Didn’t sleep too good.”
Agnes wrings out the washrag and sets it on the edge of the sink. She opens her mouth, like she’s gonna say something, but in the next room, I hear Colt hang up the phone. I turn and yank the door open real fast.
“What’d he say?” I holler.
He don’t answer, so I run out of the bathroom and down the short hall, to the kitchen. He’s standing at the counter, looking tired and running his fingers through his hair.
“Well?” I ask.
“You owe me.” He sighs and shakes his head. “He asked me for money. Can you believe that?”
“ ’Course I can,” I say. “You ain’t gonna give it to him, though.”
“Got to. He made me promise I’d send him a hundred bucks. Was the only way he’d give me the address.”
“Jesus. Colt … I’m sorry.”
“Like I said. You owe me.” He rips a piece of paper out of the notepad next to the telephone, then he hands it to me. “Here you go. Uncle Wayne’s last known address. Dad ain’t talked to him in a while, though, so who knows where he’s at now.”
I look down at the address, but I ain’t heard of the city or street. “Any chance you got a map?” I ask.
He does. One of those big books of maps that people keep in their car on long trips. He bought it before he moved to this place, just in case he got turned around.
I sit down with the book open to the map of Kentucky, carefully looking at the names of every city and town.
“He’s way out east,” I tell Colt and Agnes, who’re sitting on the couch across from me. “Out in the mountains.”
“That’s a long drive,” Colt says.
I take a black marker and, real careful, trace the route from Colt’s apartment to the street where Daddy lives. Or, where we think he lives. The thick black line is long and curvy, part highway, part city streets. Best I can figure, it’ll take nearly four hours to get there. Longer if we hit traffic.
“Can I take this?” I ask, pointing to the map.
“Might as well,” Colt says. “You done marked it up. It’s yours now.”
“Thanks.”
“We’d better get going, then,” Agnes says, getting to her feet. “Want me to take Utah out while you grab our stuff?”
“Uh … yeah. Sure.”
“There’s a grassy area around the side of the building,” Colt tells her. “Need me to help you find it?”
“That’s all right. I’ve got my cane.” It takes her a second to find Utah’s leash, but as soon as she picks it up, the dog runs right to her, ready for a morning pee.
Once they’re out the door, Colt turns to me. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asks.
“What other choice do I got?”
He don’t answer. Because he knows there ain’t no other choice. Not really. Going home’s not an option now. All I can do is keep running.
After a second, he sighs. “Fuck. There really ain’t no winning here, is there?”
I shake my head. “There never is for us.”
He almost smiles. Then he looks down at his bare feet on the carpet. “Bo, you know I’d let you stay here, but—”
“I ain’t gonna do that to you. You finally got out. Got away from all this. I already done enough damage making you call your dad. I can’t drag you down no more.”
He looks up, and I wonder if he recognizes the words I just used. Repeating back what he said to Agnes last night. But if he does, he don’t show it. “I wanted to get you out of there, too,” he says. “It’s always been my plan, you know. To get settled in and … I dunno. Save some money so I could get you out of Mursey, too. Get you away from all that.”
“Well, this is my way of doing it myself. Might not be the best way, but I don’t got another choice.”
He looks like he might argue, but the door opens and Agnes comes back in with Utah.
“All right,” she says. “Are we ready?”
I stand up and tuck the book of maps under my arm. I grab our bags and head toward the front door.
Colt follows me. He gives Agnes a hug that lasts a second too long, and I see
Agnes wrings out the washrag and sets it on the edge of the sink. She opens her mouth, like she’s gonna say something, but in the next room, I hear Colt hang up the phone. I turn and yank the door open real fast.
“What’d he say?” I holler.
He don’t answer, so I run out of the bathroom and down the short hall, to the kitchen. He’s standing at the counter, looking tired and running his fingers through his hair.
“Well?” I ask.
“You owe me.” He sighs and shakes his head. “He asked me for money. Can you believe that?”
“ ’Course I can,” I say. “You ain’t gonna give it to him, though.”
“Got to. He made me promise I’d send him a hundred bucks. Was the only way he’d give me the address.”
“Jesus. Colt … I’m sorry.”
“Like I said. You owe me.” He rips a piece of paper out of the notepad next to the telephone, then he hands it to me. “Here you go. Uncle Wayne’s last known address. Dad ain’t talked to him in a while, though, so who knows where he’s at now.”
I look down at the address, but I ain’t heard of the city or street. “Any chance you got a map?” I ask.
He does. One of those big books of maps that people keep in their car on long trips. He bought it before he moved to this place, just in case he got turned around.
I sit down with the book open to the map of Kentucky, carefully looking at the names of every city and town.
“He’s way out east,” I tell Colt and Agnes, who’re sitting on the couch across from me. “Out in the mountains.”
“That’s a long drive,” Colt says.
I take a black marker and, real careful, trace the route from Colt’s apartment to the street where Daddy lives. Or, where we think he lives. The thick black line is long and curvy, part highway, part city streets. Best I can figure, it’ll take nearly four hours to get there. Longer if we hit traffic.
“Can I take this?” I ask, pointing to the map.
“Might as well,” Colt says. “You done marked it up. It’s yours now.”
“Thanks.”
“We’d better get going, then,” Agnes says, getting to her feet. “Want me to take Utah out while you grab our stuff?”
“Uh … yeah. Sure.”
“There’s a grassy area around the side of the building,” Colt tells her. “Need me to help you find it?”
“That’s all right. I’ve got my cane.” It takes her a second to find Utah’s leash, but as soon as she picks it up, the dog runs right to her, ready for a morning pee.
Once they’re out the door, Colt turns to me. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asks.
“What other choice do I got?”
He don’t answer. Because he knows there ain’t no other choice. Not really. Going home’s not an option now. All I can do is keep running.
After a second, he sighs. “Fuck. There really ain’t no winning here, is there?”
I shake my head. “There never is for us.”
He almost smiles. Then he looks down at his bare feet on the carpet. “Bo, you know I’d let you stay here, but—”
“I ain’t gonna do that to you. You finally got out. Got away from all this. I already done enough damage making you call your dad. I can’t drag you down no more.”
He looks up, and I wonder if he recognizes the words I just used. Repeating back what he said to Agnes last night. But if he does, he don’t show it. “I wanted to get you out of there, too,” he says. “It’s always been my plan, you know. To get settled in and … I dunno. Save some money so I could get you out of Mursey, too. Get you away from all that.”
“Well, this is my way of doing it myself. Might not be the best way, but I don’t got another choice.”
He looks like he might argue, but the door opens and Agnes comes back in with Utah.
“All right,” she says. “Are we ready?”
I stand up and tuck the book of maps under my arm. I grab our bags and head toward the front door.
Colt follows me. He gives Agnes a hug that lasts a second too long, and I see
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