The River of Time

Chapter 2

I moved to Mankato in October of that year. It was raining the day I moved, clouds billowing overhead as Uncle Bobby's old pickup raced down the highway. It was silent in the car. Uncle Bobby kept trying to start a conversation, but I answered every question in as few words as possible. Or didn't answer at all. Finally, he gave up trying to get me to talk and I stared backwards, watching as the Minneapolis skyline grew smaller and smaller and then disappeared from view.

Out the window were rows and rows of corn stretching into the cloudy sunrise. Besides the occasional barn, nothing broke the endless crops. As a city girl, I felt almost angry with this part of the state, the land that everyone associated with the Midwest, when to me Minnesota was concerts and football games and parties.

After I got sick of watching the country go by, I watched my uncle. He kept opening and closing his mouth, as if he was working up the courage to say something again. After a while I couldn't stand it anymore. "What's up?"

"Are you hungry?"

I nodded. I hadn't eaten breakfast. Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten a full meal in weeks. Uncle Bobby took the nearest exit and pulled into the parking lot of a rundown diner. One of those neon OPEN signs flickered in the window, under a banner that proclaimed, "Breakfast served all day!" I pulled open the peeling, used-to-be red door and we went inside.

The restaurant was deathly silent, nothing like we have in the city. An old couple sat in a window booth, methodically cutting up their toast and eggs. A farmer in a baseball cap sipped black coffee and pored over the Star Tribune, pausing every once in a while to comment about the weather. Uncle Bobby and I slid into a booth and waited.

It didn't take long. Within seconds, a girl about my age hurried over to us, smiling despite it being seven in the morning. "Hi, I'm Kristine, may I take your order?" she said, her words tumbling over one another. Probably so excited to see another human being.

"Yes," said Uncle Bobby slowly. "Let's see . . . could I have the bacon and eggs meal, please?"

"You betcha," said Kristine as she jotted it down, and inside I groaned. Another Minnesota stereotype, proven true in the middle of nowhere.

"And for you?" Kristine looked at me.

"Yeah. Um, I'll have the um, pancakes. Maple syrup."

"Alright! And to drink? We have coffee, orange juice, milk . . ."

Uncle Bobby ordered a coffee, and I got some orange juice. The food was ready five minutes later. It was really good, better than anything my mom made. Every once in a while Uncle Bobby would make a comment about something, but otherwise we ate in silence.

The waitress came back to our table. "How you doing? Will that be all for today?" We both nodded, so she collected our dishes. Uncle Bobby handed her $20, which would have barely paid for a meal at some restaurants but out here included about a 100% tip. "Thank you, come again!" she sang as she bounced away, unable to contain her happiness.

The two of us left the little diner and climbed back into the pickup. I didn't tell Uncle Bobby, but I was feeling a little more excited about life now. Even if I was moving to the middle of nowhere, at least the middle of nowhere served good pancakes. Anyway, how could it be worse than my life in St. Paul?

But my heart quickly plummeted back down when Uncle Bobby finally asked the question that up until this point had formed a wall between us.

"Tell me what happened," he said softly as we merged back onto the highway.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean everything. About your family. About why you're coming to live with us."

I took a deep breath, ready to explain, but hesitated. Would it be good to tell him, or would the story of my life just get in the way of starting over? Should he know where I was coming from?

I decided he had to know at least something. I started talking, figuring I would just explain a little, but the words just kept coming and I spit them out in a rush. "My dad . . . he's been drinking a lot. A couple nights ago he came home from work and told us he got fired. My mom started yelling at him and he started yelling back, and then he ran out the door. He came back yesterday, but then he left again. We think he's been living by the river. Last night my mom told me I should go live with you guys because . . . because it will be better. She said next time he comes back they're gonna talk stuff over, I don't know what that means but whatever. So then she called you."

Uncle Bobby nodded. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I figured it was something I didn't really want to know.

I was ambushed by cousins the second I stepped into the house.

My aunt and uncle had four kids, a fact that I had kind of looked over. We didn't really visit with our family anymore, so I hadn't even met most of them. The one I remembered as a baby, Katie, was probably nine. She had wavy brown hair and turquoise glasses and talked fifty miles an hour. "Hi, I'm Katie, I don't remember you but I bet you remember me! Your name's Allie, right? By the way, these are my siblings, Paul, Chris, and Nina." She gestured to each kid.

Chris, a seven-year-old in a Peterson jersey, chucked a football at my head and laughed when it hit me in the face. "No, stupid, you're supposed to catch it!"

Meanwhile, a toddler rubbed her breakfast on my jeans and giggled. "Nina," she said, her big eyes staring up at me in wonder. "Name is called Nina."

I looked around for the fourth one, Paul, expecting him to come slamming into me from behind. But he stood in the kitchen and just watched his siblings rip me apart. I was going to thank him before I saw the look of hatred in the kid's eyes. Like he already despised me before I had even said a word.

Aunt Anne stepped out from the kitchen. "Come here, Nina!" she said in a baby voice. "Katie! Chris! Give your cousin some space!"

Katie took a step back right away, but Chris continued to beat on me. "Chris!" Katie yelled. "Listen to Mom!" Somehow that order led to a fight, and the two of them began screaming at each other.

"Well. Good to see you, Allie! Emotions have been running a little high in this family. Tell you what, why don't you head on down to the basement? We set up the guest room and you can put your things in there." I nodded and grabbed my duffel bag. A little quiet time seemed nice right now.

The guest room was dark. The walls were a deep green, and thick shades covered the windows. I closed and locked the door, then flopped down on my new bed with my iPod. The music, although fast, calmed me, slowed down my heart, erased the worry from my mind until I slept.