his shirttail and put it in his pocket with the yo-yo.

Loretta

    Loretta studied the silver pocket watch.
    â€œW, K, L,” she whispered, tracing the letters engraved on the back.
    Her father had said the watch probably once belonged to a man. Loretta had thought and thought about who the man could have been. Her other mother’s father? Her uncle? Maybe her grandfather?
    â€œMama?” Loretta said.
    Her mother looked up from her crossword puzzle and said, “Hmmm?”
    â€œI bet this watch belonged to her father,” Loretta said.
    Her mother nodded. “You could be right, Lulu,” she said.

    â€œAnd so that means her last name started with an L .” Loretta pointed to the L on the back of the pocket watch.
    Her mother adjusted her glasses and studied the watch. “Could be,” she said.
    â€œPam Lawrence,” Loretta said. “Maybe that was her name.”
    Her mother smiled. “Maybe,” she