A Safe Place for Joey (10 page)

“One of his children’s teachers,” I compromised.

“Well, is it urgent?”

“Yes,” I answered, not knowing.

“Jack,” the man called. “Telephone.”

There was the sound of the phone against a table or desk. The machines thudded on.

“Hello.” The man’s voice was softer than I’d expected.

“Mr. Kroner. This is Mary MacCracken. We’ve never met, but I’ve been working with Eric the last few months, helping him with …” I hesitated. What had I been helping Eric with? Why was I finding it so
difficult to speak?

“Uh, with some of his school work. He didn’t come for his appointment yesterday, and they say he hasn’t been in school all week. I was worried about him. I … uh … couldn’t reach anyone at your house.”

“That so?” I pressed a hand over my other ear, as if that would help me hear him above the machines. “Well, could be. Mrs. Kroner’s taking a little trip – took the
boy along with her.”

“A trip? She didn’t mention anything about a trip or cancel any of Eric’s appointments. Where did they go?” I realized too late that my question sounded abrupt.

But Mr. Kroner continued to talk in the same soft voice. “I don’t know where they went. No idea. When she decides to go, she goes and takes the runt along. When she decides to come back, she comes back.”

The runt? Did he mean Eric? But his voice was so soft, so sweet; perhaps I’d misunderstood. No one at school had mentioned previous absences – but then, I hadn’t talked to his kindergarten teacher and Miss Selby was new.

“But Eric’s all right? I mean he’s always been all right before?”

“All right? You said you knew him.” Even the sarcasm came so sweetly and softly off his tongue
that I didn’t recognize it immediately. “I gotta go now, lady,” he continued. “But he’ll be back. Always has. It’s just his mama’s got this little drinkin’ problem. Gets worse around the holidays and off she goes.” The phone clicked. The dial tone hummed, and I replaced the receiver.

A drinking problem? I couldn’t believe it. Mrs. Kroner was always so responsible, so in control. She did
look much older than her years, but I assumed that came from work and worry. I had never seen or heard anything to make me suspect she drank. But if she did have a problem, how bad was it? Was she capable of caring for Eric? Mr. Kroner certainly hadn’t sounded concerned, but then Mr. Kroner also referred to Eric as “the runt.”

Nine thirty. I got out the telephone book again, knowing it was
late, but maybe not too late.

I searched through the half-dozen Tortonis, found a Frank, dialed, apologized when a woman answered.

“Mrs. Tortoni?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Mary MacCracken. I’m sorry to call this late, but, well, it’s a long story. I’ve been working with a friend of yours – little Eric Kroner – and … I guess I was just worried about him and called to see if
you knew anything.”

“Well, Mrs. MacCracken, I’d like to help you. I really would, after all you did for us. Frankie’s still doin’ real well. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything, and I really can’t talk more now. Good-bye.”

Mrs. Tortoni had sounded guarded. Not her usual self. She hadn’t even asked why I was worried about Eric. I had the feeling she knew more than she’d said. But
there was no point in calling her back, at least not until tomorrow morning.

By ten o’clock the Tortoni kids would be in school and Frank Senior at the garage. If Mrs. Tortoni was ever going to talk to me, this seemed the most likely time.

“Hello.” Mrs. Tortoni’s voice seemed a little friendlier.

I identified myself, and then without actually repeating what Mr. Kroner had said,
I implied that I was concerned about Mrs. Kroner as well as Eric.

“Well, now, look. It’s really kind of you to be thinking about them,” Mrs. Tortoni said. “I know they’d appreciate it and all, but there isn’t anything you can do. Believe me. Now I’ll let you know if something comes up. And Frankie said to be sure and say hello.”

Late Friday afternoon the phone in my office rang, and
I handed the boy I was working with the stopwatch (I always pay a chip for each second I’m on the phone) and picked up the receiver.

“Mrs. MacCracken. This is Blanche Kroner. I’m sorry to interrupt you.” She spoke in a strained whisper, but her words were clear.

“That’s all right. I’ve been trying to reach you. How’s Eric?”

“That’s why I’m calling. He’s all right, but I need
some work for him. I can’t talk over the phone.” Her voice had dropped so I could barely hear her. “What I wondered was if you could come to Grover tomorrow morning and bring work for Eric. I can’t talk anymore. Will you meet me at the Main Street Diner at ten o’clock?”

She hung up before I could answer.

That night, when I’d finished work I went through my shelves and closets collecting
materials that I thought might be helpful to Eric. I wasn’t quite sure what kind of work Mrs. Kroner wanted – or for how long a period – and I couldn’t find a great deal. I made up most of what I used out of my head, but I found a scope and sequence chart, a few readiness workbooks, and a teacher’s manual, and put them in a large manila envelope and took it home with me.

The next morning
I followed the map to Grover, and Main Street was easy to find. The diner was at the far west end of the run-down street.

Mrs. Kroner had obviously been watching for me, and she came forward and led me to a back booth in the almost empty diner.

I ordered coffee for both of us and waited for Mrs. Kroner to explain. She wore her usual black cloth coat. She looked thin and tense, certainly
not drunk, but I wasn’t exactly sure what to look for.

The waitress set our coffee on the red Formica tabletop, and as soon as she left Mrs. Kroner leaned across, reaching out, almost touching my arm.

“I need work for Eric, like I said. See, I’m leaving this afternoon, and I want him to keep on learning like he’s been doing and you’re the only one I can talk to.” There was a tremendous
urgency behind her words, although she spoke in a hoarse whisper.

“Where are you thinking of going?”

“I don’t want to talk about that – just going, that’s all.”

“What about Eric?”

“He’s going with me. That’s why I need the work.”

“Mrs. Kroner,” I said. “I think you ought to think about this more. Eric’s been doing so well, making such progress, I don’t think it’s
a good idea to take him out of school now. He’s already missed a week. I talked to Miss Selby.”

Mrs. Kroner leaned toward me, immediately alert. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She didn’t know any more than I did.”

Mrs. Kroner relaxed, but only for a minute.

“Did you bring the work?” she insisted.

“Yes.” I put the envelope on the table. “But I think I need to tell you
that I talked to Mr. Kroner and –”

“When?” she interrupted. “What did he say?”

“I’m trying to tell you,” I said as gently as I could. “He said that you often went off on trips, particularly around the holidays.”

“That’s not true. Where would I go?”

“He said,” I continued, “that you take Eric with you and that you go on these trips because you have a drinking problem. Now
if this is true, please don’t leave. Stay and get help – think about Eric.”

Mrs. Kroner’s mouth was tight with anger. “I don’t drink. He tells everybody that, speaking so sweet, so nice. He does it so that if I ever – never mind. Thanks for the books.”

She stood up and reached for the envelope, and I put my hand on her arm.

“Why, then? Why do you have to go? You just said you
didn’t have any place to go.”

“I meant for trips. I’m going for good now.” She sat down heavily, and her untouched coffee sloshed into the saucer.

“Do you know how hard it will be for Eric to start in a new school in the middle of the year?” I asked. “More than the middle – there are only a little over two months left. For Eric’s sake, couldn’t you wait that long?”

“It’s for
Eric’s sake I’m going,” she said quietly, but no longer whispering.

I waited for her to say more, but she sat without speaking although she made no move to leave. Finally I said, “What do you mean, for Eric’s sake?”

She put down the paper napkin with which she had been wiping up the spilled coffee.

“All right,” she said. “I didn’t know for sure until this year. I had my ideas,
but, see, Jack works the night shift – I told you that – and when Eric started school full time I began working days at the cosmetic factory.

“I liked it. I liked the company. I liked the money. But then one of the girls got some kind of bug or virus, and we all got it one after the other – headache, fever. Didn’t last long, but it came on fast.

“When it hit me, I tried to keep on
working. I didn’t want to go home. To tell the truth, I didn’t like being around him, Jack, any more than he liked being around me. We just stayed out of each other’s way.

“But then I began to heave, so I decided I had to go home. It’s only about six blocks, and I made it all right. I let myself in – didn’t even stop to take off my coat, just wanted to get off my feet. Our bedroom door was
closed, which was queer, because Jack usually sleeps on the cot in the back room – says its quieter there during the day – but I felt so sick I didn’t stop to think about it. I just opened the door – and there were Jack and Bella in the bed, both of them stark naked.

“‘Get out of here, the both of you,’ I yelled at them. But Jack picked up a towel by the side of the bed and wrapped it around
him. He told Bella to take her clothes and go on down to the drugstore for a while, and Bella did like he said. Then he comes over to me and puts his hands around my neck. He’s strong, Jack is, even though he doesn’t look it. And he says if I ever tell he’ll kill me. Not only me – Eric, too. Says it’s my fault anyway ’cause I’m such a dried-up old crone.”

I didn’t want to hear this. It belonged
in some scandal sheet or maybe a textbook. Not in Eric’s life. I wanted to think Mrs. Kroner was lying or making it up. But it was too real. I waited for her to cry, but she looked at me steadily and dry-eyed.

“So we made a deal,” she said. “I wouldn’t tell, and he wouldn’t bother me and Eric.”

“What about Bella?”

“She’s a born slut. She’d do it – and does – with any Tom, Dick,
or Harry. She doesn’t care he’s her father. She likes the presents he brings her and all that pretty talk. I can hear them sometimes up in Bella’s room in the attic. I try to cover Eric’s ears.”

I looked hard at Mrs. Kroner. Bella was her daughter, still a child, no matter what else. Shouldn’t she have tried to protect Bella instead of making a deal? I started to say this to Mrs. Kroner
but she interrupted.

“I know it wasn’t right. That’s why I didn’t want anybody testing Eric. I was afraid somebody would find out something. But life’s not easy, you know. You make do. You get through. A lot of it isn’t pretty. And I had Errol – Jack kept to his word and left us alone.”

I thought about Eric. How had he done as well as he had? Not only serious learning disabilities,
but all this as well. But Mrs. Kroner was still talking.

“That is, he kept his word until last Wednesday. I came home from work in the late afternoon. Errol was watching TV in the kitchen, Jack was asleep in the back room, and Bella was out. Everything seemed like usual.

“I washed up like I always do before bringing Errol over to you. Then I called to Errol to come get his bath, like
always. But he didn’t want to. Fussed and cried and carried on. I didn’t know what to make of it. Usually he wants to look clean and nice for you. So finally I just took his clothes off him, but before I got him in the tub I saw how his bottom was bright red and splotchy. Some kind of rash, I thought. Now what’s he coming down with.

“But then Errol started to cry, and I shut the door tight
so he wouldn’t wake Jack, and Errol shows me, acting it out, how Jack made him take down his pants. And then when Errol wouldn’t get under the covers with him, Jack smacked him across the bottom with an old curtain rod. And when I looked close I could see the welts – the red wasn’t from any rash.

“I put Errol’s clothes back on him as quick as I could and went out the door calling that we
were going to your place – just in case Jack had heard and was starting after us. Then I didn’t know where to go, so we took the bus here to Grover. But I couldn’t go on to you ’cause that’s where he thought we were going. So finally we just came here and waited till I was sure Jack would be at work.

“Since then we’ve been at the Tortonis’ – you know her, she said you’d called. I had to
stay till I could get back in the house when both Jack and Bella were out and get the money I had hid. I had to get bus fare.

“I don’t want to say exactly where we’re going, but it’s upstate New York, where I grew up. My mother’s still there, and she’ll take us in. But I gotta put Errol in school as soon as we get there. I know that. That’s why I had to talk to you. To find out what’s best
for him.

“Well, I got the money late yesterday. That’s when I called you. And now I’m going back to get Errol from the Tortonis, and we’re leaving this afternoon.”

I left the diner a half hour later. I went over the books I’d brought and urged Mrs. Kroner to enter Eric in kindergarten when they arrived. He was so small, I was sure he’d fit in – and he’d have a better chance of handling
first grade next year. I also urged her to contact a mental health clinic for support and help for both of them. All she really wanted was the books, as if they were some magic talisman. That was the last time I saw Mrs. Kroner, and I’ve never again seen or heard from Eric.

I did call Family Services about Bella, but by the time they got over to the house both she and Mr. Kroner had disappeared.

I saw Eric for only a few sessions, a fraction of the time I spend with most children, yet he is the one who haunts my dreams.

If our time together hadn’t been interrupted, could he have continued his growth? Over and over I ask myself why I didn’t realize what was going on. Eric tried to show me with his play – always the girl doll beside the father, always the struggle to decide whether
he was a boy or a baby. Why hadn’t I asked Mrs. Kroner more questions? Did I think I shouldn’t intrude? If I had, could I have made a difference?