The Bear in a Muddy Tutu Read Online Free

father had lost, and wh y no one had gone out and searched for them.
    Quiet again, and Billy Wayne craned his neck toward where Momma sat spread out on a chair at the kitchenette table, the long black phone cord coiled like a skinny snake around her arm.
    “I just don’t wanna go on livin’ most of the time , ” she said. His mother ’ s words scared the little boy. Who would take care of him if she wasn’t livin’? His dad had n’t even answer ed the phone when Billy Wayne got the nerve to call him. Even a dad that yells at you wa s better than one that never wanted to see you.
    After the baby came , and then die d right before its first birthday, Billy Wayne watched his mother go from chubby t o really fat. She stopped doing things outside and always told him she was too tired to play. She had been making Billy Wayne a grilled cheese when the baby slipped under the soapy water in one plugged-up side of the kitchen’s double sink. The other sink was jammed with greasy pans, dirty dishes, and an old rubber duck that had gotten away from the baby . His mother had been rushing from the kitchen to the living room and back ; some real important event had been going on in her soap , enough that she kept shushing Billy Wayne.
    Billy Wayne had been confused by his mother’s screams and crying but did manage to pull a chair over to the stove and twist the knob to “ off ” before the smoldering sandwich caught fire. He wanted to tell his mom it was okay, that he’d help her make another, but she just kept crying and rocking his wet naked little brother , all squeezed up tight in her arms.
    Late that night, Billy Wayne’s mom dragged him out of his bed, and the site of her wild hair and puffy face scared him badly enough that he didn’t dare ask any questions.
    “Come, ” was all she said, and he pulled on his dirty jeans and sweatshirt from the clothes pile as she turned and walked out of his room. He was tugging on one sneaker at a time, hopping on one foot then the other, as he watched her scoop up a wrapped bundle of rags from the kitchen table. She headed out the side door without looking back to see if he was done dressing.
    Billy Wayne followed her down the dark, narrow sidewalk along Second Avenue. A s they crossed Emory and Grand, Billy Wayne was glad there were no cars because she didn’t seem to bother looking anywhere but straight down. They crossed Heck and Bergh streets before coming to the light at Kingsley. She never broke stride, stepping in front of a big black sedan that had to swerve to miss them, the driver hammering his horn and swearing something out his open window. His mom just kept going, and Billy Wayne could now hear the waves and see the low clouds that were lit by the reflecting street lights along Ocean Avenue.
    Clutching the bundle of rags to her chest, Allison Hooduk led her son across the last patch of pavement and on to the deep sand . Halfway to the water, she dropped to her knees with a whimper . Billy Wayne sat down next to her, frightened for his mother, still n ot knowing what she was holding, but knowing it must be mighty important to have made her come down into the sand. Mighty important.
    “Dig a hole, Billy Wayne, ” his mom finally said in a voice he didn’t recognize. It was like the croaking of a frog, all thick and wet. But Billy Wayne obeyed . With his small hands, he pull ed sand toward him in great scoops between his legs .
    A half-hour later , exhausted, his hands burning and stinging from the coarse sand, Billy Wayne could dig no deeper . H e’d reached wet clay about four feet down.
    “I can’t go no more, ” he whispered through dry lips, as he st ood in a hole up to his shoulders. He was thirstier now than he’d ever been in his life, and his back ached like crazy.
    “Come on out. ” H is mom re ach ed to pull him up. Allison Hooduk laid the bundle gently in the sand in front of her and slowly peeled back the layers of baby blankets to expose the