A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [85]
“I’ll bet she’s really cute, huh?”
“She is. She is, she’s really cute.”
“Hey, you ever need a baby-sitter, I got lots of experience,” she said, grinning.
“How’d you get here?” He looked toward the street.
“I walked. Me and Leonardo. Well, I walked. But not him, the spoiled-rotten little thing, he got carried most of the way.”
“You walked? Why? What’s wrong? You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”
“No! I’m not in any trouble.” She laughed. “I just need to borrow some money, that’s all, and I was hoping maybe—”
“Why? What’s going on with your mother?”
“Nothing. She’s got some kind of flu thing or something. One of those viruses, I guess you call it, and she’s been—”
“She sent you here to ask me for money?”
“No! No, she doesn’t even know I’m here. I just figured you could help me out. I got this, like, field trip, this thing I gotta go on, and I’m supposed to bring the money in tomorrow. For the tickets. For the bus. The bus tickets.” She swallowed. “It’s gonna cost like . . . fifty dollars,” she said, plunging full-speed ahead. Might as well go for it, because from the look on his face she probably wasn’t going to get anything anyway, so what the hell.
“Where’s the field trip to?”
“The aquarium.” The first place that came to mind. She had missed out on a lot of field trips there over the years.
“Fifty dollars to go a few miles into Boston?”
“No, not that aquarium. The one in New York. New York City.” Jesus Christ, she didn’t even know if there was one there. Probably not, from the red-faced way he was staring down at her now, like something inside getting ready to explode.
“All right, look, Jada. I’m gonna help you, but just this one time. But first you gotta tell me the truth. Who’s the money for, you or your mother?”
“Me! I swear!”
“Because if it’s for her, all you’re doing is helping her kill herself. You know that, right?”
Even her nod felt like betrayal.
“You know how many times your mother’s screwed me? How many times she’s lied and cheated and even stole things from me? Last summer we went to the beach for the weekend. One lousy weekend, and my house gets broken into. And all Sue’s jewelry gone and her little TV in the kitchen. Right away I knew it was her.” He folded his arms. “So tell me, tell me the truth, what do you really need money for?”
“The field trip.” If she said food, he’d know she was alone and he’d call Social Services again.
“You sure?”
“Yeah! I’m sure! I got a book all about it. I’m gonna read it tonight. All about whales, sharks, swordfish, codfish—” She stopped just short of saying cakes. “Catfish.”
“Who’s your teacher?”
“Mr. Ansaldo.” She watched his hand slip into his pocket.
“Sam Ansaldo? He’s a client. I just pumped him out last fall. What time’s school start?”
“Seven forty-five.”
“Okay. At seven-thirty I’ll be right there and that way the money’ll be safe. I won’t have to worry about Marvella ending up with it. I’ll pay your teacher myself.” He started to open the door. “See you in the morning!”
“Uncle Bob! It’s not for a field trip.”
“So you lied to me.”
“No! I do need the money. But not for a field trip. That part’s not true.” Her mind raced with reasons. She could say for clothes or shoes, but he might offer to buy them for her. “It’s for medicine.”
“Medicine? You got Medicaid, right?”
She had no idea. “For him, for Leonardo,” she said, pointing. The dog lay curled, asleep at her feet. “He was, like, really sick, and this wicked nice lady, she drove us to Dearborn to this vet and we got all this medicine, and she paid for it, but now I gotta pay her back, so I—”
“Jada! You sound just like her now. Like all the rest of them with their lying and cheating. I’m gonna tell you something. I wasn’t much older than you when I just took off on my own, and if you’re smart, that’s what the hell you’ll do, too! Find some good people and stick with them.”
“But it’s true. I’m not lying. Her name’s Delores. She’s this big lady, and I owe her money. I do! I swear!”
Behind him the curtain parted