The Sweet Dead Life by Joy Preble

Author:Joy Preble
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781616951511
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2013-05-13T21:00:00+00:00

WE WERE PULLING up to Ima Hogg when Casey turned to me. His well-groomed brows pinched toward each other. He made a “hmm” sound. For a second, he looked kind of constipated.

“Casey,” I warned. “You can’t show your wings in the Ima Hogg driveway.”

“What? No. I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

This was not the answer I’d expected. I figured he was daydreaming about Lanie Phelps and how maybe they could do it in the locker room or something. (I meant no disrespect to either of them, but let’s face it. I had recently heard Dave describe Casey’s situation, in between bong hits, as such: “You couldn’t get laid if you were a load of cement.” Neither could Dave, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that this was an accurate description of my brother until the day he died and came back like this. It took some getting used to.)

“What about me?” I rested my hand on the door. I needed to get to class. Someone behind us honked a horn. We were messing up the drop-off rhythm.

“Who would want to hurt you, Jenna? No one. You’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but you’re in the eighth grade. You’re not exactly a threat to mankind. Who would want to hurt Mom? Same answer. She’s not someone people hurt. She’s Holly Samuels, a speech therapist at Oak View Convalescent Home. At least she was. And a mom. No one hurts someone like that. I mean, look at Dr. Renfroe. He still looks out for Mom and she doesn’t even work for him anymore. So here’s what I’m thinking. Dad’s disappearance must be connected somehow. You heard what Mom was saying. I know we both figured she was rambling nonsense, but what if she wasn’t? What if Dad is alive? What if wherever he went or whatever happened to him is the same reason someone went after you? What if it’s the same reason Mom’s so wacked out? Like we were thinking—not just depressed, but something else, maybe.”

Goosebumps rose on my arms. The Merc was still idling in the middle of the drop-off lane. More people had started honking. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the school cop plodding toward us. (For the record: Officer Jenkins weighed in at about two-eighty. If we had a real emergency here at Ima Hogg, he would probably bust a clot before he actually caught up with anyone.) But Casey wasn’t done. He rested a hand on my shoulder to calm me.

“Jenna, I keep going over and over what Mom said. Like, that he’s been trying to contact her, but he has to stay hidden. What if all that’s true? What if something’s been keeping him away? What if he’s scared to come back? So I asked myself: If a guy—if Dad—is totally terrified of something, what’s the one thing you can threaten him with to make him do what you want? What would make him come back? Only one thing as I see it.

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