Mystery Canyon?she said.That’s a little on the nose.
And that made me laugh.
I need to make someone disappear, she said. When she saw the shocked look on my face, she said,Don’t worry. The person I want to make disappear isme.
I flick my turn signal and leave St. John. There is a blue paper box holding my sister’s ashes on the front seat next to me.
What, the police had asked, did I want to do with the body?
The collection of bones that used to be Eve?
Who do you recommend?I asked. I had had years and years to research this, and yet I never did.
Are you looking for a cost-effective mortuary?they asked.
I want the nicest one,I said.The one where you would take your kid if they died.
The officer blinked.Okay, she said.Well, then, it would be the Paintbrush Mortuary.
That one, I said.Let’s do that one.
Would you like to cremate her or have her remains placed in a coffin?the mortician asked. He was sorry for me, but he was also in the business of death.You’re the next of kin?
Yes.
You’re theonlykin?
Yes.There are cousins, aunts, uncles, but I didn’t want to get into it. And they didn’t matter, not for this.
I’ll give you this sheet with the rates, he said.But I can arrange for a discount on any of the services. You’re too young to have to go into debt for something like this.
Thank you, I said. I went out to the car and looked at the sheet. I can afford lots of things now. Hope was very generous with my payment for helping her. She added extra as an unintentionally-almost-dying bonus. All of the money makes things easier for me and for what comes next.
My grandma left me her house when she died. It’s small, not fancy, bare-bones and away from town. Not in Spring City itself, where the second-home people and the move-ins have driven up the prices. Still, selling the house would give me enough money for college tuition and room and board. But I couldn’t do it. When I got the job at Sonnet, I locked up the house and moved to the staff tents. I couldn’t sell it, but I also couldn’t live there alone. A little ghost town of my own, made of a single home.
And I couldn’t decide what to do about Eve’s body. I wanted to ask someone about it. I wanted to ask her.
What would you want, Eve?
Would you care?
It’s easy to say,Doesn’t matter, they’re dead, I’m dead, it’s over, but when you are confronted with the disposal of the bones that held your sister up, that used to be covered in flesh that held you, that used to shield a heart that beats, well.
What I wanted was to bundle them up in a blanket and hold them close. To look at them with attention, because her bones are a part of Eve that Eve herself never saw. But I knew that would be strange. I knew I might not ever be able to put them down.
So, cremation. And now, laying her to rest.
It’s dusky, September evening light. Since I’m going to scatter the ashes anyway, I didn’t pay for an urn. All I have is this blue cardboard box, with a number and Eve’s name printed on a label on the outside.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m not taking her to Eden. I want to take Eve someplace she has never been before. I want to take her to someplace whereIhave never been before.
I’m on this road in the desert that I’ve never driven, and I keep going and going. I don’t even know if I’m still in Utah or in Arizona by now.
I might keep going. Colby called. He’s not coming back. “Thank you for covering for me,” he said. “But the situation’s worse than I thought. I’m going to have to stay here and take care of her. She’s going to need me when she comes out.”
“I understand,” I said, because even though Colby leaving changes Sonnet for me, I understand siblings. Colby’s sister overdosed. She lived, and he’s gotten her into rehab.
She lived.
