Page 103 of Serenity Falls

‘What’s she like?’

Another hesitation. ‘Nice. Normal. Brown hair. Average height. Just nice.’

‘Right. Nice.’

She obviously doesn’t succeed in keeping the edge out of her voice because her dad’s face immediately falls. ‘This is okay, isn’t it, Sadie? Because if it’s not … I can cancel.’

Guilt rushes her. She’s being selfish. Of course her dad should go on a date.

‘No, it’s fine. Honestly.’

Dad holds out his arms and Sadie steps into them, resting her head on his chest. He smells of deodorant and a lingering hint of smoke. He must have sneaked a cigarette before she got back. Normally, Sadie would feel annoyed at him. But right now, the smell is familiar and comforting.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she catches a flash of colour over his shoulder. Her smile fades.

‘Dad?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can we please get rid of those fucking balloons?’

Frankie

Life isn’t fair.

That’s what my gran always says. ‘Everyone’s shit stinks and life isn’t fair. Two things you can count on, Frankie.’

I guess she’s right. It sure isn’t fair that I’m dead and she’s still hobbling around at eighty-seven. Man, that doesn’t seem fair at all.

But I guess no one expects to die. Not even old people. I mean, you must be kinda prepared, but that still doesn’t mean you’re ready. Another thing I remember my gran saying: ‘I know we’ve all got to die, but even now, I still think God will make an exception.’

I guess we all think that. Even when I began to put things together and discovered some of the bad stuff that had happened, I still didn’t think the bad stuff would happen to me. No exceptions, man. It kinda sucks.

Maybe Cash thought the same. Or maybe not. Otherwise, he would never have written the letter.

But I’m getting way too far ahead. I should backtrack, right? Cos right now you don’t know why I’m dead or who the fuck Cash is. Or maybe you do. Maybe other people have been talking.

Man, I wish I had some weed right now. My brain gets hyper, all sorta tangled up. ADHD, the doctor said, but my mom and dad didn’t really believe in that type of ‘Big Pharma’ stuff, so they never gave me my meds. As a kid I was like one of the silver balls in a pinball machine, just bouncing off the walls.

But then I found weed, and it helped. It slowed my brain right down. Maybe too much at times. But it was better than being the human pinball. I liked being mellow. Things that used to drive me crazy didn’t matter so much.

Mom and Dad didn’t know. I got my gear from Eddie, who also worked at the diner, but I reckon he must have got busted because he left Serenity overnight. A moonlight flit, someone said. Or at least, that’s what I believed at the time. Now, I’m not so sure.

But yeah, getting ahead again. So, I’d already gotten a few plants from Eddie, and that’s when I started growing my own. Mom and Dad were kind of old-fashioned – when I told them I was growing my own herbs they didn’t notice I wasn’t exactly growing basil.

Everything was sailing smooth until someone, I don’t even know who, visited and must have recognized the marijuana plants in Mom and Dad’s back yard. So, the shit hit the fan, and Mom and Dad kicked me out.

That’s how I ended up living at my gran’s. She was happy to have the company. I knew she’d had a lodger a while back, but he’d died or something. Mom and Dad were always saying how she couldn’t carry on living in that big house on her own, but I often thought that was just because they wanted to sell the house and get the money for themselves.

Either way, Gran was cool. She didn’t even mind me growing weed and, believe me, she knew exactly what I was growing, even baked a little into her cookies sometimes. ‘For my arthritis,’ she would say.

I was kinda bummed about my folks being all mad and that, but I figured they’d come around eventually. In the meantime, life settled into its usual groove. Work at the diner, smoking some weed, selling some to the high-school and college kids.

Not that I didn’t have aspirations. I mean, I didn’t want to stay in Serenity Falls for ever. Often, in the evening, I’d resolve to send some applications to one of the malls out of town, but inevitably, come morning, I’d find the drive to do it had gone. The fear had crept in. And then I’d start to think that maybe staying in Serenity Falls wasn’t so bad, and living with Gran was kind of sweet cos she didn’t ask for any money. But I needed to do something about the room. The furniture was all heavy and dark, and the bed was in a weird place too.

It takes me a while to get round to doing stuff but, eventually, one weekend I didn’t have a shift at the diner, and I wasn’t too stoned, so I decided I’d move the room around.

Turned out it was a messy hot day that day and Gran’s aircon was, like everything else, a bit old. By the time I’d manhandled the wardrobe across the room, I was almost done. Then a knock came at the door and Gran shuffled in holding a Diet Coke. Like she’d read my mind or something.