Ma handed me her key and said, “I’ve got to call Ellie. Go warm the stew. I’ll be right up.”

“But—”

“Git!”

She zapped me hard with the steely-eye, and since there’s no arguing with Ma’s steely-eye or her git, I got. But I was burning with questions! Why had Ma given Aunt Ellie the pay phone number? We didn’t have a phone, but why not give Aunt Ellie the number at Brookside, like she’d done for the school when she’d filled out my forms? And why was Aunt Ellie calling, relaying messages through street folk? What was so important? It couldn’t have anything to do with Ma not repaying her. Everything we did—or, more like, didn’t do—seemed to come back to us still owing Aunt Ellie. Every time Ma got paid, she sent Aunt Ellie money, and every time I asked for something, I got told, “Not until I’ve got Ellie paid back.” Even Snickers bars got nixed.

All this went sparking through my brain at light speed. And since Ma’s steely-eye wasn’t glaring at me right then, I had a full recharge of curiosity, which got me doin’ an about-face back to the gate.

I opened the gate as quiet as I could, and spy-eyed the corner. I could see Ma hunkered against the phone with her back to me, so I went through the gate and edged in closer.

What I heard set my heart scampering like a rabbit. “He won’t, Ellie,” Ma was saying. “He can’t even get himself to work. How’s he ever going to get it together to track me down?” She listened for a bit, then said, “I’m sure he was! That’s how he gets when he’s drinking.” She added the g at the last minute. Like she was remembering how to speak a foreign language. Then she heaved a sigh and said, “Look, if it happens again, just keep denying you’ve seen us….Yes…Yes…I know….Yes’m. And you know I appreciate it….I will. And I’ll put some extra in the last one. You should have it before Christmas….Mm-hmm…I’m sorry about the trouble. Really, I am.”

I should’ve backed away the second I knew Aunt Ellie had called about Cliff, but I got greedy, wanting to know more, and gettin’ greedy always bites me in the backside.

“Lincoln!” Ma snapped when she saw me trying to steal away. She came steaming at me like a locomotive. “Since when do you flat out disobey me?”

“Since the stairs are dark and I got scared?” I gave her my best pleading look. “You never let me go up or down by myself after dark!”

It was enough to not get me cuffed, though I’m pretty sure she knew I was playing hide ’n’ seek with the truth.

She snatched the key back from me and said, “What did you hear?”

“That Cliff’s after us.”

“He ain’t after us!” she said, spitting the words out hard and fast.

When Ma’s not clownin’ around, “ain’t” means she’s simmerin’ in stress. And since this time the word popped out like a bubble breaking through heatin’ stew, I knew it was bad.

“Sorry,” she said, calming herself as she went through the gate and closed it behind us. “I don’t want you to worry. He will never in a million years come out here.”

As we headed up the steps, I told her, “We need to get a phone, Ma. We need to get a phone so we can call 911 if he does show up.”

“It’s a mighty big world, Lincoln. And he’s about as enterprisin’ as a barstool. Look how long it’s taken him to lift his dialin’ finger—we’ve been gone since July! Besides, no one but Ellie knows we’re out here, and she doesn’t know where we’re livin’ or where I’m workin’.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell her? Because you were afraid Cliff would track us down?”

“He’s never gonna track us down. Not with us this far away. I’m guessin’ he’s finally been evicted, which is why he’s callin’ around now. He’s at a dead end with me, so his next move’ll be to sweet-talk his way into some other woman’s home, Heaven help her.” She locked me down with double-barreled eyeballs. “We’ve got nothin’ to worry about, you hear?”

“Then why didn’t you tell Aunt Ellie our address or where you work?”

“Maybe I didn’t want her weighin’ in on where we live or what I do.” She shook her head. “Lord, she would have so much to say!”

It still didn’t make sense. “But why give her the pay phone number? We can’t hear it ring.”

She frowned. “I didn’t give her the number. She got nosy and wrote it down from caller ID when I called once before about sending her payments.” She frowned even harder. “And now she’s all wantin’ to know who ‘my man’ is.”

“You mean Levi?”

She flashed a look at me. “I am tryin’ to forget his name.”

“But why, Ma?”

“Because now he’s not just a man.” She pulled out her key and slid it in the lock. “Now he’s somebody. Somebody’s son. Or brother. Or father. Maybe all three!”

I hurried to follow her inside. “But…wasn’t he always?”

She clicked on a lamp, then turned to face me. “Somebody named him, Lincoln. The same way I named you.”

I didn’t like the way that felt.

Not one bit.

So I switched back to Aunt Ellie. “Well? What did you tell her?”

“Who? Ellie? I told her the truth.”

“That he’s a homeless guy?”

“No! That it’s a pay phone.”

When she set her bag down on the kitchen table, it seemed to pull her heart down with it. “It’s gonna be okay, Ma,” I said, touching her arm.

The words floated around us, feeling strange.

Like I was still playing hide ’n’ seek with the truth.