The Winters in Bloom by Lisa Tucker

Author:Lisa Tucker [Tucker, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Part Three

TWENTY-TWO

Michael had been sitting on the side of the road for a long time. He’d watched as the shadow from the sun had moved across the empty parking lot of the restaurant and past the Out of Business sign and onto the brown field. At one point, he’d unhooked his seat belt to lock the doors, though he knew it wouldn’t help that much, since the windows were unrolled. The rest of the time he’d spent arranging the toy cars in rows along the seat next to him, practicing his six times tables, and most of all, wishing that April would stop being sick.

When she finally said she was going to call for help, he felt like he could breathe better, like a breeze had blown into the car, though the air was just as still as before. “My mommy and daddy will help,” he said.

“I’m sure they would,” April said. She was lying down on the front seat. All he could see was her skinny hand, thrown against the passenger headrest. “But I’m going to call somebody else.”

He wanted to tell her that his parents would help better than anybody, but she was already sitting up, stumbling out of the car, and walking in the ditch next to the road. He could hear her voice rising and falling, but not the words. When she got back in the car, she turned on the engine. She didn’t speak at all as she made a U-turn and headed back down the road they’d come from.

“I don’t want to go back on the boat,” Michael said.

“We’re not,” April said. “We’re going to a motel.”

“I want to go home.”

“I know, buddy,” she said, but she kept driving in the same direction. “I’m really sorry, but I promised I would do this.”

She said she was sorry again when she came out of the motel office holding a big black plastic key. “We got stuck with room 13,” she said. “It’s the only one they had.”

“Thirteen isn’t really unlucky,” Michael said. His parents had taught him the word superstition, but he couldn’t remember it right then.

April took his hand and they walked on the crumbly black pavement toward the room. “I bet you don’t even believe in Santa Claus, do you?”

He didn’t, but he wasn’t about to say so. After this boy named Drew started crying at his second kindergarten, he’d decided not to tell anyone else that Santa Claus was only a story.

April opened the door with the plastic key and told him to go to the bathroom. When he came out, she said she had to go. He looked around the room while he was waiting for her. There were two beds with green and gold bedspreads, a dresser, and a big TV bolted to the wall. He didn’t want to be in bed while it was light outside, so he sat down on the only chair, over by the window. The cushion felt sticky against his bare legs. The heavy curtains smelled bad when he pulled them back to look at all the big trucks in the parking lot.

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