Dying to Go Viral

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “Okay, what do we do with the corpse?”

  He grabbed it up and pitched it into the wastepaper basket nearby.

  I winced. “Ew. You’d better go wash your hands.”

  “Why, are they dirty?” He waved his fingers close to my face.

  “Stop. You can’t leave the bird in there either.”

  “I’ll put it in the garage after I shower and dress.”

  I stared into his eyes, dove-grey just like Mom’s.

  “I’m not giving it a funeral, Jade.”

  “Fine. You’re right, the body’s just a shell anyways.” I imagined the bird begging for another chance at life in some bird sanctuary in the sky.

  Mreow! Oreo jumped from my arms, suddenly attracted to the bin. As he touched down, his haunches dropped.

  “You don’t want that bird. Let’s get you some tuna.” At the word tuna, Oreo struggled to stand but he couldn’t make it.

  “Crap, Devon! His back legs have gone.”

  “Uh oh!”

  Oreo dragged himself forward on his front paws and then slumped down again. He turned his head, looking first at his butt and then up at me.

  Mreow!

  I squatted beside him. “You’re too old to chase birds like that.”

  “In his mind, he’s still a kitten,” Devon said, kneeling down beside Oreo on the other side. The cat stretched out now. “Easy boy, just rest.” Stroking Oreo’s side gently, he looked over at me, his dove eyes softer than usual. “Do you want to get that tuna for him?”

  “Good idea.” I went to the kitchen and opened a tin, checking back over my shoulder. Oreo’s ear didn’t even twitch at the hum. I returned quickly and offered the fish to him, straight from the can the way he liked it. His head raised slightly and then dropped down. “He won’t even get up for food.”

  Devon sighed. “Don’t tell Dad—give Oreo a chance. Dad said he would have to put him down if his legs went.”

  “Sure.” I patted Oreo’s head. “Oreo’s been around for as long as I remember.”

  “Mom got him for her birthday a couple years before you were born,” Devon said.

  “You had all that extra time with her,” I grumbled, still patting. Oreo closed his eyes.

  Devon glanced over at me. “Still wasn’t enough.” He shook his head. “But you were awfully little when she died. I did feel bad. I tried to help Dad look after you.” He smiled. “Did he ever need it, too.”

  “Neither of you could do anything with my hair.”

  “What are you talking about? We took you to Hair Croppers with us.”

  “Yeah, a barber. I looked like a boy.”

  “It was a unisex salon.” He reached out and touched my hair. “Turned out okay.”

  Oreo heaved a heavy sigh and Devon turned to him again. “I don’t think I can handle putting him down.” His voice cracked.

  “Maybe Mom wants her cat back,” I told him gently.

  “Yeah, wish I could believe that.” He stood up again. “That she’s out there somewhere on a cloud waiting for all of us.”

  “I know she is.” I wasn’t revealing anything I hadn’t believed before last week.

  “Seriously, you think that?” His eyebrows raised.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to say more.

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Listen, I have to go shower. Aiden’s expecting me in an hour.”

  “It’s okay, I’ll stay with Oreo. Just put the tuna in the fridge and hand me that pillow.”

  Devon pitched it at me and scooped up the tin. “See ya.”

  “Devon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Except for the hair, you’ve always looked after me really well.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re the best brother ever.”

  He hesitated. “Right back at ya, sis!” He headed back into his room, all casual and cool.

  I hid my face in the cushion, not wanting him to catch me crying when he came out.

  After a moment I turned my face toward Oreo and forced myself to stop. Wiping my face with my t-shirt, I reached out and rested my hand on the cat’s side. The rise and fall of his furry chest calmed me till I fell asleep too.

  Sometime later a soft pat on the cheek made me open my eyes. Large yellow eyes stared back at me. A small wet nose pressed up against mine. Oreo’s paw dabbed against my cheek again.

  “How do you feel?” I asked him. “Want some tuna now?” I stood up slowly and so did Oreo on all legs. “Good boy! Way to go!” We walked to the kitchen together. Normally, Oreo would have raced ahead. Still, his back legs held him up and if they hurt, he didn’t give a meow.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I wasn’t sure she had anything to do with his recovery but I knew she was watching. That had to have helped.

  Chapter 17

  DEATHLY SWEET

  I took the open tin of fish from the fridge and set it in front of Oreo. As usual, he nodded as he ate. “Isn’t that better than all those feathers?” He kept nodding so I took that as a yes. “Take it easy today, okay? That was a close call.” More agreement from him. I left so I could shower and get dressed.

  Then I looked through Dad’s closet. Besides a couple pairs of blue jeans and khaki cargo pants, the rest of the slacks and almost all the golf and dress shirts were black. I frowned. Tucked in the far end, I saw one brown top and another faded green sweater. I’d never even seen green on Dad before. But as I pulled that hanger out, I noticed the worn out elbows. Too shabby. I checked the size, medium, and put it back. The label inside the dress-shirt collar read 17 ½ and the other tops were all medium.

  I texted Scratch. Want 2 come shopping?

  U kidding? For sure it wasn’t something we normally did together.

  I have 2 buy Dad a shirt. Need U.

  Ok

  B there soon.

  I checked on Oreo again but he had found a large sun patch in the kitchen and lay stretched out in it, dead asleep.

  I shook my head, then grabbed my skateboard and helmet and headed outside. Gear on, I rode down the hill towards Scratch’s house. It was a fast, smooth ride. When I arrived he was breakfasting on fudge.

  “Mmm. C’mon in. You forgot to take this home.” He waved the piece of fudge he had in his hand. “It’s really good.” I followed him into his kitchen and sat down at the table, where he pushed the glass pan toward me and handed me a knife.

  I sawed off a piece and the sugar dissolved on my tongue. “Oh yeah!” The sweetness tingled through me.

  Mrs. Chalms walked in. “Scratch, if you have to have candy in the morning can you at least have a bowl of cereal first?”

  “Yeah sure. Do you want some?” He held out the tray to her and waved it under her nose “You know you do.”

  His mom shook her head, holding up her hands in defense as she backed away. But then she stopped and smiled. “You are evil.” She stepped forward and took a pretty big piece, groaning as she nibbled at it. Finally, she was done and licked her fingers. “Did you have breakfast yet, Jade?” she asked.

  “Yes, earlier.”

  “Do you want some oatmeal anyway? Steel cut with yogurt and almonds?”

  “Wow, that sounds great.”

  “Not as tasty as that fudge but better for you.” As she took out bowls and filled them from a pot, she explained how she made a large supply of oatmeal on the weekends because the steel cut kind was better for you but took a long time to cook. This way they could nuke some whenever they got up during the week.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Scratch complained. “She doesn’t need cooking lessons.”

  Although I did.

  “Mrs. Chalms,” I changed the subject, “What’s your favourite colour on a guy?” I ate some of the oatmeal and loved it, warm and nutty. Much nicer than cornflakes.

  She stopped and stared at me for a moment, her mouth half open. “Depends. I like things that pick up a person’s eye colour. Why?”

  “Because…” I hesitated. Dad’s eyes were green. I had
the oddest feeling just then. That green sweater hanging in the closet. I bet it was a present from Mom. Which explained why he would keep it even though the elbows were worn. “I want Dad to look nice for the barbecue this evening and all he ever wears is black.”

  “Black can be striking. It goes with everything. Why does he have to look special for tonight? Should I be dressing up? I thought it was casual.”

  “It is.” I frowned for a second. With slightly more than four days on this earth, I didn’t have time to be subtle. “I want Dad to meet someone. At work he only sees other guys.”

  Her mouth dropped open for a second then she closed it again. “You’re a sweet girl.” She said it as though she didn’t take me seriously. “Have a good day.” She kissed Scratch’s cheek. “I’m off to work.”

  Today I will kiss Scratch, too, I told myself. Just for practise.

  Chapter 18

  DRESSED TO KILL

  “Thanks so much for coming shopping with me!” I grabbed my bags from the floor of the bus and then before I could chicken out, kissed Scratch’s cheek. I’d planned to do that all through the stores.

  Each time he’d said “Not that one. It’s too bright,” I’d sighed and pictured me thanking him in exactly this way. Quick and soft like a butterfly, I pulled my lips away before he could even react.

  “Yeah, sure,” he answered. He sounded surprised, baffled even. His cheeks looked a shade pinker.

  Even though this had been my plan, I felt the same way. My lips held the surprise in them long after they’d pulled away. “See you tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  I ran from the bus stop to my house. If a quick peck on Scratch’s cheek felt this wonderful, imagine what a long lingering smooch might feel like against Aiden’s lips. Kissing was great!

  I laid out the tops I bought for Dad on his bed and pulled out his best pair of black jeans. The sales guy had suggested a short-sleeved checked shirt, with some blues and greens in the stripes. I took out all the pins and laid the brighter green t-shirt inside the checked one so Dad would realize he was supposed to layer. Meanwhile Oreo jumped on the bed and padded over all the clothes, curling up on the checked shirt.

  “No, no!” I picked him up. “You’ll get your hair over everything. Then how will Dad look?”

  Hanging from my hands by his armpits, Oreo opened his mouth to show his pointy teeth. He gave his one-note cry, high and angry.

  He was so funny, I pulled him toward me then and cuddled him, whether he liked it or not. I would miss him when I had to leave. I also kissed his head. Why not? More practise. But I had to pull hair from my mouth and it didn’t feel the same at all. I released him from my arms and he walked away, his hind legs stiff but still holding for him.

  Neither Devon nor Dad was around yet, so I rushed to the computer to check out Dad’s status on Glowing Ember. His photo must have worked. It was phenomenal! He had five women blowing him ekisses! I clicked on one of the kisses.

  In order to receive your message from Lovely Woman, you need to purchase our gold membership for only $8.95 a month.

  Okay, I could do that for Dad. I had money left over from shopping. I clicked on Sign Up. Drat. I needed a credit card number. I dashed into Dad’s bedroom hoping that maybe his credit card was still lying there from our birthday dinner on Monday. No such luck. It wasn’t on his tall dresser where we usually leave it.

  I heard a door slam, then Devon’s voice and then Aiden’s. He was here!

  I looked in the mirror over Dad’s dresser. Dad had a small black comb lying there but it just got stuck in my hair when I dragged it through. I pulled the comb out and raked my hair with my fingers instead, hoping for the best as I headed out to greet them.

  “Hi, Devon. Oh Aiden, hi,” I added more softly. It was difficult to pay special attention to Aiden in the way Robin had suggested and yet not have Devon become suspicious.

  “Dad coming late tonight?” Devon asked, heading for the kitchen. Aiden and I followed along.

  “No, but we’re eating at M.M. Robinson’s barbecue.”

  “So you want to grab something here or go out?” Devon asked Aiden, taking some glasses from the cupboard. “We have leftover pizza.” Devon filled the glasses with water.

  “Let’s have the pizza,” Aiden said.

  I looked into his dark eyes for a second, trying to hold on to his gaze just as Robin had done to me.

  Devon slammed into me on his way to the fridge.

  “Ow, watch it.”

  Devon narrowed his eyes; he’d done it on purpose. “You, too,” he murmured.

  I smiled, ignoring his warning. “Dad’s taking us all on a special trip tomorrow. Some service a client provides.”

  “He didn’t tell me and I’m supposed to be working,” Devon said. He took the leftover pizza from the fridge and put it in the microwave on reheat.

  “Maybe he’s planning to work after. This is a client. Maybe he wants to introduce you.”

  “What would be the point of that? I’m leaving next week.” “What if you stayed instead? Helped Dad out.” I sat up on the stool next to Aiden as Devon watched the pizza. “Dad’s so busy at work, he doesn’t have time for a life.”

  “He doesn’t want me to work with him, I’m not skilled enough for Brilliant Graphics.”

  “He said you were creative.” I paused. “He said you just needed some training. What if you took a course at Sheridan College—something in design?”

  “Jade, he’s already paid my tuition at Victoria.”

  “You’re just going to drop out anyway,” Aiden commented helpfully. “He’d lose less money if you cancelled up front.”

  “Such a waste of time, too.” I said. “Honestly, Devon. Life’s too short.” My vision swirled for a second. I saw Mom in front of me, she smiled and then faded out.

  The microwave dinged and Devon took out the pizza.

  I slipped off the stool to give him room to sit. “Why don’t you think about it, Devon? Brilliant Graphics and Son. I can already see the sign.”

  He looked at me for an extra second. Mom’s grey eyes. “And Daughter, too,” he added, tilting his head. “Why not?”

  I nodded, only wishing that could be possible. Then I smiled. “Nah—too long. How about Brilliant Family Graphics.” I grinned wider, knuckling his shoulder. “Huh, huh? You like that one, don’t you.” I turned to leave. “See you guys.” I touched Aiden’s arm. Then I went back into the office and shut the dating service site down before anyone else saw. Maybe Dad wouldn’t need it if things worked out between him and Mrs. Chalms.

  Back in my room, I switched into a short flowered skirt with a yellow top. I didn’t need to wear makeup to meet teachers and the principal, but I wanted to feel sophisticated. This was the closest I’d ever get to high school. It would be my only chance. So I applied eyeliner and mascara almost expertly now and used some lip balm. If only Hailey could see me now.

  Dad came home and I stepped out of the bathroom to say hello. “Dad, I bought you a couple of shirts today.”

  “What’s that black smudge on your forehead? No, there,” he pointed to the right side above his eyebrow when I wiped at the left.

  Mascara? I looked at my finger. Not entirely expertly applied. “Go check on your bed, Dad. And hurry up and get dressed.”

  He walked into his room and then walked out again. “That was nice of you. I don’t know what to say…” He hesitated for a moment and then croaked: “You want me to wear checks?” He seemed stunned. “I’m going to take a shower.” Dad took showers sometimes when he needed to think.

  Oreo came out of Dad’s room and joined me in mine. I lay back on my bed flipping through one of Hailey’s magazines but had to stop when Oreo lay down in the middle of it. I patted him instead and he rewarded me with a contented hum.

  “All set!” Dad called. Then he stepped into my room. His hair was tousled and just a little wet. His eyes did show up more because of the green in his t-shirt. The checks over it softened
the brightness. He stood tall and he was slim. When he smiled, happy wrinkles spread from the corners of his eyes. Mrs. Chalms had to like him. How much better could an old guy get?

  I’d wanted to drive together with Scratch and his mom so the parents got more of a chance to hit it off. They’d met each other over the years, but this time was different. Mrs. Chalms had been available awhile now. Still Dad’s jeep could be messy given all the sign material he carried around. So we went to the school by ourselves, Dad parked, and we walked on the grass to where a bunch of people were gathered around three grills.

  Dad shook hands with the principal, Mrs. Nor, who looked like she was from his era. She had cropped silver hair and was dressed in a jean skirt and jacket. She introduced us to the grade-nine French, math, geography and history teachers. They all looked too young for Dad, except for the history dude who was a guy anyway. None of them seemed good date prospects for Dad.

  So I was relieved to see Mrs. Chalms and Scratch coming towards us. They stopped each step along the way. It looked as though his mom was having trouble with her shoes. Dressed casually, she wore a white scooped shirt and navy capris. On her feet, though, she wore strapless stilettos. The heels kept sinking into the earth.

  “Hello, Kevin,” she said to Dad. Softly, nothing like the way she yelled at Scratch sometimes.

  Dad smiled. “Hi Vanessa, how are you?” For a moment I thought they might hug hello, too much to hope for I suppose. But they did look quite natural together. A few other parents and their grade niners showed up. Scratch and I got ourselves hotdogs while Dad and Mrs. Chalms headed for the burgers.

  We ate as Mrs. Nor made a speech about how lucky we kids were to have such interested parents and how the parents could call any time to find out how we were doing. Just because we were in high school, didn’t mean they had to step out of our lives.

  “Perfect,” Scratch grumbled.

  Then the corn was ready. Scratch and I scored the first cobs while Dad and Scratch’s mom stayed back, together. Things were looking good between them. Finally they joined the line and then stood aside to eat theirs.