They had been in Pennsylvania for a week when it happened.
Christopher’s mother said she chose the little town of Mill Grove because it was small and safe and had a great elementary school. But deep down, Christopher thought maybe she picked it because it seemed tucked away from the rest of the world. One highway in. One highway out. Surrounded by trees. They didn’t know anyone there. And if no one knew them, Jerry couldn’t find them.
Mill Grove was a great hiding place.
All she needed was a job. Every morning, Christopher watched his mom put on lipstick and comb her hair all nice. He watched her put on her smart-looking glasses and fret about the hole under the right armpit in her only interview blazer. The rip was in the fabric, not the seam. So, there was nothing to do except throw on a safety pin and pray.
After he ate his Froot Loops, she would take him over to the public library to pick out his book for the day while she looked over the want ads in the paper. The book of the day was his “fee” for eating Froot Loops. If he read a book to practice his words, he got them. If he didn’t, he got Cream of Wheat (or worse). So, he made sure to read that book, boy.
Once Mom had written down a few promising leads, they would climb back in the car and drive around to different interviews. She told Christopher that she wanted him to come along so they could have an adventure. Just the two of them. She said the old Ford was a land shark, and they were looking for prey. The truth was that there was no money for a babysitter, but he didn’t care because he was with his mom.
So, they went “land sharking,” and as she drove, she would grill him on the state capitals. And math problems. And vocabulary.
“Mill Grove Elementary School is really nice. They have a computer lab and everything. You’re going to love second grade.”
No matter where they lived, Christopher’s mother hunted for great public schools the way other moms hunted for bargains on soda (they called it “pop” here in Mill Grove for some reason). And this time, she said, he would have the best. The motel was near a great school district. She promised to drive him every day so he wouldn’t be called a “motel kid” until she saved enough to get them an apartment. She said she wanted him to have the education she never got. And it was okay that he struggled. This was going to be the grade when he’d be better at math. This was the year that all of his hard work would pay off, and he would stop switching letters when he read. And he smiled and believed her because she believed in him.
Then, when she got to each interview, she would take her own private moment and say some words she read in her self-improvement books because she was trying to believe in herself, too.
“They want to love you.”
“You decide this is your job. Not them.”
When she was finally confident, they’d go into the building. Christopher would sit in the waiting rooms and read his book like she wanted, but the letters kept switching, and his mind would wander, and he would think about his old friends. He missed Michigan. If it weren’t for Jerry, he would have loved to stay in Michigan forever. The kids were nice there. And everyone was poor, so nobody knew it. And his best friend Lenny “the Loon” Cordisco was funny and pulled down his pants all the time in front of the nuns in CCD. Christopher wondered what Lenny Cordisco was doing now. Probably getting yelled at by Sister Jacqueline again.
After each interview was over, Christopher’s mother would come out with a shaken look on her face that acknowledged that it really was their decision to hire her. Not hers. But there was nothing to do but climb back in the car and try again. She said that the world can try to take anything from you.
But you have to give it your pride.
On the sixth day, his mother pulled into the middle of town in front of a parking meter and took out her trusty paper bag. The one that said OUT OF ORDER on it. She threw it on the meter and told Christopher that stealing was bad, but parking tickets were worse. She’d make it up to the world when she got back on her feet.
Normally, Christopher had to go into the waiting room to read his book. But on the sixth day, there was a sheriff and his deputy eating across the street in a diner. She called out to them and asked if they were going to be there for a while. They gave her a salute and said they’d keep an eye on her boy. So, as a reward for his reading, she let Christopher in the little park while she went into the old folks home to interview for a job. To Christopher’s eyes, the name of the old folks home read like…
Sahdy Pnies
“Shady Pines,” she corrected. “If you need anything, call out to the sheriff.”
Christopher went to the swings. There was a little caterpillar on the seat. He knew Lenny Cordisco would have smushed it. But Christopher felt bad when people killed small things. So, he got a leaf and put the caterpillar under a tree where it would be cool and safe. Then, he got back on the swings and started to pull. He may not have been able to make a muscle. But boy could he jump.
As he began to swing, he looked up at the clouds. There were dozens of them. They all had different shapes. There was one that looked like a bear. And one that looked like a dog. He saw shapes of birds. And trees. But there was one cloud that was more beautiful than all the rest.
The one that looked like a face.
Not a man. Not a woman. Just a handsome pretty face made of clouds.
And it was smiling at him.
He let go of the swing and jumped.
Christopher pretended that he landed on the warning track. Top of the ninth. Two outs. A circus catch. Tigers win! But Christopher was near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, now. And it was time to switch teams so the kids would like him. Go Pirates!
After ten minutes of swinging, his mother came out. But this time, there was no shaken look. There was only a big smile.
“Did you get the job?” Christopher asked.
“We’re having Chinese tonight.”
After she thanked the sheriff for his help, and was warned about her OUT OF ORDER bag, she got her son back in the land shark and took him out for Movie Night. Friday was their night. She wouldn’t miss it. Not for anything. And this was going to be the best one in a long time. No Jerry. Just their special club with only two members. Junk food. And old movies from the library.
So, they drove to the 7-Eleven to play her numbers like they did every Friday. After picking up some beer, they went back to the library to get Christopher his two practice books for the weekend and a couple of videos for their night. Why do people pay for things that are free? They went to China Gate like the sheriff said since cops know food better than anyone, and she gasped when she saw the prices, but tried her best to hide her expression from him. Then, she smiled. She said she had a little left on the Visa that Jerry didn’t know about, and in a week, she’d have a paycheck. And as they drove back to the motel, with the smell of Egg Rolls and Orange Chicken and Christopher’s favorite Lo Mein (Chinese Spaghetti you like! said the menu), they planned what they would do with the lottery money like they did every Friday before they lost.
Christopher said he would buy her a house. He even made blueprint plans with graph paper. Christopher had video games and a candy room. A basketball court and a petting zoo off the kitchen. All painstakingly planned. But the best room was his mom’s. It was the biggest one in the house. It had a balcony with a diving board that went to her own private pool. And it had the biggest closet with the nicest clothes that weren’t ripped under the arm.
“What would you do with the money, Mom?” he asked.
“I’d get you a tutor and all the books in the world.”
“Mine is better,” he said.
When they got home, the mini fridge in the motel room wasn’t working too well, so her beer was not getting cold in time for their feast. So, as she watched the lottery on the little television, Christopher went to the ice maker down the hall. And Christopher did the thing he learned in the old movies they watched. He got some ice and poured her beer over it to make it cold for her.
“Here, Mom. On the rocks.”
He didn’t know why she laughed so hard, but he was glad to see her so happy.
* * *
Christopher’s mother sipped her beer on the rocks, and made yum yum sounds until her son beamed with pride for his clever—if somewhat misguided—solution to her warm beer problem. After her lottery numbers came up short…AGAIN…she tore up the lottery ticket and put a DVD in the old player she got at a garage sale back in Michigan. The first movie started. It was an old musical she loved as a kid. One of her few good memories. Now one of his. When their feast was done, and the Von Trapps were safely in Switzerland, they opened their fortune cookies.
“What’s yours say, Mom?” he asked.
“You will be fortunate in everything you put your hands on.”
…in bed, she thought and did not say.
“What about yours, buddy?” she asked.
“Mine is blank.”
She looked. His fortune was indeed blank except a series of numbers. He looked so disappointed. The cookies were bad enough. But no fortune?
“This is actually good luck,” she said.
“Really?”
“No fortune is the best fortune. Now you get to make up your own. Wanna trade?”
He thought about it long and hard and said, “No.”
With negotiations over, it was time for the second movie. Before the film had finished, and the good guys had won the war, Christopher had fallen asleep on her lap. She sat there for a long time, looking down at him sleeping. She thought back to the Friday Night Movies when they watched Dracula, and he pretended he wasn’t scared even though he would only wear turtleneck sweaters for a month.
There is a moment childhood ends, she thought. And she wanted his moment to happen a long time from now. She wanted her son to be smart enough to get out of this nightmare, but not smart enough to know that he was actually inside one.
She picked up her sleeping boy and took him to his sleeping bag. She kissed his forehead and instinctively checked to make sure he didn’t have a fever. Then, she went back to the kitchen. And when she finished her beer on the rocks, she made another just like it. Because she realized she was going to remember this night.
The night she stopped running.
It had been four years.
Four years since she found her husband dead in a bathtub with a lot of blood and no note. Four years of grief and rage and behavior that felt out of body. But enough was enough. Stop running. Your kid deserves better. So do you. No more debt. No more bad men. Just the peace of a life well fought and won. A parent with a job is a hero to someone. Even if it was cleaning up after old people in a retirement home.
She took her beer on the rocks out on the fire escape. She felt the cool breeze. And she wished it weren’t so late or she’d play her favorite Springsteen and pretend she was a hero.
As she finished her drink, she was content, looking up at the August night and the beautiful stars behind that big cloud.
That cloud that looked like a smiling face.