All Good Children - Catherine Austen [99]
When we break apart, I see Mom watching us and smiling. Ally stands at her side looking angry, like we’ve misbehaved and she wishes there was someone she could tattle to.
Dallas clears his throat and tells Pepper, “Call me Patrick Connors. Just till I get cleaned up.”
Rebecca asks Pepper, “Would you like to ride with them on the way back?”
“Yes. Sure,” Pepper says.
“You’ll follow me home?” Rebecca asks Mom.
“Yes. Whenever you’re ready. Pepper, why don’t you sit up front with me?” Mom asks. “Ally can’t ride with an airbag, and the boys will fight over who sits with you.”
“Daddy is a man, not a boy,” Ally says.
“That’s right, honey,” Mom says.
Pepper does a happy little dance step, like she likes being fought over. Then she hops into the passenger seat beside Mom. “I can tell you about your new life. It’ll take some getting used to.”
“We can withstand anything,” I say.
Dallas climbs in the backseat first, leaving me and Ally outside the car. “Do you want to sit in the middle?” I ask.
“I’ll sit wherever you tell me,” Ally says.
My happiness drains a bit.
“It’ll be okay, Max,” Mom says. “Just give it time. Get in.”
I nod. Ally’s still waiting to be told what to do.
I use one of her rhymes, even though she doesn’t care about those anymore. I use my favorite. It doesn’t leave everything up to chance, like Ally always thought her rhymes did. But it doesn’t make what happens the inevitable outcome of where you start either. It puts the result in the hands of the person choosing.
If I count every word of the rhyme as I say it, it will end with Ally. But if I count every syllable, it will end with me. How it turns out is my decision.
I want her to get in the car first, so I can sit behind Pepper and touch her hair and make Dallas jealous. So I don’t count the syllables. I just count the words, and I hope they’re true. I say, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. All good children go to heaven.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my editor, Sarah Harvey, for enthusiastic support and constructive criticism. Thanks to Dave Desjardins and the Aylmer English Writers’ Group for commenting on early chapters. Special thanks to Tim Wynne-Jones for agreeing to be my first reader. As always, thanks to my children, Sawyer and Daimon, for inspiration through naughtiness and good hearts, and to my husband, Geoff, for paying the mortgage and being so proud of me.
I should also acknowledge Ira Levin and Dav Pilkey, but I swear I did not intend to write this as George and Harold Meet Teen Zombie Nerds in Stepford. It just came out that way.
CATHERINE AUSTEN worked in the conservation movement before becoming a freelance writer. She lives in Quebec with her husband, Geoff, and their children, Sawyer and Daimon. Her first novel with Orca was Walking Backward. To learn more about Catherine and her books, go to catherineausten.com.