Read Online Exit Row by Judi Culbertson - Free Book Online

homes around here.
    But not right around here. As in cities around the world, the area surrounding the airport was desolate. She drove past a gravel pit, a trailer park, and a wealth of rusting farm machinery before she turned onto the larger road that led to town. Soon she was driving by a collection of weathered adobe buildings with turquoise window frames. Turquoise, she knew, was meant to keep the evil spirits away.
    She paused at a blinking light to look down at the car rental street map on her lap. If she were reading it right, she should be able to take Ranchitos to San Antonio to Valverde, south of the plaza. Finally she turned onto a residential street where the houses were narrow and crowded together. She slowed to look at house numbers and stopped in front of a bungalow whose deep blue-green trim had almost peeled away. The front yard was dirt except for two patches of red geraniums in pots beside the foundation. A string of chilies hung on the battered gold door.
    If it meant anything, there was no car parked in the primitive driveway.
    Fiona climbed the wooden steps that protested even her weight and knocked on the door, making the chili ristra bounce against the wood. On a visit to San Antonio, she had been charmed by the rubbery red peppers and brought a string home. They had quickly rotted in the Long Island humidity. Even here a pungent, chalky smell puffed out at her.
    When no one came to the door, she shielded her eyes and peered through the front window. Large paintings that reminded her of maps but done in fantastical pinks and oranges were standing around the floor. So Mrs. Basilea painted a little. There were two wooden chairs and a sagging couch, but no attempts at a decorating scheme.
    â€œEve and Coral ain’t home.”
    She jumped at the voice. Turning, she saw a boy about ten, wearing only denim cutoffs.
    â€œYou scared me!”
    â€œIf you want Eve, she went away. We’re feeding Mr. Briggs.”
    â€œWho’s Mr. Briggs?”
    â€œCat.”
    â€œOh.” She had hoped, briefly, he was some kind of elderly relative who could give her information. “What’s your name?”
    â€œJoey.” He picked a large scab off his elbow and held it between thumb and finger before popping it into his mouth.
    Charming. “And Eve and Coral went to Mexico?”
    â€œNaw.” The boy watched her with knowing black eyes. “ Eve went to Mexico. Coral went back to her dad.”
    Like a needle testing battery power, Fiona’s mind gave a quick jump. “They didn’t both go to Mexico? It’s okay if they did.” Better than okay.
    Joey had picked up some kind of long reed and was drawing in the dirt, writing the answer. “Naw,” he said finally when Fiona did not bend down to read it. “Eve went with Rafe. They didn’t want to take Coral too.”
    â€œWho’s Rafe?”
    The eyes looked wiser. “Her power mower.”
    Fiona had a wild image of Eve putt-putting south along the highway, hair flying, and then she laughed. “You mean her paramour?”
    â€œThat’s what I said. That’s what she calls him.”
    Well . It put a different spin on the idea of a mother absconding across the border with her child. She wondered if Dominick knew about Rafe. Bored artistic wife off to New Mexico, where she meets the man of her dreams. Coral, a golden ball bouncing between them. Except . . .
    â€œDo you know when Coral went home?”
    He screwed up his narrow face. “Sunday. Because we went back to school Monday.”
    School started early out here. “How come you’re not in school today?”
    â€œI’m sick. Want to see my tongue?”
    Before she could look away, she saw that it was coated a repulsive white.
    â€œBye, Joey. Feel better soon.”
    She retraced her way to the main road and considered her plan. A quick stop at Holy Cross Hospital, which showed up as a light blue rectangle on