Wanted: Live in Babysitter—Pregnant Teenager Ok

I’d read the ad in the Chicago Sun Times and I quickly called the number. I didn’t have any choice, I could tell that George didn’t like me anymore. So at midnight I caught the Illinois Central and got up there about 8 o’clock the next morning. The lady sure enough knew me . . . picked me right out of the crowd. She was hard and rough lookin’ . . . said she was tired, had just got off the grave yard shift at the factory. We took off in her beat-up old station wagon and she didn’t say much . . . just that she’d already found a girl but would help me anyway. When we got to her house her kids jumped up and down . . . “Mommie . . . Mommie,” they squealed. She hugged and kissed them. I stayed there several days. She fed me SpaghettiOs and hot dogs and never asked for a penny. Finally a connection was made . . . an older lady who’d adopted a newborn. Off we went in the station wagon. I felt so scared . . . so alone . . . no one knew where I was . . . I hadn’t talked to George in weeks. I started cryin’. She looked over at me. “Honey, don’t you worry,” she said. “You’ve got to think of yer baby . . . if you git down . . . you gotta git right back up . . . when I feel like killin’ myself I jist go wash my face and then put on a little make-up . . . always makes me feel better . . . try it!” she said as we pulled up in front of a little house similar to hers. I got out and watched her drive off. I picked up my suitcase and walked up the stairs to meet the new stranger, hoping she would be a nice lady too.