Welcome! This week we have a picture prompt, and can only use 300 words. We have another episode of Midnight in Central Park. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by!
“Today’s your lucky day,” said Mrs. Plaid as she pushed up from her desk. “We’ve found you a foster home.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah. And a good one. A great one, in fact.”
Anything to get out of that hellhole. “Okay. Where.”
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
I stood up.
“Grab your bag.”
“What about Ma?”
“It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
I didn’t tell her about my bag stashed in the Park. That was my back-up plan. After I knew where they’d bury Ma, I’d take off. No way was I going to be somebody’s fucking charity case. I’d hitch to the west coast. Didn’t know anyone where, but hell, my life here was finished. Might as well start over.
I followed Mrs. Plaid into a building on West End. She rang the doorbell. Sweat started under my arms.
“Hello. I believe you know Jamie, Mrs. Gold?”
“Yes, I do. Come in.”
Holy shit! My teacher! Mrs. Gold? Really?
“This way. You must be hungry,” she said, leading me over to a round table with a tablecloth. There were plates with cheese, fruit and brownies. And a big glass of milk. Whole milk. My mouth watered.
“It’s okay. Here’s a plate.” She handed a china plate with flowers on it. Geez. Ma and I always used paper. She pulled out a chair.
“Sit, Jamie. You’re going to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Gold for a while. Okay?”
I nodded, then eyed the grapes. Don’t remember last time I ate fruit. I snapped a couple off the vine. Damn. They were good.
“Eat something, then we’ll get you settled in your room.”
My room? I had a room?
“It was my son’s, but he’s grown and on his own now.”
I filled the plate and gobbled down the food.