The Tracks by Sally Royer-Derr (little readers TXT) 📕

You’ll know if I need help by the panicked look on my face. Please interject when I start stuttering about this imagined father and his diseased kidney.”

“Will do.”

We walked the hot streets of Somerset. A pretty town, with round globe lights and large bedding displays of flowers, bursting in summer bloom, lining the pathways. An upgrade from our smaller, more run-down town. The roads along the main drag all had tree names. Elm, Maple, Pine. Didn’t take long to find Oak.

Oak trees lined the tight street—how convenient, given its name. We silently moved along. More flowerpots adorned even the side street, at the beginning. But they tapered off as the road continued. Finally, we stood in front of a tall, skinny white row home. 312 Oak Street.

My stomach churned. I didn’t want to go in there, but I knew I had to. I sucked at lying. But that was exactly what I needed to do in order to get information about Tommy’s father. I took a deep breath and slowly walked up the stairs.

“You’ll be fine,” Tommy said. “Just stick to the story we talked about.”

I nodded and rang the doorbell.

***

My knees shook when the door creaked open. A slender blonde woman stared at me. Her cutoff jean shorts and pink tank top were similar to mine, although my shirt wasn’t as tight. She looked exactly like Tommy.

“I’m not buying anything,” she said. “So don’t waste your breath.”

“Uh…no, I’m not selling anything, Maureen,” I said.

Interest flashed in her eyes. “How do you know my name?”

“I need to talk to you. About Joe Tucker.”

Maureen’s hands dropped to her sides. Surprise covered her wilted, but attractive, features. “What?”

I pushed on. I had to if I wanted to keep up my nerve. “I’m Emily. Joe is my uncle. My dad’s brother. I came here to see if you knew where I could find Joe. Can I come in?”

Maureen laughed and shook her head. “Oh, honey. I haven’t known where Joe was for years. If you find him, tell him he’s late with his child support payments. About fifteen years too late.”

“I read about your son. That’s how I found you. I’m sorry about that.”

Maureen nodded. “Yeah, it was too bad. But life goes on. Never knew why he spent so much time on those damn tracks acting stupid. That’s what happens when you act stupid.”

I could easily see who the stupid one was in this situation. If she had any remorse about Tommy’s death, she was hiding it well. Irritation ran through me, seeing her be so casual about it. But I was here for a purpose. I was here for Tommy.

I pushed my hand on the door. “Can I come in for a few minutes?”

She sighed and opened the door wider. “Okay. Just a few minutes. My Pop-Tart is just about ready anyway.”

I followed her into the small, but bright, kitchen. True to her word, the toaster revealed a hot pastry peeking out from its stainless-steel home. She quickly put it on a pale-yellow plate and placed it on the white wooden table in the center of the room. She sat, lit a cigarette, and stared at me.

“Sit down if you want,” she said, taking a bite of her breakfast. “I ain’t got all day to chat, you know. I have to go to work soon. Working the lunch and dinner shift at the diner today.”

I quickly sat across from her. A pile of old newspapers and an ashtray of cigarette butts lay in front of me. I glanced around the room. Tommy stood in the corner, studying his mother. “So, I really need to find Joe. My dad’s real sick. He needs a kidney transplant. Joe’s his last living relative. The doctors say he’s probably a perfect match.”

A flash of sympathy came into Maureen’s tired-looking eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. Never met your father. Didn’t even know Joe had a brother, but that’s a real sad thing. How’d you find me again?”

“I did an internet search. Found that article on Tommy and talked to some of your old neighbors. They said you moved to Somerset.”

“Oh, anyway, I haven’t heard from Joe in years. He used to send me checks every once in a while. And birthday cards to Tommy, sometimes. I never gave them to him, though. I cashed the checks, but I didn’t want anything else from him. Tommy was just like Joe. Thought he was so smart. Smarter than me. Well, I was the one who stuck around. The one who took care of him. But he didn’t care.”

Anger seeped through me listening to her rants. Yeah, she really took care of him. That’s why he spent most of his time down at the tracks. It was the only place he felt safe. I looked to where Tommy had stood moments before. He was gone.

“But you can have the last address I have for him.” She stood. “I kept those cards. I don’t know why, but I did.”

I followed her to a sparsely furnished bedroom off of the kitchen. She walked to the closet and rummaged inside, emerging with an old shoebox.

“I put all my extra junk in this closet when I moved in with John.” She stopped searching through the box. A dreamy look came across her face. “He’s a real nice man.”

“Okay.” I didn’t care what a nice man John was or wasn’t. I just wanted that address.

She continued digging and fished out a faded yellow envelope. “Here. This is it. The last card he sent to Tommy. I think he was ten years old.”

“Why didn’t you give him the cards?”

Maureen frowned and shoved the box back into the small closet. “You sure are a nosy girl. Joe left me when I was pregnant with Tommy. A few birthday cards aren’t going