She didn’t say the rest, but Cody didn’t need her to. Without a car, she had no job. The pile of bills on the counter grew a bit each day, her fine for solicitation still needed to be paid, and they now had zero income between them.
They scoured the town in search of work, but there were simply no jobs to be had. The oil and coal booms were long gone, leaving vacant houses and empty businesses. Sometimes it felt like half the town was unemployed, and while Cody knew the numbers couldn’t be quite that high, he also knew there were several people sleeping on benches in the park. No work and no money meant plenty of discontent. The bar on the edge of town seemed to be the only place still making money, and the police were the only people who stayed busy.
Warren was dying, and Cody had no desire to go down with the ship, but he needed to leave in order to make money, and he needed money in order to leave.
“If the world didn’t suck, we’d fall off,” his mom said to him one night.
Cody was beginning to think falling off wouldn’t be so bad.
Nate sent letters full of light and sunshine and love, promising that once they made it to Iowa City, everything would be okay, but Cody felt his hope drying up like the grass on the wind-blown plains. He’d promised himself when he said good-bye to Nate that he’d walk to Iowa if he had to, but that was easier said than done. Rawlins was a hundred miles away. It’d take him more than twenty-four hours to walk to the bus station. He’d need food and water, and a place to stay along the way. There were probably rest stops, but did he really want to sleep on a picnic table, with the last of his cash in his pocket and using all his worldly possessions as a pillow?
And what about his mom? That was the other question that haunted him as he lay awake in the night. Without him, she’d have nobody to help her pay the bills. Then again, without him, she’d have one less mouth to feed. Was he helping her by staying, or only making things worse?
He didn’t want to tell Nate how bad things had become. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe it was wrong. But Nate’s letters were so bright and full of promise, and all Cody had to send back was confirmation that he and his mother were both trash, unable even to pay their bills.
He quit writing to Nate altogether.
Graduation arrived, although Cody didn’t participate. Renting the cap and gown cost money, and there was nobody to cheer for him but his mom. He told himself it didn’t matter. He’d graduated. He had a diploma. Walking down the aisle didn’t actually mean anything.
Except, of course, it did. Somehow, even with his diploma in his hand, he still felt like a failure.
On June first, the phone company discontinued their service due to lack of payment. Although Nate had only called him once since leaving, Cody felt the loss like a hole in his chest. The phone line had been a tenuous connection to his future, and now it was gone. He wrote down the number for the pay phone at the gas station and sent it to Nate in a letter, promising that he’d be there every night at seven o’clock, just in case Nate was able to call.
It felt stupid, but what else could he do?
He and his mom pooled their money to pay the more urgent of the bills. He still had enough for the bus fare, but only barely. On June tenth, he worked up the nerve to knock on Christine Lucero’s door and ask her for a ride to Rawlins.
“I would if I could,” she said, sounding sincere, “but my car broke down last week.” And a few more minutes talking to her was all it took to find out that Jimmy Riordan and Amy Prescott had already left town, headed for new jobs and a new life in Montana.
Cody wasn’t the only one desperate to leave Warren. He wished he’d thought to ask them for a ride earlier. Now, there was nobody left for him to ask.
On June twelfth, he stood by the pay phone at the gas station, wanting a cigarette so badly he could hardly stand it. He hated to spend the money, but at this point, what was the point in saving it? He had no hope of getting to Rawlins, let alone Iowa City.
And then, the phone rang.
Nate had waited to call Cody until he had everything in place—the job, the apartment, his new address and phone number. And then he perched on the metal stool with the tractor seat in Cora’s kitchen, and watched the clock, waiting for eight o’clock. Finally, he picked up the phone and dialed the number. He held the handset to his ear, his heart pounding.
He felt like everything in the world could be made right, if only Cody would answer.
“Hello?”
It was Cody’s voice, although there was a hollowness to that one word that made Nate pause. “It’s me.”
He heard nothing but the shhhhh of the Wyoming wind against the mouthpiece. Nothing else. No answer at all.