The Grim Reaper's Dance

doesn’t need to come anywhere near me. She can pretend I don’t exist, okay? And I’ll be gone before she knows it.”

Terry put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “What can I do?”

“To help me?”

“No. To get you to leave. Is it money you want? Other clothes?” He looked at her pink shirt.

“I told you. I have things to do.”

“We can stop you.” His look of determination turned his baby face into something different. Older.

Casey looked straight into his eyes. “Look, Terry. The quicker I get my business done, the quicker I’ll go. Getting in my way is only going to make things harder. Just…let me do what I need to, and I’ll leave you—and Sheryl—alone, forever. Ask Bailey. I told her the same thing.”

“Which is why she was mad.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she likes you. She’s not going to want you to leave.”

“Then Bailey is going to be disappointed.”

Something in Terry’s face changed. He liked the idea of Bailey not getting what she wanted. And of Casey leaving.

Casey stood. “I think you should go now.”

“But…I want to help.”

“Sure. Great.”

“Really. If helping you will make you go away, then that’s what I’ll do.” His face reverted to its usual softness. “Just don’t tell Sheryl, okay? Or Bailey.”

Casey looked at Death, who had pulled out a new rubber band and was twanging it. “I won’t tell. And I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

Terry had to accept this. He got his bike and wheeled it to the door. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“What are you bringing?”

He shrugged. “It might just be store-bought cookies this time. I have to go home and take a nap.”

“I wondered when you guys slept.”

“I tell my folks school wears me out. They believe me.”

Or they pretended to and worried secretly about what their son was doing that they didn’t know about.

Casey followed him outside. “See you then.”

“You won’t say anything about—”

“You were never here.”

Casey and Death watched as Terry rode away, heading back toward town.

“That boy’s in for a lot of heartache,” Death said. The rubber band was silent now.

“They all are,” Casey said. “It’s part of growing up. The sad part is, it will probably never go away.”

Chapter Twelve

“I don’t know,” Death said, head cocked. “I think I liked you better as a brunette.”

Casey peered into the little mirror Bailey had bought. Her hair now matched the black velvet curtains in Bailey’s room. It couldn’t be any darker. Underneath it, her face looked like ivory. Or like she spent her days in a coffin. “It’s not permanent. I hope.”

“Try the lipstick.”

Casey pulled out the tube. “At least she found me a real color for this. Not black, like she wears.”

“It’s cute on her.”

“Yeah, you would think so.” She colored her lips, and rubbed them together. “Not too bad.”

Death considered it. “A little light for you, but it goes with the pink shirt.”

“I’m not going to be wearing the pink shirt.”

“Right. Blue scrubs. Very attractive.”

Casey clenched her jaw. “I’m not trying to be attractive. I’m trying to be different.”

“You know they’re going to recognize you anyway.”

“Thanks for the optimism.”

“Hey, think about who you’re talking to.”

Casey looked at the rest of the cosmetics in the bag. “To be continued.”

“Aw, you’re not going to finish?”

She wiped the lipstick off with a tissue—also provided by Bailey, who obviously spent a lot of time with make-up. “Davey and his son-in-law don’t need to see the new me. The less people who do, the better.”

“They’re going to see the hair.”

Casey grabbed the cap she’d put on in Bailey’s car and jammed it on her head, shoving all of her hair up into it. “Better?”

“Some. You’ve still got the little stringy ones at your neck.”

“They’re not going to be thinking about my hair. They’re men.”

“True.”

Casey grabbed the bag with Evan’s papers. “So, are you coming?”

“You’re walking?”

“How else am I going to get there?”

Death huffed. “You should’ve asked Bailey for a bike.”

“Yeah, in-between running from her dad and skipping school and taking me to the store, she has lots of time for that.”

“I’m just saying…”

Casey made sure there were no people or tractors in sight and slipped out of the shed, starting down the lane.

“You know where you’re going?” Death skipped past her, then walked backwards in front of her.

“I called Southwest Trucking and got directions while Bailey was in the Family Dollar.

“So they know we’re coming?”

“No, they know some guy named Bob from a paper company is coming.”

“Oh.” Death stopped, perplexed. “But how did you know a guy named Bob was going?”

Casey angled around Death and kept walking. “He’s not! I mean, I made him up. What is wrong with you? Are you going senile?”

Death caught up with her. “I don’t think so. But it has been ages since I’ve taken a vacation.”

Casey gasped and clasped her hands together. “Well, then, don’t you think now would be the perfect time? Go! Vacate!”

Death made a face. “You are so weird.”

When they got to the road, Casey turned east. “I’m wondering. Do I show Davey’s son-in-law everything?”

“If you want complete answers I would think you’d have to.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to—”

“—get him in trouble? Casey, darling, you have got to stop worrying about that, or you’re never going to get anywhere in life.”

“I’m just trying to—”

“—be thoughtful?” Death gave a raspberry. “Do you think these people have no brains of their own? They want to help, and you’re making it awfully difficult.”

“I just—”

“You just, you just, you just… You’re as pathetic as that fat boy.”

“Am not.”