Three
My heart had sunk to the pit of my stomach after my disastrous conversation with my mother. I didn't want to believe that I had nowhere to go and nobody to turn to but the truth was, I really honest to fucking god was alone. Completely alone. Well except for my pair of little angels. I asked Johnny where he'd like to live; he said 'somewhere with a beach and aeroplanes'. I know they have nice beaches in California so that's where we ended up- over 2000 miles away from Jon and my parents.
I managed to convince some ugly, beady eyes landlord to rent us a place with no deposit. You have no idea how disgusted I felt flirting with that filthy slime ball; I had to shower and scrub vigorously to even begin to feel normal again. Money was tight, too tight. I had to get milk and baby food for Paulie and Johnny needed real meals not the crap he'd been eating on the road. Unfortunately I was no gourmet chef. Beans on toast became our stable. It was real cheap and filled us up and Johnny did enjoy eating beans, lord knows why, I hated them after weeks of nothing but beans.
I got a pretty good job as a waitress at the diner across the street, it wasn't bad money, and the tips were good however the boss was a total jerk. He threw a fit when I suggested I might need the afternoon of cause was Johnny's sick with a fever, so I had to leave him home alone looking after Paulie.
I know, I know you don't have to say it. Fancy leaving a six year old to look after a one-year-old baby, especially when said six year old is sick, but I ask you what could I do? What could I do? I had no choice it was that or lose my job and then where would we be, huh?
Besides our little hovel/ bed-sit was opposite Joe's Diner where I worked, so if anything did happen Johnny could call from the window or come and fetch me. I did ask Mrs Pearson next door to watch the boys but when I asked she smelt like a gin factory so I figured she was probably out cold in her own little shithole-come-flat. I called the flat every hour and ask Johnny how he felt and did he need me to come home. My boss glared at me every time I make the call. If looks could kill, I'd seven types of dead right now. Pushing up the daisies, six feet under, deceased, departed, a late Anna, so to speak.
Anyhow, I made my second to last call of the day and I get no answer. I dial again, panic starting to nibble away at my insides. I called out to June asking her to cover for me for 10mins whilst I nip home. I ran across the street- hell for leather. I almost trip and fall over Mrs Pearson who's passed out in the stair well, there's her vomit across the hall way and up the wall and naturally I slip in it, slamming hard onto the cold bare floor. It stinks of gin and stomach acid and I wonder briefly when the old bat last ate something that didn't come in brown paper bags from the liquor store down the street.
I pushed myself up sliding around in the puke; I almost puked myself the smell was really that bad. I manage to get up wipe my vomit covered hands down the wall and onto my plain blue skirt from a thrift store. I reach my door, number 5, and fumble with the locks again. I call Johnny's name, begging my beloved little boy to answer my call, which he doesn't. Finally after a small lifetime, I get the door open. I see Paulie asleep in his car seat on the floor by the sofa in front of the TV but no Johnny. I stumbled into the kitchen to find him there, dressed in a jeans and a sweater, on the floor curled up in a foetal position. I don't really remember scooping him into my arm but I do remember the incredible heat emanating from his small body. I tried not to panic as striped him down pealing his cloths from his sweaty little frame. I place him in the bath and pour cold water all over him, brushing his hair from his eyes with my least vomity hand. I'm shouting for someone anyone to help me, I need to get him to a hospital but I can't leave him alone as I go call an ambulance.
He's still not awake and he's too hot. I'd told him to drink plenty of water and to only wear a t-shirt. But I suppose being six with a fever he felt cold and wrapped up. I can't believe how stupid I was to leave him like this. I knew he was sick but I had hoped it was just a little flu bug or something. And now my baby could be seriously ill and I'd gone to work! What kind of mother was I anyway? I couldn't wait any longer I wrapped him in a wet towel and carry him half across my shoulder my left arm tightly hugging the back of his thighs. I picked up Paulie who thankfully is in his car seat and still sound asleep, and ran out of the door (carefully avoiding anymore of Mrs Pearson's sick).