Scared Stiff Read Free Page A

and there was still no sign of Ma.
    I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think of anybody to call. If Pa was here, he’d know what to do, I thought, and I began to be angry. It was his job to take care of us, so why wasn’t he here?
    I made Kenny take his bath and put on his pj’s, and I read him a chapter from Nothing’s Fair in Fifth Grade and then put him to bed.
    He looked up at me gravely. “Rick, why isn’t Ma here?”
    â€œI don’t know, but she’ll come,” I told him.
    â€œSoon?”
    I covered up the teddy bear he always slept with. “Soon,” I promised, but I didn’t believe it.
    If something hadn’t happened, she’d have been here a long time ago.
    I went out and sat in the empty living room and waited, but nobody came.
    Should I call the police? My heart pounded as I thought about it. Finally I got up and went to the telephone. You dialed 911, I knew, and they would send a police officer. If he didn’t figure out right away where Ma was, would hetake Kenny and me away, as an officer had done with Billy?
    But we weren’t abandoned, I told myself fiercely. Ma would never do that. Once, right after Pa left, I’d started to cry, just a little bit. And Ma hugged me and assured me we’d be all right, the three of us, even if Pa didn’t come back.
    â€œI don’t see how he could do it,” I said. “He always said he loved us!”
    â€œHe still loves you and Kenny,” she told me softly, giving me a handkerchief to blow my nose. “It’s only me he doesn’t want to deal with anymore.”
    â€œBut he used to love you too! Did you stop loving him ? How can you stop loving someone?”
    She hugged me again. “It happens sometimes, honey. Nobody wants it to happen, but sometimes it does. I don’t know yet if I’ve stopped loving your pa or not. But Rick, I’m still here, and I’ll always be here for you and Kenny. I promise.”
    Something happened to her, I thought. But what?
    There was a pad beside the telephone, andwhat Ma had written on it jumped out at me before I lifted the receiver.
    Uncle Henry , Ma had written, and there was a number after his name. Message, Mrs. Biggers.
    Uncle Henry, I thought. Yes, he was the one to call. He was about the only relative we had, except for my snooty Aunt Susan, who lives in Philadelphia. She’s Ma’s sister, but she married a rich lawyer that neither Ma or Pa could ever stand, and I only saw them twice. Both times they acted like we weren’t good enough for them, Pa said.
    Uncle Henry didn’t have a telephone of his own. He lived in a remodeled school bus, Ma told us. Uncle Henry was old, and crotchety sometimes, but he was nicer than Aunt Susan, and he lived a lot closer, too, right in our same town in Indiana.
    My fingers were shaking as I dialed the number on the pad.
    Mrs. Biggers was brusque when she told me Uncle Henry wasn’t there. “He works as a night watchman, you know.”
    â€œOh.” I must have sounded as forlorn as I felt.
    â€œYou want me to give him a message?” she asked.
    I swallowed and hesitated. Should I wait until morning to reach Uncle Henry, or should I call the police tonight?
    â€œIs it important?” she asked. And then, sounding more kind, “An emergency?”
    I gulped. “Yes. It’s an emergency. Tell him . . . tell him Rick called. My mom . . . my mom’s disappeared. I think . . . I think something bad has happened to her,” I said.

Chapter Three
    It wasn’t like on TV, where a whole bunch of cops come with their lights flashing and the sirens going.
    Only one officer came up the stairs. He had a notebook and he asked questions and wrote down the answers, but he didn’t seem to think anything really bad had happened to Ma.
    â€œShe may just be visiting a friend,” he suggested.
    I swallowed so hard it