the handle of the baby seat over my arm. Left, sheâd said, and then left around the corner. I walked down the street with the car seat bumping against my hip.
I turned the corner. There were two big buses pulled up in front of the bus station.
And two big police officers at the door.
I backed up, turned around and started walking fast up the street. Goddamn Justin. I had to stop for a second so Icould catch my breath. I pressed my cheek against Briannaâs. âItâs okay,â I said. âItâs okay.â I didnât need Justin. I could do this without him.
There was an alley next to the diner, narrow and dark, with a big Dumpster against the wall about halfway down. The Dumpster stank, but not that much, and Iâd smelled worse. There were a couple of wooden things stacked against the wall by the Dumpster. They looked like low wooden platforms. I give them a push with my foot, but they didnât even wobble and they were better than sitting on the ground. I set the car seat down and shifted Brianna from one shoulder to the other. I didnât have anything to wipe her nose with, so I used the edge of my sleeve.
I couldnât believe Justin had ratted me out, but he had, and if I thought about it I was going to be so mad or even cry, and I didnât have time for that. A couple of tears came from somewhere and slipped down my cheek.I rubbed them away with the back of my hand and swallowed the fear creeping up from my stomach.
Okay, so we couldnât take a bus. We could hitch. Iâd walk back up to the highway and weâd find a rideâanywhere, just away from here. Off in the distance I heard a police siren. Were they looking for me? I listened. No, it was going away from here.
Brianna couldnât seem to stop coughing. âItâll be okay,â I told her, tucking the blanket closer around her. âDonât be scared. Theyâre not going to take you away from me.â I was shaking. Not because I was scared. It was just cold in between the Dumpster and the building.
I stood up and the baby puked. All over my sweater, down my back, even in my hair there was baby puke. My stomach flip-flopped, and for a second I was afraid I was going to heave too. I closed my eyes for a moment and started breathing through my mouth. Briannawas crying and, I couldnât help it, so was I.
I cleaned her up with the blanket and a handful of baby wipes. Then I put her in the car seat.
There was barf all over my jacket. And there were only a couple of wipes left in the package. I got the puke out of my hair, but I couldnât clean it off my jacket. I was just going to have to go without it. Weâd just walk fast, out to the highway. I could do this.
I bent down and picked up Brianna again. I stood there, rocking back and forth, and she stopped crying. She smelled like barf, and I could hear every breath she took. And with our faces together I could feel how warm she was.
My tears fell on her cheek. I wiped them away but they kept on coming. I could hear the sirens again. I wanted my own mother. She would know what to do. But the only mother was me.
I rocked Brianna, back and forth, until she fell asleep in my arms. Theonly sound was her breathing. I kissed her, her forehead, her cheek, the top of her head. She was my baby. âNobody loves you like I do,â I whispered. My hands were shaking. Every part of me was shaking. âIâm your real mother,â I told her.
I hooked the back pack over one shoulder and walked down the alley. There were no people around, but I could hear the traffic in the distance out on the highway.
I didnât even stop walking. I was the only mother there was. I crossed the street and turned right. Down toward the lights of the clinic.
Darlene Ryan is the author of
Rules for Life,
an ALA Best Book nominee. Darlene lives in Fredericton, New Brunswick.
Visit her website at www.darleneryan.com
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