Sally's Bones (4 page)

Bones's first day of school went remarkably according to plan. Mr. Simplesmith's assessment of the coverage the tree-lined route provided was exact. The abandoned shed proved a perfect haunt for Bones to haunt, and Sally's assumption that no one would miss her at recess was right on the money. Over the next few weeks, she continued to receive the occasional anonymous note, but they had become oddly encouraging, praising her secret-keeping skills and promising no harm would come to her or Bones if they kept up the good work. But still, the threat remained—keep the demon dog a secret or else! Sally had no intention of finding out what that meant.

Meanwhile, Viola Vanderperfect's
Operation: Pretend Sally Doesn't Exist
was in full swing, and Sally quickly turned this most painful indignity into her greatest asset. No one on the playground noticed when Sally ducked into the side alley at recess and didn't return until the end-of-period bell. None of her classmates seemed aware that she had stopped taking the bus to school in favor of walking an illogical and lengthy route. Nobody was the least bit concerned with anything having to do with Sally Simplesmith, and so they missed the fact that, for the first time in years, the usually gloomy girl was happy.

By the third week of Viola's reign, Sally found herself smiling all the time. She had even just about buried the icky feeling caused by merely thinking of her enemy. Sitting in the abandoned shed during recess one day, her skeleton dog cuddled into her lap, Sally marveled at how Viola's plan had backfired. “You know, I think Viola's evilness was actually a blessing.”

Bones growled at the mention of his best friend's nemesis.

“Don't get me wrong,” Sally clarified. “She's still the most vile, villainous, vomitrocious Viola in the universe. I'm just saying, if I have to find a silver lining in all this, it's you.”

“GGGgggrrr-uff!” the canine corpse barked through the plush bone-shaped dog toy he held in his mouth. Sally had given him the toy to make up for her initial fetch faux pas, and it had quickly become Bones's most treasured possession. Smiling at her dearest companion, Sally gave the toy a playful tug.

“It's funny how easy it's been to live off the grid,” she continued. “I mean, at recess, I just have to wait for Viola to do something exciting, like breathe, and everyone's attention turns to her.” Sally regarded a dust bunny in the corner. “But it might be sort of fun to go a little more cloak-and-dagger with it all. You know, to have to be the slightest bit careful that someone might be watching me disappear into—”

The whistle signaling the end of recess blew. “OK, boy. You know the drill.” Bones nimbly leapt from Sally's lap onto the window seat from which he could view her classroom. “Don't forget to keep an eye on me. I'll try to sneak in at least one funny face when I'm sure no one's looking. I think Zeke might've caught me yesterday when I touched my tongue to my nose and crossed my eyes. Good thing he already thinks I'm a freak.” Sally laughed weakly.

Kissing Bones's head, she gave his toy bone a final tug before leaving.

Carefully making her way through the side alley that led to the schoolyard, Sally froze when she noticed a figure lurking in the shadows. To her stomach-churning surprise, it was Viola Vanderperfect.

“Sally, we need to talk.” Viola beckoned the startled girl, who reflexively obeyed. “As you know, my birthday is this weekend.”

“Yeah,” Sally timidly interjected. “It's my birthday too.”

Viola frowned. “Duh! My mother wanted me to plan a joint birthday party with you. Can you believe it?” Sally's heart ached for the kindly mother that was not hers. “Obviously that was never going to happen,” Viola cruelly snorted. “But I did have to promise her that I would invite you to my party.”

Sally felt a small thrill at the prospect of attending what was sure to be the biggest social event of the school year. Despite herself, she smiled.

“Ew, no!” Viola snapped her fingers in Sally's face, bringing her back to reality. “Just because I have to invite you doesn't mean you'll be coming.” Viola thrust a perfumed invitation into Sally's hand. “Call my mother and tell her you won't be able to make it. Tell her you're sick or something.” Viola turned to leave but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard an unexpected voice.

“But I'm not sick,” Sally said.

Viola spun around, a look of shock contorting her features into a horrible mask of disgust and terror. Though Sally had been keeping to herself out of fear of the anonymous note sender, something had changed in her over the past few weeks. She had gained a little bit of confidence, thanks to the unconditional love of a certain new friend. To both girls' surprise, Sally spoke the last words that either would have expected: “Maybe I'll, um, come.”

Viola gasped and clutched her chest. She stopped breathing, and her complexion took on a blue tint. Squeezing her free hand into a fist, she began punching herself in the thigh. Sally was about to run for a teacher when Viola finally exhaled. After smoothing the pleats of her plaid skirt for a full thirty seconds, she recomposed herself and smiled.

“Sally, you're absolutely right. I apologize for being so rude. If you would like to come to my party, by all means, please do. After all, it is your birthday too.” Viola put her arm around Sally's neck and led her from the shadows. “In fact, we really should celebrate your birth as well. How about this afternoon? We can invite everyone at school, including the teachers, and meet at, oh I don't know, the abandoned garbage shed?” Viola's eyes narrowed, and her grip on Sally's neck tightened. “You know the one. It's right outside our classroom. In fact, that's it right over there.”

Sally's stomach plummeted, and she began to sway. Viola steadied her in a headlock. “You think I don't know about your creepy little loser hideaway?” the merciless mean girl whispered. “You've been going there every day at recess.”

“No, I…”

“Relax.” Viola released her grip, and Sally staggered to the wall. “I don't care what you do in there, so long as you're out of my sight. But it sure would be a shame if anyone else found out about it, don't you think?” Behind Viola's angelic smile Sally could have sworn she saw fangs. “Gee, Sally, you don't look so good. Are you sure you're feeling all right?”

Wearily, Sally regarded the cruelest creature on earth. “I…I think I am feeling a little sick.”

“Good girl,” Viola said as she patted Sally on the head. She turned and began to walk away. “Now, don't forget to contact my mother,” she called over her shoulder. “She's having the whole thing catered in the estate's garden, so she'll want an accurate head count by tonight.” Glancing back, she added, “Hope you feel better, Sally.”

Viola returned to the noisy schoolyard, and Sally was once again alone in the alleyway. Running to a nearby garbage can, she managed to pull back her hair just as her nerves overtook her and she threw up.

On the evening of the twenty-ninth, the Simplesmiths celebrated Sally's eleventh birthday. Though she requested dinner at home, her father insisted that they dine out. It had long been their tradition to celebrate big events at the local theme restaurant. It was owned by Vivienne Vanderperfect, who had sent Mr. Simplesmith enough coupons throughout the years to feed an entire village. Painfully aware that Viola would be enjoying her own party at home, Sally felt confident that this was the one time she would be safe from running into her nemesis at the Vanderperfects' establishment.

Sally's one birthday stipulation was that Bones be in attendance. “I wouldn't have anything to celebrate without him,” she whined.

“I thought you might feel that way, Sal. So, I made you something.” Mr. Simplesmith whistled, and Bones trotted into the living room, dragging a black vinyl bag with a bow on it.

Though he had not cut back his long hours at the lab since Bones's arrival, Sally's father had seemed a bit more present when at home. Instead of talking at Sally about his scientific studies, he more frequently asked about his daughter's day. He smiled at her tales of sneaking into the garbage shed and occasionally even laughed at her reenactments of Bones's adorable antics. It was not the relationship Sally had dreamed of, but it certainly was a start.

Sally's father unzipped the top flap of the bag and motioned for Bones to get in.

“It's a carrier. You wear it like a backpack,” Mr. Simplesmith explained. “It has a tinted window panel that Bones can see out of, but people can't see in. I wasn't sure if he needed air, so I added some ventilation flaps just in case. It's a little bulky, I know, but I designed it with equal weight distribution in mind and for maximum comfort for a girl your size.”

Tears filled Sally's eyes. Her father frowned and nervously pinched his thumbs. “Hey, Sal, if it's not what you want—”

Sally threw her arms around her father's neck. “This is the best present ever, Daddy.”

Mr. Simplesmith hugged his daughter tight.

Despite the pouring rain, Miss Muffet's Morsels: Everyone's Favorite Theme Restaurant was packed. Even the private rooms that were normally opened up for busy rushes were booked. The longer the Simplesmiths waited, the more anxious Sally became that someone would discover what lurked inside her fancy new backpack.

When they finally settled into a booth at the back of the restaurant, Sally was too keyed up to even look at the menu.

“Can't decide between Peter Piper's Pickled Pike and the Baa-Baa-Blackened Sheep. What do you think, kiddo?” Mr. Simplesmith's eyes twinkled through his bottle-thick glasses. As stressed out as the situation made Sally, it seemed to have the opposite effect on her father. Seymour was giddy at the thrill of their covert operation. Twice, he even patted Bones's carrier in what seemed like genuine affection.

“They say the best seafood comes from chain restaurants,” Sally offered.

“Then pike it is!” Her father waved for the waiter.

Though Sally had always considered the food bland and the waitstaff embarrassing in their nursery rhyme regalia, tonight at MMM's was different. Thanks to her father's excitement and her dog's presence, Sally gave in to the feeling that this dinner was indeed special. Soon, everything tasted, smelled, and felt better than ever before.

When it came time for dessert, Sally couldn't wait to hear “Happy Birthday” sung just for her. She didn't roll her eyes when two busboys dressed as Jack and Jill offered to fetch them pails of water. She didn't argue when Mr. Simplesmith handed her the plastic tiara he had forced her to wear at every birthday as long as she could remember. She even bounced a little when she detected the glow from a candle headed in her direction.

Grinning as Littles Boy Blue, Bo Peep, and Jack Horner sang “Happy Birthday” in imperfect harmony, Sally slipped her hand into Bones's carrier. She tapped his back to the rhythm of the celebratory song.

Sally and her father were enjoying their cake when the costumed waiters walked by singing “Happy Birthday” again. She turned to see the lucky patron with whom she shared this special day. The door to a private room swung open, and Sally spit out her food. Sitting on a bedazzled throne between Chati Chattercathy and Tommy Gunn was none other than Viola Vanderperfect, donning her own twinkling tiara and touching her cheek in fake surprise that all this trouble had been gone to for her.

“Dad, we have to go.” Sally grabbed Bones's carrier and started for the exit.

“But, Sal, your Pat-a-Cake,” her father protested. When Sally didn't stop, he helplessly added, “I haven't even paid the check yet.”

Sally turned to respond and knocked into one of the Three Blind Mice, who was carrying a second cake to the private party room. Desperate to save the careening confection, the visually impaired rodent lunged and crashed into Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater, who in turn fell over Sally. Bones's carrier skidded across the dining room floor, and the top flap sprang open, releasing the cooped-up cadaver. The birthday cake flew through the air and landed on Sally's head.

Having heard the commotion, Chati Chattercathy was first on the scene. “Sally?” she asked, poised to get the scoop. “What are you—?” Before the gossipy girl could interrogate, something caught her attention that rendered her speechless for the first time in her life.

What appeared to be a dog made out of bones had jumped onto Sally Simplesmith's lap and was frantically licking her face. The creature grinned wildly and wagged its furless tail in delight.

The party guests surrounded Sally and her skeleton pup. No one said a word. When Bones had licked off all the frosting, he turned toward the crowd. They gasped in unison and clutched each other tightly, but no one ran.

For a long time there was only frozen silence. Finally, Bones caught sight of something intriguing and let out a low growl. Sally's eyes landed on Viola, who had moved to the front of the pack. In her arms was Princess Poopsy Von Vanderpoodle, oblivious to what was going on around her. The pampered pup was too busy chewing on a fuzzy toy bone.

Before Sally could stop him, Bones sprung at Viola, who shrieked and dropped the preoccupied poodle. The toy fell from Princess Poopsy's mouth, and Bones scooped it up.

Unlike the people who ran screaming from the dead dog's path, Princess Poopsy was in hot pursuit. She cared only about catching the little thief and engaged in a grand game of chase. Bones could not have been more thrilled.

“What
is
that thing?” Viola screamed at Sally, who was now on her feet. Her mind raced. This was it, everything her father had warned her about was happening, live and in Technicolor. Her only friend in the world had been exposed. Would he be taken from her? The loneliness she would endure would be nothing compared to the unbearable guilt she'd feel at having exposed him to the cruelty of mankind! Would scientists experiment on him in their search for a link between this world and the next? Would religious fanatics cite him as a sign of the coming apocalypse? Would they put him on display at a zoo or, worse yet, make him the spokespuppy for a trendy line of antiaging cosmetics?

Sally surveyed the room. Trembling, she prepared herself for a fight. But something was off. These were not the expressions that had haunted her dreams. The angry mob whose fear had turned to bloodlust was not here. Instead, her classmates and neighbors seemed more intrigued than incensed. At the far end of the dining hall was a group of girls standing on chairs and giggling hysterically every time Bones and Poopsy looped past. When Bones bounced off Miss Muffet's tuffet, they shrieked and clapped.

Nearby, Tommy Gunn cheered the dogs on, rallying the other sixth-grade boys in a chant of, “Go, Skeletor, go!” In a large booth, a family of five resumed eating, as though they were simply taking in some energetic dinner theater. And in the corner stood Sally's father, his hand loosely over his mouth, barely bothering to cover his wide smile.

Sally stood up tall. “That
thing
is my dog,” she told Viola. “His name is Bones, and he happens to like Princess Poopsy's toy.” Sally whistled, and Bones careened around a corner, skidding to a halt by her side.

“Drop it, Bones.” The dog obeyed, and Sally picked up the toy. Princess Poopsy sidled up to her new playmate, whom she now found infinitely more interesting than anything else in the room. Sally handed the poodle the plush bone. Poopsy tossed it back at Bones, hoping for another chase.

“Poopsy, no,” Viola commanded. Poopsy cowered slightly and tucked her tail between her legs.

“I thought I told you to stay away from my party,” Viola whispered so only Sally could hear.

“I thought it was at your house,” Sally replied in a normal voice.

“It was supposed to be in the garden, but it started to rain!” Viola hissed. “We moved it to
my
restaurant. Emphasis on
my!
”

“Last I checked, this was your mother's place,” Sally snapped.

“Last I checked, I told you stay away from anything having to do with me,” Viola spat. “Just look at you. You ruin everything. You really are a freak.” Quietly she added, “Is that why your mother died? Couldn't stand the shame of having you for a daughter anymore?”

Sally flinched. The standoff was over. Viola had won. Sally stared at the ground.

“Come on Bones, let's go,” she finally said, still unable to look anyone in the eye. Slinging the empty carrier over her shoulder, she headed toward the exit.

Bones regarded Viola and Princess Poopsy. With his paw, he shoved the toy bone at the unhappy poodle. Trotting after Sally, he stopped briefly at the door and turned to face his audience. “Grwoof!” he barked once before marching out.

That night, as Sally lay in bed pretending to be asleep, she wondered how things could get any worse. Just then, a chilly wind blew through her partially open bedroom window, and when she got up to close it she noticed a single white envelope taped to the sill. It had her name on it.

I warned you
,
the anonymous note read.
But you didn't listen. I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!

Sally shivered all over. What was she supposed to do? She looked at Bones, sleeping so peacefully on her bed, and suddenly, she knew. No matter the question, the answer was right there before her. She crumpled the note and threw it in the trash. Getting under the covers, she pulled her pup to her, cradling him in her arms. Though she was frightened of what tomorrow might bring, she now understood she could no longer hide from it. Sally Simplesmith didn't want a fight, but if that was what it had come to, she was ready for it.