Middle of Nowhere Read Online Free

the wrapper down. I took the credit card from my pocket. The note was folded around it and my fingers stuck to the paper as I handed it to him.
    He looked at it with one eyebrow lifted. Then he looked at me the same way and my face got hot. I thought we were goners except just then, Artie reached up with the cigarette wrapper and put it on the counter where it unballed in slow motion.
    â€œHe littered,” Artie said.
    And the clerk smiled. He showed his gold tooth to us, then snatched up the wrapper and tossed it in the garbage.
    â€œAnything else? Scratch and win?” he asked, all friendly now.
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    He swiped the credit card and handed me a pen to sign the receipt.
    â€œShould I sign my name or my mom’s name?” I asked.
    â€œYour name.” He passed the groceries over the counter in two bulging bags. “Good luck.”
    I think he meant the lottery ticket. We scratched it outside the store, and even though we didn’t win anything, I still felt lucky.

    BEFORE BED WE treated ourselves to bread and canned peaches, the bread dipped in the syrup and all soppy with it. It should have been easy to get to sleep because my stomach was finally full. Mom hadn’t come back yet or even called but I was still ten out of ten positive she would be back. Because that was what she promised a long time ago when I was living with the Pennypackers. That she would never leave me again.
    Also, our problems were solved. Our one problem, really. All I had to do was wave the credit card and the door of the Pit Stop Mart would swing open. Food was as good as free now.
    I was too excited to sleep. While Artie snored beside me, I lay thinking of everything else we could buy. Things like clothes or a new toy for Artie. Or a skateboard, not for Artie. I wondered why Mom was always saying we couldn’t afford things when we had this magic card.
    But the next morning, the excited feeling was gone. I woke up remembering back when I was in kindergarten, waiting for Mom to pick me up. That day Mrs. Gill gave me an alphabet puzzle to do. Mom still hadn’t come by the time I finished it, so Mrs. Gill asked if I wanted to help her.
    Did I? I loved helping but hardly ever got the chance. Everybody wanted to be her helper. Now I was the only one there and I hoped so hard that Mom wouldn’t show up before I finished helping.
    My job was to go around the room with a bag of cotton balls. I felt very important taking out a fistful of the soft balls and leaving them on each table.
    â€œWe’re going to make Santas for Christmas,” Mrs. Gill told me.
    Mom didn’t show up and I was glad except that there was nothing else to do after that. Mrs. Gill was writing something in her lesson book so I went over and climbed in her lap. She put the pencil down. It was raining and water was dribbling down the windowpanes. We sat together, watching the drips make patterns on the glass.
    After a few minutes she said, “Curtis, I think we’d better call her.”
    We phoned from the office. Mom didn’t answer. I had the key around my neck in case of emergency and I showed it to Mrs. Gill. She said she would drive me home and wait with me until my mom came back. We lived in a different apartment then and it was a much longer walk to school so I was happy to drive in a car, especially in the rain.
    On the way Mrs. Gill asked me questions. Had my mother ever forgotten me like this before? No. Was there somebody else who was supposed to pick me up? I said Gerry sometimes did. Who was Gerry? He was my mom’s friend. Was he my father? No.
    At the apartment, I unlocked the door and we went inside. Mrs. Gill put on her sad face. That was a game we played at circle time. She would put on a huge fake smile and ask, “What face is this?” “Your happy face!” we would call. Sad face. Mad face. Thinking face. “I don’t see any thinking faces,” she would say when we