A Safe Place for Joey by Mary MacCracken Page A

but that this wasn’t unusual. The school nurse rarely had time to track down the absentees.
    “Could you give me Mrs. Kroner’s work number?” I asked.
    “No. Sorry. That would be down in the file in the main office. I can try to transfer you,” Miss Selby offered. “Let me know if you find out anything.”
    The phone disconnected, and I called back and eventually got Mr. Kroner’swork number. Mrs. Kroner’s wasn’t listed.
    I knew he worked the night shift, but I wasn’t sure when that began. I decided to call early and leave a message so I wouldn’t interrupt his work. By nine o’clock I’d stopped caring about interrupting him and dialed Gare Manufacturing again. I had no idea what kind of work Mr. Kroner did there or how big the business was.
    A man’s voice answeredthe phone, and I asked to speak to Mr. Kroner. I could hear the heavy rhythmic thud of machines in the background.
    “Who’s calling?” the man asked.
    I hesitated. Would Mr. Kroner know my name? I wasn’t sure. Yet he might not like me to identify myself as Eric’s tutor.
    “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 sodifficult 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 theboy 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 tonguethat 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 didlook 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 waslate, 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