Sally's Bones (2 page)

Viola kept her promise and ditched Sally a few blocks from school. “Stay out of my way or it'll be your funeral,” the nasty new girl threatened. By the time Sally had convinced herself that dropping out of the sixth grade was not an option, she was late for class.

“…Ronald, Susannah, Tommy, and Zeke!” Sally entered the classroom just as Viola completed roll call to thunderous applause. Viola ignored the tardy girl, who slipped quietly into the back.

At recess, Chati Chattercathy led a gaggle of girls in recounting for Viola their favorite parts of their first impression of her. “For me,” Chati giggled, “it was when you asked if it was Chati with one
i
or two that I knew we'd be best friends!”

Sally lost control of the ball she was bouncing, and it hit Chati in the head. “Oh my gosh, Chati, I'm so—” Sally never got to finish her apology, for the victim chucked the ball back without ever acknowledging from where it had come. Chati continued her fawning as though she hadn't been interrupted at all.

Though Sally didn't quite click with her classmates, she had never been entirely ignored by them either. Suddenly she was invisible, thanks to a certain strawberry-blond bully who seemed to feed off undivided attention. By the time afternoon assembly rolled around, Sally was so alarmed that she kept looking at her hands, checking to see if she had disappeared completely.

The students of Merryland Middle School shuffled into their assembly seats and began the ritual of attempting to stay awake for the next forty-five minutes. But Sally finally had something to be excited about. The vice principal always read aloud the names of students with upcoming birthdays, and everyone was expected to clap. Sally loved hearing the applause after her name. She pretended that somewhere in the bleachers at least one kid was happy she had been born. This was her birthday month. Sincere or not, the applause would be just the pick-me-up she needed.

“And on the twenty-fifth, Tommy Gunn will turn eleven,” Vice Principal Sergeant droned. While the rest of the students doodled or napped, Sally's excitement kindled, knowing that her name was next. “This year, the twenty-ninth is a very special birthday. In fact, it's two, as a pair of sixth graders shares this date of birth. Please put your hands together for our newest student, Viola Vanderperfect, and…”

The screams and cheers for Viola drowned out Sally's name. Even the jaded eighth graders went wild. Viola had captured the imagination of every kid at Merryland Middle School, and her rapid rise had come at Sally's expense. Though she had always been an outcast, this was the first time Sally felt cast out. As she listened to the applause that was not hers, she realized her life was over.

Sally shoved open the gate to Hope Hill Cemetery. As she trudged up the path, it began to drizzle. She contemplated shielding herself with her backpack, but it was too heavy to lift over her head. She was spent. All she wanted was to be done with it.

The spitting mist turned to heavy drops of water. By the time Sally reached her destination, she was drenched.

Sally collapsed on her mother's grave and recalled the day she had revealed her most secret wish. Patty Simplesmith lay in a hospital bed, hooked up to more machines than Sally cared to remember. Her pale skin had yellowed slightly, and her lips were cracked despite the thirteen tubes of Chapstick that Sally had given her; one for each day spent in this hospital room. “I want to come with you, Mom,” Sally had said softly. She did not look her mother in the eye.

“You can't, baby. Not yet,” Patty whispered. The beeps and clicks of the machines blared over her weakened voice.

“Then when? I don't belong here without you.”

“Yes, you do.” Her mother smiled.

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.

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 mean, 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.