Page 58 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
“This place issoboring,” she announced as she arrived.
“We’re going to the gift shop,” Ellis told her, her tone firm. She sighed. “Also, the action park is closed for maintenance, so we can’t go.”
Liv blinked, then shrugged. “Sure. It’s not the only park on the route.”
We were halfway to the gift shop when an adrenaline-inducing thought washed through me, and my eyes moved to the Mustang, where Margaret’s ashes still sat in the back seat, in the tote bag, waiting to begin their own adventure.
“Detour,” I called cheerfully, excitement coating my voice. “Ellis, unlock the car.”
Ellis gave me that critical look as she began to follow. She looked wary as she approached the Mustang and unlocked the door.
I opened the back door and fished out the smaller sandwich bag I had stashed in the tote, along with an unused tablespoon I’d swiped from the kitchen while frantically packing. I could feel Ellis hovering over my shoulder; the tension radiating off her grew by the second as I popped open the larger sandwich bag that held Margaret.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice low and aghast.
“This is the perfect part of Illinois to scatter her,” I said simply, scooping two heaping tablespoons of my deceased grandmother into the smaller bag, careful not to spill any. “I want to scatter her in every state.”
“It’s illegal to just scatter ashes without the right permissions!” Ellis hissed. I could already see her catastrophizing, practically visualizing handcuffs and grand juries.
“No one’s going to know,” I told her airily as I sealed both bags, dumped the spoon back in the tote, and stepped backward, forcing Ellis back as I shut the door.
Liv grinned widely as I headed for the large tree behind Lincoln’s house, and Ellis hurried after me.
“This is the president’s backyard!” she said, outrage coloring her voice.
I rolled my eyes as I came to stand under the tree.
“What if someone sees?” Ellis demanded, hands on her hip.
“No one’s going to see if you stop hissing like a cat and drawing attention to us,” I told her coolly.
Ellis said nothing; she crossed her arms and regarded me disapprovingly. I looked to Liv instead. She seemed a whole lot more optimistic.
“Do you say something?” Liv asked, her voice suddenly gentle, her eyes a little wider. “I’ve never scattered ashes before.”
I bit my lip and eyed the bag in my hand. “I guess so. I only thought this far ahead.”
“How about we don’t say anything, put her back in the car, and leave before we get arrested?” Ellis snapped, lips thin.
I ignored her and looked down at the ashes, taking a breath and trying to control the growing lump in my chest as the gravity of what I was about to do settled in. I was about to leave behind a small piece of her; I hadn’t realized the weight of the choice until I was here, making it.
I knew, though, that Margaret would never want to be kept forever. She wouldn’t want her ashes stored away to be mourned. Scattering was what she wanted, and I knew she would have loved the final journey before the big one in Los Angeles.
I had to honor her wishes and ignore my own feelings.
I cleared my throat. “The first step on the long road ahead,” I said quietly. Liv bowed her head in reverence. Ellis glanced ather, sighed, and bowed her own. “To final adventures and new beginnings.”
I tipped the bag upside down, and like a bad punch line, a breeze drifted through us. The leaves above us danced, and the ashes lifted on the air, some drifting away from us. Some… blew directly into Ellis, just as she lifted her head.
She shrieked, her hand immediately flying to her face as she jumped up and down on the spot, wiping at her face aggressively and coughing like a Victorian-era orphan, as if desperate to dispel the microscopic amount of ash that had hit her.
It seemed a littledramatic.
“You’re going to draw attention,” I whispered, tucking the now-empty bag into my pocket. Liv winced as Ellis coughed and stepped away from her. “Relax.”
It was the wrong thing to say, I realized, as Ellis went completely still. Her icy-green eyes flashed as they met mine; outrage shone in them.
“Relax?” she repeated, hissing my word. “Relax? I just got a taste of your grandmother’s corpse—for the second time!”
