Page 53 of Evil All Along
My mouse was sneaking down to open upCrime Catsagain when the front door opened.
“Oh, thank God,” I muttered.
Footsteps raced toward the den, and Millie appeared in the doorway. Her usual manic, caffeinated energy seemed to have been compounded—in the sense that she also looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her hair stood up in clumps. Her eyes had a shellshocked look to them. She was wearing a Hastings Rock sweatshirt, pumpkin-print pajama pants, and two—TWO—mismatched slippers that were meant to look like witches.
“Millie, I’m in the middle of writing—” I said (mostly for form’s sake).
“You have to stop him!” Her voice trembled, and she waved a piece of paper at me. “Dash, you have to STOP HIM!”
“Stop who?” Setting the laptop aside, I started to get up, an idea already forming. “What’s—”
“KEME IS LEAVING!”
“What do you mean he’s—”
She shoved the paper into my hands, turned, and ran toward the back of the house, screaming, “INDIRA!”
I mean, I know she was upset, but I swear to God: the houseshook.
That only registered at a distance, though, because I was staring at the paper. I recognized Keme’s blunt little pen strokes, the stiff letters that were so angular and linear, with such complete disregard for lower-case letters, that they could have passed for runes. It was one word. And it wasGOODBYE.
“What’s going on?” Indira asked from the doorway. Her eyes were storm-dark, and she was holding Millie in her arms as Millie wept uncontrollably. “I can’t get a word out of her.”
“Keme,” I said and handed Indira the note.
She looked at it for longer than it took to read the word. She closed her eyes for several seconds, hugging Millie to her. When she opened her eyes, they glistened. Her voice lacked its usual briskness as she said, “I didn’t think…” But she trailed off and didn’t finish.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Goodbye? What does that mean? He can’t leave, can he? I mean, where would he go?”
“He can’t go,” Millie said, pushing herself away from Indira and wiping her nose. “He CAN’T!”
The sound of the front door came again, and Fox appeared in the hallway behind Indira and Millie. “What’s going on? Millie texted me 911—what’s wrong, dear?”
“It’s Keme,” Millie managed before dissolving into another wail.
Indira and I filled Fox in as best we could, but there wasn’t much to say, since none of us knew anything.
“I’ll see if I can find him,” Fox said. “He’s hurting, and he’s not thinking clearly. He needs someone to talk some sense into him.”
“I tried calling him,” Millie said through her sobs. “He won’t answer. I need to talk to him. I just need to talk to him, and then everything will be okay, but he won’t answer.”
“Go with Fox,” Indira said to me. “I’ll stay with Millie in case he decides to come here.”
“Um, why don’t you go with Fox?” I said. “The last couple times I’ve tried to talk to Keme, it hasn’t—well, it hasn’t exactly been a resounding success. I think he needs someone he actually, you know, likes.” I tried to make it sound like a flash of inspiration when I added, “Like you.”
Indira looked at me.
Fox arched both eyebrows.
Millie raised her head andstared.
“You know what?” I said. “We should call Bobby.”
I pulled out my phone and placed the call. And then, because they were all still trying to incinerate me with their eyes, I turned my back on them.
“Are you okay?” Bobby asked. “Hold on; I’ll be right there. I’ve got to tell Tripple I’m leaving.”
“No, Bobby, I’m fine.” I had to stop, because in that moment I recognized that Keme had never known what it felt like to have someone drop everything before you could even open your mouth. It took me a second before I could say, “It’s Keme.”
