A Safe Place for Joey by Mary MacCracken Page B

him and called to see ifyou knew anything.”
    “Well, Mrs. MacCracken, I’d like to help you. I really would, after all you did for us. Frankie’s still doin’ real well. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything, and I really can’t talk more now. Good-bye.”
    Mrs. Tortoni had sounded guarded. Not her usual self. She hadn’t even asked why I was worried about Eric. I had the feeling she knew more than she’d said. Butthere was no point in calling her back, at least not until tomorrow morning.
    By ten o’clock the Tortoni kids would be in school and Frank Senior at the garage. If Mrs. Tortoni was ever going to talk to me, this seemed the most likely time.
    “Hello.” Mrs. Tortoni’s voice seemed a little friendlier.
    I identified myself, and then without actually repeating what Mr. Kroner had said,I implied that I was concerned about Mrs. Kroner as well as Eric.
    “Well, now, look. It’s really kind of you to be thinking about them,” Mrs. Tortoni said. “I know they’d appreciate it and all, but there isn’t anything you can do. Believe me. Now I’ll let you know if something comes up. And Frankie said to be sure and say hello.”
    Late Friday afternoon the phone in my office rang, andI handed the boy I was working with the stopwatch (I always pay a chip for each second I’m on the phone) and picked up the receiver.
    “Mrs. MacCracken. This is Blanche Kroner. I’m sorry to interrupt you.” She spoke in a strained whisper, but her words were clear.
    “That’s all right. I’ve been trying to reach you. How’s Eric?”
    “That’s why I’m calling. He’s all right, but I needsome work for him. I can’t talk over the phone.” Her voice had dropped so I could barely hear her. “What I wondered was if you could come to Grover tomorrow morning and bring work for Eric. I can’t talk anymore. Will you meet me at the Main Street Diner at ten o’clock?”
    She hung up before I could answer.
    That night, when I’d finished work I went through my shelves and closets collectingmaterials that I thought might be helpful to Eric. I wasn’t quite sure what kind of work Mrs. Kroner wanted – or for how long a period – and I couldn’t find a great deal. I made up most of what I used out of my head, but I found a scope and sequence chart, a few readiness workbooks, and a teacher’s manual, and put them in a large manila envelope and took it home with me.
    The next morningI followed the map to Grover, and Main Street was easy to find. The diner was at the far west end of the run-down street.
    Mrs. Kroner had obviously been watching for me, and she came forward and led me to a back booth in the almost empty diner.
    I ordered coffee for both of us and waited for Mrs. Kroner to explain. She wore her usual black cloth coat. She looked thin and tense, certainlynot drunk, but I wasn’t exactly sure what to look for.
    The waitress set our coffee on the red Formica tabletop, and as soon as she left Mrs. Kroner leaned across, reaching out, almost touching my arm.
    “I need work for Eric, like I said. See, I’m leaving this afternoon, and I want him to keep on learning like he’s been doing and you’re the only one I can talk to.” There was a tremendousurgency behind her words, although she spoke in a hoarse whisper.
    “Where are you thinking of going?”
    “I don’t want to talk about that – just going, that’s all.”
    “What about Eric?”
    “He’s going with me. That’s why I need the work.”
    “Mrs. Kroner,” I said. “I think you ought to think about this more. Eric’s been doing so well, making such progress, I don’t think it’sa good idea to take him out of school now. He’s already missed a week. I talked to Miss Selby.”
    Mrs. Kroner leaned toward me, immediately alert. “What did she say?”
    “Nothing. She didn’t know any more than I did.”
    Mrs. Kroner relaxed, but only for a minute.
    “Did you bring the work?” she insisted.
    “Yes.” I put the envelope on the