“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.”
“Are t—”
“Stop.” Casey held up her hand. “I’m not playing that game with you. Now shut up and let me think.”
Thinking didn’t help. Instead of coming up with a solution, she was fighting off the image of Evan in his last moments, the sickening feeling of jackknifing, and the realization that she was penniless in the middle of a state where she had no connections that hadn’t been made within the last twenty-four hours.
They’d walked almost a mile further when Death pulled out a mandolin and started singing.
“Aah!” Casey wrenched the mandolin from Death, and it disintegrated in her hands. “You are so…so…”
“Talented?”
“You call that talent? Terrible rhymes and bad rhythm? What was going to be the last word, anyhow? Before I’m forever what? Five?”
Death sulked. “I hadn’t gotten there yet.”
Casey gave a scream of frustration before setting off in a jog.
“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it,” Death called after her, “maybe I won’t come along!”
Casey was a mile down the road before she stopped and bent over, her hands on her knees. She had to keep going. She couldn’t stop now. She was going to be late for her appointment.
But the sun was warm on her back, the sky was a clear blue, and all she could hear was an airplane, so high in the sky it couldn’t possibly see her.
She stayed, chest heaving, and allowed her tears to fall onto the dusty road.