Don’t Let Me Go(56)

“Hmm,” Rayleen said, setting Grace down on her feet.

“Ow,” Grace said.

“You OK?”

“I hurt my hip. That’s what Billy was so mad about.”

Billy looked up to see Rayleen towering over him, looking down with a soft look of concern in her eyes.

“Are you OK?” she asked. “You look like you have the flu or something.”

“It just took a lot out of me,” he managed to say, the words mushy at their edges.

“Well, I would stay and tell you volumes about how proud I am of you. But my throat is starting to close up. So we’ll have to do this some other time. Come on, Grace, let’s go.”

“Don’t take Grace,” Billy said, at a surprisingly strong volume.

It startled everyone.

“Why not?” Rayleen asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Grace asked.

“Couldn’t you just leave her here for a while? I missed her. Oh, but that’s selfish, isn’t it? You probably missed her, too.”

“No, it’s OK,” Rayleen said. Billy could hear an alarming wheeze growing behind her voice. “I mean, yeah, I did. I missed her. Of course I did. But she can stay here for a while if you want.”

“Thanks,” Billy said.

“But aren’t you worried about…what if her mother…”

“I don’t care. I’m a kidnapper. Call the police.”

Rayleen stood a moment longer, looking down at him. He couldn’t quite read the look on her face, but it didn’t appear to be any type of insult.

“All righty, then,” she said, and turned to go.

“Don’t forget the meeting,” Grace called as Rayleen let herself out. “Tell everybody. We’re having another meeting. Soon.”

“You never told me what—” Rayleen began.

“That’s why you have a meeting,” Grace said. “To tell everybody what the meeting’s about. I told you that once already with the last meeting.”

“Yeah,” Rayleen said. “I guess you did.”

? ? ?

Grace sat on the couch with Billy for a few more hours, watching cartoons on his tiny TV, her head leaned on his shoulder, Mr. Lafferty the Girl Cat between them, where they could both pet her at any time.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Grace said, without bothering to mute the volume on the cartoons. “I’m going to dance at my school.”

Billy was too tired to listen to Grace and the cartoons at the same time. It was just too hard to separate out the sounds. But he was also too tired to say so, or to do anything to try to change it.

So he just asked, “When?”

“Three months.”

“Good. Because we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

She didn’t answer initially. In time Billy looked over to see that he had offended her, or hurt her feelings, or more likely both.

“I do a good time step,” she said, her bottom lip poking out a little farther than usual.

“Yes. You do. But I figured you’d want to do something more elaborate for a big school performance. A person’s first public performance is no small thing. It’s a defining moment. It’s something you’ll not soon forget, let me tell you. But it’s up to you. It’s your performance. Do you want to fall back on the time step because it’s easy and safe and you know it best? Or do you want to really shine?”

Grace stroked the cat’s back in silence for a moment or two. Billy felt as though he could look through her and watch the thoughts spinning in her brain. Tumblers waiting to fall into place.

“I want to shine,” she said at last.

“Good choice,” Billy said.





Grace



Grace stood at the bottom of the stairs, cupped her hands, and let loose with her best (or worst, depending on your prejudice in that area) Grace voice.

“Mrs. Hinman! Hurry up! Don’t be late to the meeting!”

She thought she heard a muffled cry from the stairs, and, in the silence that followed, something hard and noisy began bumping its way down the staircase, one thumpy step at a time.

Grace waited and watched until it came into view. It was a suitcase.

A moment later it was followed by a very spooked-looking girl. Well, lady. But a very young lady. Maybe twenty, or maybe only around eighteen. But definitely spooked. She had long blonde hair and big eyes, and she looked like a nervous horse listening for noises that would make her want to run away.

“You scared me,” the girl-lady said.

“Sorry,” Grace said, but apparently she said it too loud, because the lady jumped again. “Who are you, anyway?”

“I’m moving in,” the girl-lady said. “Upstairs.”

“Oh! You’re moving into the apartment where Mr. Lafferty killed himself!”

The lady’s eyes got wider and more spooked. If such a thing were even possible.

“Somebody killed himself in there?”

“Yeah. Mr. Lafferty,” Grace said, thinking it was weird that she should have to repeat herself so soon. Maybe scared people had trouble holding on to basic information.

“I didn’t know that.”

“And now you do. So, what’s your name?”