Sally rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t. I never have! They’ll never be…They only see me when I’m with…” Sally turned away, not wanting her mother to see the tears she could not stop. Quietly, she added, “If you get to die, then I want to too.”
“Sally!” Mrs. Simplesmith’s voice was suddenly strong. The dying woman, barely able to lift a finger for the past two weeks, gripped her daughter’s wrist. “Sally, promise me you’ll give this life everything you’ve got.”
“Mom…” Sally’s eyes widened, surprised by the frail patient’s sudden vigor. She placed her free hand over her mother’s and squeezed it tightly.
“Promise me!” Patty searched her daughter’s face in desperation.
Sally opened her mouth to assure her mother that she wouldn’t do anything reckless, but when she spoke, her words were full of spite. “Sure, thing, Mom. After you’re gone, I promise to try as hard as I can to be A-OK so long as you promise that when I fail spectacularly and it so totally doesn’t work out, you’ll be able to fix it.”
Sally’s voice grew louder, and she began to tremble. “Yeah,” she continued. “In fact, Mom, promise me that, alive or dead, you’ll always take care of me, that when I need you, you’ll give me whatever I want to make things right, and I’ll live every stupid day to the fullest. If you can promise me that, then we’ve got a deal.”
Sally’s chest heaved, and she looked away from her mother. When her breathing finally calmed, she blushed, embarrassed by her outburst. She had cleared her throat and prepared to apologize when Patty said, “Deal.”
“What?” asked Sally.
“I said, we have a deal,” Patty replied flatly. “Agreed?”
Sally had never known her mother to lie, and she doubted she would start on her deathbed. After a moment of stunned silence, Sally nodded. “OK, Mom. Agreed.”
Loosening her grip on her daughter’s wrist, Patty’s voice grew quiet once more. She managed a weak smile. “Good. Now, why don’t you go eat something, Sal? You’ve been here for hours. You must be hungry, and I need to rest.”
“OK,” Sally agreed. Fearful of upsetting her mother further, she turned to leave.
“Hey! Not so fast,” Patty said. She craned her neck so that her nose stuck up in the air. Leaning down, Sally gently touched her own nose to her mother’s. They wiggled them in unison, a special gesture just for them. “Love you, kid.” Patty smiled. Sally kissed her on the cheek and headed to the cafeteria.
By the time she returned, her mother had died.
Though she cried at the funeral, Sally did not allow her tears to turn bitter. She was determined to keep the promise she had made to her mother, not least because it was the last thing they had ever discussed. Sally would give in to this life and do her best to find others with whom to live it. But after the initial public sympathies died down, she discovered she was more alone than ever. Viola Vanderperfect had been her last hope for the true friend her mother wanted for her. With that dream shattered, Sally decided that there was nothing for her in this life.
I want to come with you, Sally thought as she lay on her mother’s grave. Though it was still raining, the oak tree above provided welcome shelter. Wiping her tearstained face, Sally shimmied her back against her mother’s headstone and addressed the dead.
“I think it’s time you lived up to your end of the bargain,” she whispered. “I tried it your way. It didn’t work, and today was a big old nail in that coffin…no offense.” Thunder cracked, and Sally hugged herself tightly.
“The evidence is clear. The verdict is in. No one cares one bit about me, not like you did. Not half as much as you did.” Sally nestled deeper into the wet earth. “I’m tired of waiting for someone, anyone alive and willing to bother with me. Now it’s time to keep your promise. Give me what I want.” She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with resolve. “Give. Me. Death.”
The wind, which had been frantically howling in the trees, suddenly calmed. The leaves on the branches stilled. For a moment, all sound and movement ceased, and Sally willfully gulped down the rising lump in her throat.
A flash of lightning streaked through the sky and hit the great oak above the grave. Sally saw a blinding white light before everything went black.
Chapter 4
Sally felt a light wind tickle the back of her neck. Facedown in the mud, she instinctively inhaled, and her nose and mouth filled with dirt. Her body jerked backward and she coughed up mounds of soil, frantically clawing muck away from her eyes. She alternated between ravenously sucking in air and violently gagging on it, until her breathing finally became even.
Sally focused on the landscape before her. The giant oak that towered over her mother’s grave had split in two. The headstone was partially crushed by a fallen branch. All around her lay debris. And yet, by some unhappy miracle, Sally was intact. What had happened to her was not death at all. It was simply the continuation of hell on earth.
Sally crawled to the ruined headstone and traced her fingers over the letters that remained. “Patricia Simple…Beloved Moth…Born 19…Died.” Though it stung her throat to speak, Sally thought she might feel comforted by the sound of something other than the howling wind. She did not. Tears turned quickly to heaving sobs. Sally’s body shook in spasms she thought would never cease. She flung herself onto the ruins of her mother’s grave and closed her eyes.
She had been lying motionless for nearly ten minutes when something cool and smooth brushed against her cheek. She sat up with a start. Looking around frantically, she thought she saw a flash of white disappear behind a nearby headstone. She shut her eyes tight. What horrible thing had she called upon herself? Too afraid to move, she remained stock-still, hoping that if she saw no evil, there would be none to fear. But a few moments later, the chilly, hard thing ran across her other cheek. Sally let out a sharp scream and buried her head in her sweater.
“No more,” she shouted. “I’m sorry I wished for something I shouldn’t have. Just leave me alone, please. I’ve had enough!”
For a good long while there was only silence. Sally finally decided she was alone and whatever she had sensed was in her imagination. She nervously smoothed her hair and pushed it behind her ears. Cautiously, she opened her eyes. She saw nothing but the split oak and her mother’s ruined grave before her.
Sally stood up, brushed as much dirt as she could from her damp clothes, and turned to head home. She managed only a single step before she saw the bright-smiling, tail-wagging skeleton dog beaming up at her.
Sally swooned, her knees buckled, and she collapsed in a faint.
The first time Sally regained consciousness, she screamed at the sight of the little dead dog, still panting and grinning by her side. She promptly passed out again. On her second reawakening, Sally stayed conscious long enough to scramble backward, putting some distance between herself and the petrified pooch. Imagining this to be a game, the animal bounded toward the frightened girl, his leathery tongue flapping and his bony tail wagging in delight. As he leapt onto her lap, Sally fainted once more.
The third time Sally came to, the dog had moved farther off and sat with his back to her. He turned his head to confirm that she was awake, then sighed dramatically before lying down in the opposite direction.
Now that the feisty, albeit filleted, Fido was pouting elsewhere, Sally began to process the dearly departed doggie’s sudden appearance. “I guess when I asked for death I could have been more specific,” she muttered to herself. The pup’s remarkably well-preserved floppy ears perked up at the sound of the girl’s voice. He turned to get a better look.
“H-hi, mister, uh, mister bone dog guy, I guess? I’m Sally. Sally Simplesmith.”
The dog raised his snout and sniffed in her direction.
“So, uh, what were you? You know, before you died? You look kinda small.” Sally heard a low growl. “Not in a bad way!” she quickly added. “I mea
n, you still look really strong with that big chest, or, um, exposed rib cage of yours.” Sally whistled as the skeletal dog puffed out his chest, modeling his compact but sturdy physique.
“Wow,” she marveled. “I bet your bark was a lot worse than your bite with that kind of lung capacity.” The animal furrowed his brow and cocked his head to one side, dropping his pancake-shaped ears back. “I mean, when you had lungs, that is. I mean, not that you were all talk and no action either. I mean…what do I mean?”
Regarding Sally through huge, unblinking black eye sockets, the dog sighed and lay down again.
“So, you, uh, like this place?” she asked, changing the subject. “I think it’s pretty nice, for a graveyard. My mom’s buried here. Are you?” The dead dog yawned and rested his chin on the ground.
Sally absently chewed her fingernails. “Well, there’s an achievement. I’ve bored something to death that’s already dead.” Chuckling a little at her own joke, Sally realized that this was the first time she had smiled all day. Soon she was laughing a bit harder, and before long, she was in full-blown hysterics, clutching her stomach and rolling around on the ground.
The cadaverous canine could hold his grudge no longer. Pulsing with the need to play, he ran over to the giggling girl and pawed at her jiggling belly. Before she knew it he had climbed onto her chest and pinned her shoulders to the ground with his front paws.
Sally froze. For a seemingly endless moment, she and the perished pup regarded each other in silence. Then the little dog leaned forward and touched his nose to Sally’s. He wiggled it lightly against hers.
Sally gasped. “My mom used to…” she whispered. Then a smile erupted on her face and she threw her arms around her new pet.
As the clouds cleared and the moon lit the night sky, Sally and her dead dog cuddled, wrestled, and ran all over the graveyard. She was having so much fun that she scarcely remembered how terribly the day had begun. For the first time in a long time, all felt right in the world. But when she came across a pile of littered fried chicken bones and threw one for her new friend to fetch, he turned up his nose and refused to look at her. Immediately she realized her mistake.
“Oh my gosh! I’m sooooo sorry,” Sally offered. “You’re right. It is in poor taste for a dog made of bones to chew on a real one. How about this, instead?” She held out a small stick, and the dead dog panted his approval.
Later, during a game of tag, Sally made a most important discovery. While fleeing from the spirited skeleton, she tripped over a small, flat grass marker and landed in an open grave. “Bones, no!” she cried. The dog skidded to a stop and sat obediently, six feet above.
“Good boy,” she said as she pulled herself out of the grave with the help of some conveniently exposed tree roots. “So, I guess your name is Bones?”
“GGGgggrrrr-uff!” the deceased mutt barked.
“Well, Bones. It’s very nice to meet you,” Sally said as she held out her hand. Bones placed his paw in Sally’s palm and they shook.
As she tickled her new companion’s actual backbone, Sally caught sight of her watch. “Yikes! It’s 7:30, already? I’ve got to get home.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess I have to leave now, Bones. I really wish I didn’t, but…”
“GGGgggrrr-uff! GGGgggrrr-uff!” Bones trotted over to Sally’s backpack, grabbed its strap in his mouth, and lugged it over to her. She bent down to take the bag.
“Thanks—”
“Grwoof,” Bones said as he turned away and dragged the knapsack to the cemetery’s exit. Wagging his tail, he waited for Sally to catch up.
“You’re coming home with me?” she asked, barely able to contain the smile that threatened to overtake her face. “OK! But let’s be careful not to let anyone else see you just yet.”
The dog’s tail froze mid-wag, and his flat, round ears drooped.
“Not that everybody won’t love you once they get to know you, of course,” Sally reassured. She leaned down and pressed her nose to his. “Bones, you’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You’re special, and for the first time in my life I think I might be special too. Let’s just get home so I can introduce you to my dad first. Trust me. OK?”
Bones pushed his snout forward and wiggled it against hers. In a booming voice, he replied, “GGGgggrrr-uff,” and wagged his tail happily once more.
As the new friends prepared to go home for the night, a nearby bush began to shake. Blinded by their happiness, neither Sally nor Bones took notice. Indeed, not once during their entire meet and greet did either of them have any awareness of the hooded figure that lurked in the shadows, studying the duo, listening to their every word.
As Sally and Bones said good-bye to her mother’s grave, the figure decided to let them pass…for now. It was not yet the moment to strike.
The autumn moon shone brightly on the revived girl and her reanimated pet as they walked from the safety of the graveyard into the unknown dangers of the night.
Chapter 5
Mr. Simplesmith’s introduction to his daughter’s new pet did not go according to plan. In part, this was because Sally had no idea how her brainy father and bloodless hound should meet. When she rushed into her house, late for dinner, she muttered something to Bones about hiding in the bushes before closing the door in his face.
As Mr. Simplesmith passed the peas, a harrowing howl caught the absentminded professor’s attention. “What was that?” Sally’s father asked.
“What was what?” Sally replied nervously. “I didn’t hear anything.”
The howling began again.
“Oh, you mean that Ow-wooh-wooh-wooh noise coming from the front yard?” she stalled. “Probably just a squirrel…being eaten…by a bear. I hear it all the time when you’re at the lab. Speaking of which, how was work today? Any earth-shattering breakthroughs? Wow, this chicken looks really great, Dad. Eat up! Yum!” Sally tore at her drumstick, stuffing her mouth with a much-too-large bite.
“Oh, the lab,” replied her father, no longer distracted. “Yes, we made a fascinating discovery today. Remember that fruit fly we named Lance?”
“Ow-wooh-wooh-wooh.” The howling grew louder, coming now from outside the kitchen where the Simplesmiths dined.
“A bear?” Sally’s father murmured as he reached for a pair of barbecue tongs. Holding the makeshift weapon high in the air, he turned the knob of the kitchen door. Sally tried to call out, but the mouthful of chicken betrayed her. She began to choke.
Abandoning the partially open door, Mr. Simplesmith ran to his daughter’s aid. Though he was a brilliant man, Seymour Simplesmith lacked common sense and basic life-saving skills. Leaning over his little girl as she turned blue from lack of oxygen, he helplessly called out, “Somebody, please! Help!”
“GGGgggrrr-ufff!” A compact but speedy little dog-shaped skeleton burst through the still ajar kitchen door. The clever cadaver leapt into the air and landed hard on Sally’s constricted chest. The chunk of chicken dislodged, and Sally gasped herself back to a normal pigmentation. As her father hugged her, Sally began to cry.
“You’re OK, now, Sal,” Mr. Simplesmith reassured. He held his daughter close and stroked her hair.
“Bones! Bones!” Sally wiggled an arm free from her father’s embrace and held it out for her puppy. As the little corpse snuggled into Sally, her father fell backward.
“What is…that?” Mr. Simplesmith pointed with a trembling hand.
“It’s all right, Daddy.” Sally smiled through her tears. “He’s my dog, Bones. I love him and he loves me, and he’s part of this family now. OK?”
In theory, Mr. Simplesmith took no issue with encountering mysteries of the unknown. As a man of science, his life’s work revolved around uncovering the explanations for such phenomena. Indeed, it was this passionate focus that both made him appealing to his late wife and often caused him to walk into walls. However, coming face-to-f
ace with a lifesaving, lifeless dog was something else altogether.
“How did it…? Where did you…?” Sally’s father shook all over.
“I found him at the cemetery.” She hesitated before adding, “I think he was a present from Mom.”
Mr. Simplesmith’s body tensed. “Sally, I told you not to go there. It isn’t a place for a young girl to be. And your mother isn’t even there. It’s just where her body is. It’s not her. She isn’t…” Mr. Simplesmith trailed off, unable to finish his painful thought. His eyes scanned the room for some touchstone with which to tie himself to a reality he could control. He found it curled up in his daughter’s lap. “But this, this thing, here…I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t staying. It isn’t, isn’t—”
“Isn’t what?” Sally shouted. She suddenly felt hot, even though shivers ran through her body. “Isn’t possible? Isn’t real? Look at him. He’s right here, and he just saved my life. He’s mine, and I won’t let you take him away from me just because you don’t like where he came from or can’t figure out why he exists. Or because he reminds you of Mom.” Sally spat the last words, and her father shrank back.
Mr. Simplesmith could only stare at his furious child. His mouth hung open, but no words came. Since Patty’s death, the surviving Simplesmiths had each retreated into their own quiet worlds. Because this was how Seymour preferred to mourn, it wasn’t until this moment that he even considered his daughter might have wanted to grieve differently. When Sally finally calmed, he moved cautiously to sit by her side.
“Sally, I don’t understand this. I don’t know what this is, how it’s possible…” Mr. Simplesmith looked from his daughter to the creature she protected in her lap. “What I do know is that, no matter how much I wish it weren’t the case, your mother is gone.”
“But I’m here,” Sally said tiredly. “And so is Bones. Please don’t take him away from me. Please, Dad. Don’t.” Upon hearing his name, the little skeleton dog looked up at his friend and gave her a kiss. Sally hugged him tightly.
Sally's Bones Page 2
