Russell Banks - Rule of the Bone

Anyhow I came out with a bunch of quarters and a handful of small bills and called information in Milwaukee, Wisconsin for Nancy Riley. There was a number listed for N. Riley so I dialed that and a woman answered on the first ring like she’d been sitting beside the phone waiting for her daughter to call. She goes, Hello? and I say, Is this Nancy Riley? and she says yeah and I go, Do you have a little daughter? and she’s all of a sudden wicked suspicious and starts in like what is this and whaddaya want and so on and whaddaya talking about.

My daughter’s with her grandmother, she says. I can tell she’s a pipesucker, you can hear it instantly from the buzz behind her voice like she’s got a lousy speaker.

Froggy’s looking down at her rubber tire sandals all this time and I-Man’s checking out the few customers coming from the store with their grocery carts full of food and he’s offering to push their carts to their car for them, spare-changing in other words but people of course say no real fast, no way they’re going to entrust their precious groceries to this grinning little black dude in floppy shorts and a Come Back To Jamaica tee shirt and a red and green and gold mushroom-shaped Rasta cap on his head with all his dreadlocks curled up inside like mystical thoughts of Jah. Although suddenly this one humpbacked old couple says, Yes, thank you very much young man, and off he goes pushing their cart across the lot one happy Rasta, so you never can tell although in my experience with white people when it comes to dealing with kids and blacks it’s the really old and feeble ones who’re more trusting than the healthy middle-aged and younger people, probably due to the elderlies not having very long to live.

Look, Mrs. Riley, I said to her, I’ve got a little girl here, she’s my friend and she says you’re her mom. Or at least her mom is the same name as you.

There’s silence for a few seconds and I can hear her smoking a cig and wished I had one and promised myself to buy some with Buster’s bucks as soon as I got off.

Cigarettes’ll make you do that, spend other people’s money. Finally she sighs and says, What’s her name? and suddenly I realize that all I know is Froggy so I panic and put my hand over the phone and say, Froggy, what the fuck’s your real name, man?

She takes a minute like she can’t remember herself, then she looks off toward the parking lot and just says Froggy.

C’mon, man, that’s Buster’s name for you. What’s your real name? What name did your mom give you?

Rose, she said.

Wow, I said. Rose. That’s incredible! I wish I’d’ve known that.

Her name’s Rose, I told her mom.

Where’re you calling from? the lady asks. Is she okay? My daughter’s been visiting with her grandmother, I want you to know. That’s where she stays.

Yeah, fucking duh, man.

Are you with the police or anything? You sound like a kid to me, I think you’re just a goddam kid. Some goddam kid screwing around, fucking with my head. I don’t need this.

I am a kid, lady. My name’s Bone and I’m in Plattsburgh, New York. And your daughter Rose ain’t with her grandmother. She’s standing right here beside me and she’s okay if you want to know. She’s with friends now. You oughta talk to her, man. And if you want and she wants I’ll send her home to you on a bus tomorrow no questions asked.

She laughed at that. You will, huh? I think you’re just some kid who wants to fuck with my head. Is this Jerry? I think I probably know you somewhere and you’ve got a weird sense of humor is all. This is Jerry, right? Jerry from over by Madison.

I was starting to hate this bitch. Does the name Buster Brown mean anything to you, man?

That did it. She said, Okay, lemme talk to her, and I handed the phone to Froggy. Rose.

She took the phone and said, Hi, Mom. She didn’t cry or anything. She almost didn’t show any feelings at all, just went on saying like yeah and no and so on while I guess her mom told her various stuff. I really wanted to know what but from the way Rose was acting I couldn’t tell anything. It might’ve been, I’m sorry, please come home, I love you, my child. Or just as easy, Don’t ever call me again, you sonofabitch, you’re nobody’s child. Either way Rose looked and sounded the same.

I-Man circled back and checked in before some more spare-changing and I told him what had happened so far and he just nodded like it didn’t make no nevermind to him which was an expression he liked to use and took off looking for more old people with grocery carts because it looked like he was doing okay. It always surprised me how if people gave I-Man a chance to talk they liked him even though they couldn’t understand him. He was one charming African dude.

Finally Rose passed me the phone and just said, She wants to talk to you.

I held my hand over the mouthpiece and said to her, Everything okay now, Rose? You want to go back there? and she shrugged her shoulders like whatever which was definitely not a good sign. I was starting to feel sorry I’d ever broken Buster’s fifty and gotten her into this. You don’t hafta go back if you don’t want to, I said. But you’ve got to go with somebody. A regular person, I mean. For school and all.

She said, Yeah, I know. It’s okay.

I said to her mom, Wussup.

Listen, I don’t know you from Adam but I guess you’re okay. Is Rosie living with you or your family or something? What’s the deal?

The deal is I’m only a homeless boy you might say and she’s sort of crashing with me and a friend here and we’re like outlaws. She’s too young for that. She’s only a little girl, for chrissake. So I need to find her a real home. And you looked the logical place to start.

Nothing. Just the buzz of her bad speaker.

It’s simple, Mrs. Riley. You’re her mom. And thanks to this guy Buster Brown I happen to have enough money to buy her a ticket to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. If you want me to. She’s willing. What about you?

Still nothing. What an incredible bitch, I’m thinking. What the hell, Rose’s only a little girl and you’re her mom. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

Yeah, she finally said. Then another long silence.

So what about it, Mrs. Riley? Rose told me about her dad being in jail and all. What’s the deal with you?

Yeah, she said. That all sounds great. But c’mon, how’m I gonna pay for her when she gets here though? I’m outa work. I’m sick. You understand what I’m saying? It’s a problem. I’m broke. And I’m sick. Various things.

There was a heavy dragged-out sigh like she was waiting for me to say something sympathetic but I didn’t want to so finally she goes, All right, whyn’t you do that, then. buy her a ticket home to her mother. It’s a good thing to do. right? I need her and she needs me, a kid needs her mother. I mean, I can tell you like her and she likes you, you’re friends, I guess, which is real sweet and all. But I’m her mother. Also, listen, if you want you can put some money in an envelope with her, like when you put her on the bus. In a little pocketbook or something safe. You know? For Rosie. You can probably do that for her. So I can take care of her when she gets here. Like buy her some decent new clothes and so on. Maybe find a better place to live. So she can have her own room. You know what I’m saying? God, I love her. I truly do.

Yeah, okay, I said and then I asked her if she wanted to say anything else to Rose but she said no, that’s fine. Just put her on the Trailways tomorrow morning, she told me and write down the phone number and give it to Rosie so she could call when she got into the Milwaukee station and she’d come down and get her. It wasn’t far, she said. And don’t forget the extra money. So I can buy her some clothes and maybe find a new apartment for her. And it’s summer and we could really use an air conditioner, she said.