Jude

He still had time. Mom was working a double shift and wouldn’t be home till after eleven. He could give Spider a bath, get him in his PJs, feed him something, and put him to bed. He could even get in a little more work on the bathroom.

He could still get away with this.

Or not.

Her car was in the driveway.

Her car was in the driveway.

Mr. Peters was pacing back and forth in his front yard. By now it was full dark, but his security light lit up his lawn like a landing strip. When he saw Jude and Spider, he threw his hands in the air. His voice rolled out like thunder.

“Thank goodness! Are you two all right? Your mother has been frantic with worry!”

For a moment Jude considered asking Mr. Peters if they could hide out in his house for the rest of their lives. Then he noticed that the driver’s door of Mom’s car was partway open. When he went to shut it, he saw her purse sitting on the seat.

That massive purse was an extension of her. It was like she’d left her arm behind.

“Jude?” Mr. Peters said. “Will you let me know if I can help?”

Nothing but nothing could help Jude now. Still, as he picked up the purse and ran for the door, he called over his shoulder. “That light? It really fries her nerves.”

He threw open the front door, Spider right behind.

“Mom?”

“Thank God!”

She caught hold of them and gave them the once-over, checking for blood or broken bones. Grabbed her purse, went into the kitchen, picked up her phone, and texted Auntie Jewel. Fell into a chair. Shut her eyes.

Cone of silence.

Spider looked at Jude like, Are we in trouble or not? Jude wondered if he should get his mother a beer from the fridge. He wondered if he should put a pizza in the microwave. Maybe if he acted like everything was okay...

“I drove all over town looking for you.” Her eyes were still shut and her voice was flat as a run-over squirrel. “Everywhere, even across the tracks. I called the library, Jabari, every last freaking place I could think of. I called Jewel. She and Hal were out looking, too. Even Mr. Peters knows.”

“I can explain.”

“No.” She opened her eyes. “No you cannot. Do not even try.”

Suddenly, all he felt was tired. He’d never been this tired in his whole life.

“They gave me my notice today. Just like that.” Mom tried to snap her fingers but they didn’t make a sound. She rested her arms on the table and he saw how the edges of her uniform were frayed from all the times she’d washed it. It took a moment to process what she’d said.

“You mean, you got fired?”

“They don’t call it fired. The snakes. The weasels. The two-faced, double-crossing, crap-eating cowards. They tell you your employment has been appreciated but as soon as you finish dinner service you are terminated. Please clean out your locker ASAP. Oh, and good luck.”

He remembered Gladys saying how she hated when people misused language. They’d done the same thing to her father when he got fired.

“That’s not right,” he said. “That’s not fair.”

“That’s what Miss Edith said when I told her. Poor Miss Edith. What’s she going to do with all those doilies now?” His mother’s laugh was small and hard. “She had a fit. That’s not fair, she said. You’re the best worker they’ve got. I told her, Miss Edith, no offense, but by your age you should know. Life is just like a dog. Give it a chance and it will bite.”

Spider walked the T. rex up her arm. She swatted it away.

“They had the nerve to say they’d give me a good recommendation. Like jobs grow on trees around here? I told them just where they could shove their recommendation.”

The words were angry, but her voice was worn out as her ugly uniform. Her job was hard—hard—but she’d done it. Every day, any shift they gave her, Mom showed up and did her best. How could they treat her like this? Jude wished she’d call Auntie Jewel who’d say I told you so and then they’d have an argument. He wished she’d go outside and holler at Mr. Peters about his light. He wished she’d do anything normal.

Then she did.

“So I came home. And what’d I find? What’d I find, Jude? You tell me.”

“Mom, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. If you were really sorry, you’d quit letting me down like this. Driving home, I told myself, I still got my boys. Nothing and nobody can take my two boys away from me. I walk in the door, and what do I find?”

“Mom—”

“I find you’re gone. I find I can’t trust you. Again. After last time I was sure you learned a lesson, but I was wrong. I swear, Jude. I don’t even want to know where you were or what you thought was more important than your family. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me. You know what’s worst of all?”

She paused like she really meant him to answer, but he knew better.

“You’re teaching your little brother to lie. Lie and go behind my back. You know he looks up to you.” Mom pushed back her chair. “I’ve been sitting here asking myself, what’s left? What’s still good? And I am coming up empty.”

She picked up her phone and went down the hall. Jude followed her. Mr. Peters’s light blazed through her bedroom window, flooding it with brightness. Then, just like that, it winked out. For a second, Mom and Jude stood there in darkness so sudden and total, it was like all the light in the world was gone.

Then Mom shut the door on him. She didn’t come out the rest of the night.