Rumbling truck engines knocked me awake.
I looked up at the morning sky and realized that for the second day in a row I was not at home. Neither was I in the Catfish’s car. (No thumbtacks holding the fabric up, nothing but tree limbs and clouds overhead.) Where I was, was on the hard ground. My bones were angry, neck stiff, mouth parched.
Suddenly, I remembered everything that had happened, clear as a bell: my birthday cake, my piglet, my mother gone. I didn’t feel one year older; I felt a hundred million years older.
I sat up fast, shook my head, and locked eyes with Bunny, who was sitting on his little haunches patiently waiting for me to wake up.
“Okay, what now?” I asked, but the piglet only sighed heavily.
I stood up and brushed myself off, picked up the protective lasso and looped it around Bunny’s neck. Then I saw Mother’s panty hose crumpled in the dust, the ones she had given me to walk my pig. I felt a cry rolling up from my toes but I stuffed it back down.
No. Time. For. That.
I’d never find Aunt Eleanor Rose if I just sat there in the dust. I had to get up and do something, anything, even though I had no entire clue what that might be.
We eased back up to the Okay Corral, and even though it was early morning, the place was busy with noisy trucks and cars. A portion of the parking lot was roped off with crime scene tape. Other than that you wouldn’t have known the calamity that had occurred. I wished I could have said the same for myself.
Just remove all of it from my brain.
But that was foolish thinking. And I am not foolish.
I was hungry, but first I needed to find the little girls’ room. I walked all the way around the building hoping to find an outside door to the toilets. But there wasn’t one. That was a problem. I wasn’t about to leave Bunny tied up outside, so I picked up the little fella and covered him with my cowboy hat, then strolled through the store, keeping my head high. Bunny didn’t wiggle at all. He’s smart that way.
The toilet doors had a theme. A painted cowboy with a lasso for the men, and for the ladies a cowgirl with a fringy skirt. I pushed into the cowgirl door.
Inside there were three stalls, all empty. So I had time to stop at the sinks. I grabbed a handful of water and held it up for Bunny to slurp. I splashed some on my face, then before anybody else came in I hurried into the first stall.
I tried to keep Bunny in my lap but couldn’t. “Don’t touch anything,” I said, putting him down on the dirty floor, and he listened. He didn’t lick or sniff, he just waited for me to do my business and flush.
Then I heard someone else come in the ladies’ room. I snatched Bunny up real quick, so they wouldn’t see his hooves under the door. I waited. The sink water ran and stopped. I waited some more. I heard humming. I heard footsteps into the third toilet, and when they stopped in the stall, I covered Bunny with my hat and headed out, fast. Deliberate.
Three steps out I heard, “Ruby Clyde? Is that you?”
I almost dropped the pig.
It was Angie from the Hot Springs campsite. She had not gone into the stall for real, she had only stepped in to grab a handful of toilet paper and stepped right back out. She blew her nose and then dabbed lightly.
It had only been one day since I had seen her, but it felt like forever, so much had happened.
“Dear child, whatever is wrong?” Her eyes traveled between my face and my pig, trying to decide which was more unexpected. I must have looked a sight because she settled on my face.
“My world has exploded into a million dangerous pieces!” I blurted.
She saw that I was dead serious so she stepped to the door and locked it.
She turned her back to the door and leaned against it. “Where are your parents?”
“The Catfish is not my father,” I spat out. “That stupid fool robbed this gas station and got them both arrested. I hid in the bushes so the police wouldn’t put me in an orphanage.”
“Ah, that explains the crime tape…” She folded me in for a big warm hug. Bunny was sandwiched between us. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you now. Tell me everything.”
So I did. And the only good part of my whole entire story was how we got Bunny.
“I knew that man was no good,” she said when I finished. It was nice to have some agreement on that.
“Where’s home, Ruby Clyde? Don’t you have people there? We can call them to come and get you.”
Home. I thought about my friend Bunny, but her stepfather was kind of mean; the school nurse was always nice to me, but she had a job; Mr. Upchuck, but he’d put me in the orphanage for sure. My grandmother was dead, and she could stay that way for all I cared. Who else was there at home?
Suddenly, I realized there was nobody for me back home. I had wanted so badly to go home, but I hadn’t thought about what I would do when I got there. I was homesick through and through but didn’t even know what home meant anymore.
* * *
My face in the bathroom mirror looked like it belonged to somebody else. I shook my head—no, nobody at home, no home. I didn’t have any choice. “I have an aunt near here. Eleanor Rose, she’s a nun in Cypress Mill. Could you help me find her, please? Oh please. I don’t know what to think.”
“Okay then,” she said. “I’ll do the thinking.”
I wasn’t accustomed to anybody doing my thinking, but I was flat out of thoughts.
“You ready?” she said, poised to unlock the door.
I put the hat back over Bunny, Angie flipped the lock, and out we walked.
“Go on over to my car, it’s the yellow Volvo. I’m going to get a map and ask a few questions.” She marched up to the counter with the cash registers while I walked out, one careful step after another, hiding Bunny. But I had Angie now, so I wasn’t so afraid of getting caught and put in the orphanage. It was a miracle. The whole thing. Angie was an angel, for sure, showing up like that.
I didn’t know what a Volvo was, but her boxy yellow car sat by the far pump, away from the crime scene tape. I strapped into the passenger seat and placed Bunny on my lap. After a while Angie came out of the store, got into the driver’s seat, handed me a paper bag, and fastened her seat belt.
“Hope you like chocolate milk,” she said as she turned the ignition.
I answered by opening the glass bottle and gulping. I twisted in the seat and watched through the rear window. As the Okay Corral got smaller, we took a curve and the worst place on earth was gone. Angie found the ramp and sped up to match the traffic on the interstate.
When we reached a steady pace, I finished the chocolate milk and burped.
And once I had something in my stomach, I didn’t waste any time. Questions poured out.
Where did they take Mother? Is she in jail? How long will they keep her? Is she with that horrible Catfish? When can I see her?
“Take a breath, girl. I can’t get a word in edgewise.” She drew one hand through her loose curls and laughed, a soft, friendly laugh.
“Okay, tell me.” I forced myself to quit talking and listen. “Tell me what you know.”
Angie sighed and said, “I don’t know much, but I’m pretty sure that your mother and her boyfriend are in two different jails.”
“Good riddance,” I growled, then shut up again.
“And she is a quiet woman so I think things will go smoothly for her.”
“What things?”
“Ruby Clyde…” She cut her eyes at me. I zipped my lip. “She’ll probably have a trial, in a court.”
“A trial? But she didn’t do anything. It was all that stupid stupid Catfish.”
“That may be, but these things take time.”
* * *
Angie insisted on buying me some clothes. She stopped at one of those Everything’s A Bargain stores and grabbed some panties and socks, a pair of shorts and a striped top, and some blue pajamas with balloons all over. She was a fast shopper and I liked that. She picked up a box of Cheerios for Bunny and said, “Let’s find us some breakfast.”
She was doing a good job of being the thinker, so I let her keep on.
Bunny ate Cheerios from my hand as Angie drove to a diner and parked. She took me inside and put me down at a booth, then left to get a bowl of water for Bunny.
While she was away, the waitress spread menus on the table and came back with forks rolled into paper napkins. “Can I get you something to drink?”
I read the big menu, looking for beverages.
Angie returned and slid into the booth across from me. “Coffee please,” she told the waitress. “For both of us.” She remembered I’d had coffee at the campsite. “And water too. No ice.”
She unfolded the map and flattened it on the table. “I found out Cypress Mill is west of Austin.” She ran her finger along a spidery line, then stopped and stabbed the map. “There it is. Not too far. I couldn’t find a phone listing for your aunt but we can drive up there and ask around. They said it’s just a crossroad really, but there’s a store.”
Angie read the menu and talked to me at the same time. “Can you read a map? I’ll need a navigator.”
“Wordly Wizard,” I shouted automatically.
The waitress had just walked up to take our order. She looked at me like I was a bug.
“Navigate.” I scrunched my shoulders together and smiled up at her. “It’s one of my vocabulary words.”
“Okaaay,” she said. “Is egg one of your vocabulary words? Or pancake?”
“Pancakes please, with bacon.” I thought of Bunny and I got a stabbing pain. “Wait! No bacon.”