Casey Barnes Eponymous

19



“You scared me,” Leigh whimpered.

“Not sorry,” Casey said, “Mind me asking what you’re doing here and how you got in?”

“The screen door to the basement was open. You guys always leave it open and then your mom locks it before everyone goes to bed at night.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you told me once. And I told you that was a stupid idea. Suburban home invasions are growing more and more common, you know.”

“You don’t say.”

“Is anyone else here? I haven’t heard voices for ages aside from the T.V. Also, I’m starving,” Leigh said.

“You still didn’t answer my first question.”

“You were having frozen fried chicken for dinner, weren’t you?”

“What are you doing here, Leigh Robinson?”

Leigh sighed and stood up. “Well the thing is…”

Casey cleared her throat. “That’s one sentence you’re going to need to finish before gaining access to the edibles.”

“I’m running away.”



Twenty minutes later Leigh’s mouth was full of heated up frozen fried chicken. Thus when she said, “It’s in Massachusetts,” the ‘Massachusetts’ sounded more like ‘Massa-juice-bits.’ But Casey heard it alright. Leigh’s parents, on the heels of her dastardly deed in Los Angeles, were sending her to a boarding school in Massachusetts for troubled teens.

Casey shook her head. “Seems a bit drastic for a tiny roach clip. Don’t you think?”

Leigh swallowed. “Um, yeah. Seems evil and torturous.”

“Did you try negotiating?”

“My parents don’t negotiate. Strawberry Shortcake wallpaper. Remember?”

Casey grimaced at the memory of that one. When Leigh was ten her mother wallpapered her room with a horrid pink and white wallpaper that featured a little girl holding strawberries. It wasn’t Strawberry Shortcake per se but the resemblance was close enough that most visitors to the room thought it was. When Leigh entered junior high she begged her mother to take the wallpaper down. Her mother refused. Leigh even offered to do it herself and paint the room with babysitting money. Again her mother refused. It was only when Leigh and Casey devised a method for getting a layer of mold to grow under the wallpaper by way of water guns and a humidifier that Leigh’s mother felt compelled to take it down.

Casey started to ask Leigh why it didn’t occur to her that bringing a roach clip into a bedroom with Strawberry Shortcake wallpaper in its recent memory bank was ever anything but a debacle of an idea. But then she thought better of it. “It still seems like an unjust sentence for a first-time offender,” she said.

Leigh took another bite of chicken. “They said it’s because of the roach clip. If it was just the concert they might not have sent me to boarding school but the clip’s what did it.”

“Do your parents have any idea what goes on at boarding school? Roach clips are like barrettes.”

“Not at this boarding school. This one’s for kids who are in trouble.”

“So what, are they going to put a monitoring bracelet on you or something?”

Leigh made a face and pushed the plate away from her.

“You of all people do not belong at a school like that,” Casey continued, “You do extra credit.”

Leigh lay her head on the counter. “They’re going to skin me alive and make a wig out of my hair.”

“Nah. More likely the kids’ll steal your stuff and force you to get addicted to the real drugs that got them sent there. Then you’ll have to go somewhere even worse. Ever seen those T.V. exposés on boot camps for screwed up kids? The ones where kids die like once a year from dehydration and inadequate footwear? Dude that’s where you’re headed next.”

Leigh banged her head on the counter.

“The good news is that you probably won’t have to take finals if you start midway through the semester,” Casey concluded.

“Maybe we should just not talk about it for a few minutes.”

“There might be cute guys.”

Leigh’s face softened. But then she looked upset again. “Cute rapists and murderers.”

It suddenly hit Casey that Leigh going to boarding school meant she would, technically, no longer have any friends at Walton. “You know the more I think about it the more it occurs to me this whole boarding school idea is not in your best interest.”

“No shit,” Leigh said.

“We’ll come up with a plan B.”

“What?”

Casey paused. “I have no idea.”





20



A playlist for Le Runaway Extraordinnaire Leigh Robinson – 9.26.10

1. Song 1 - “She’s Leaving Home” by The Beatles*. *But of course you knew that, right? If you didn’t know that was a Beatles song well then THAT would be reason to ground an otherwise innocuously mannered adolescent. But here’s something you probably didn’t know: Paul McCartney wrote the lyrics for it after he read a piece in the newspaper about a runaway girl. (In real life the guy the girl ran away with was a croupier, NOT a man from the motor trade.) The weird-funny part is that Paul McCartney had actually already MET this girl. She was a dance contestant on a televised band show he and the Beatles played on a few years before. !

2. Song 2 - “Static” by Jawbox. My BANDMATE Ben mentioned this song two days ago at BAND practice. That’s right, band practice. Did I happen to mention to you that I’m in a rock band? Anyway even though Ben can be wicked I went home and downloaded it and liked. Even if they did go to Georgetown.

3. Son--

“Hey.”

Casey’s hand slipped. She gulped and looked up. It was her library period and Alex Deal was, suddenly, standing in front of her. “I’m sorry but there will be no autographs today,” she said. “If you’re desperate you can try going through the label or management.”

“You guys still trying out for talent show?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Is the pope Catholic?”

“You didn’t seem so sure about the whole deal a couple of days ago.”

“My poker face is the stuff of legend. We’re auditioning alright. And once we do, this school will never be the same.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure as thunder.”

He paused and she sensed he was trying to make his mind up about something. “Can I stop by your band practice today?” he asked.

“Um.”

His green eyes were soft and imploring. Clearly pretending to be interested in her band was his way of trying to get her back.

“Meet us by the front door after classes,” she said.



At lunch Yull made the rare move of not going out with the most popular kids in the school but, rather, finding his kid sister in the cafeteria, where she had been eating alone up until five minutes prior, at which point Ben had joined her.

Yull sat. “Hi,” he said to Ben.

“What’s up--?” Ben began to respond.

Before he could finish Yull turned back to Casey. “Question.”

“Yes, dear brother?”

“Why was Leigh sleeping in the basement bedroom when I went down this morning to get my blue sweater?”

Yull’s class schedule began an hour earlier than Casey so they never saw each other in the morning.

Casey tapped her finger to her temple. “That’s an interesting question. But are you sure you saw her and not the dog?”

“The dog died three years ago.”

“That’s true. But perhaps you were sleepwalking and got confused because you thought you saw the dog.”

Yull frowned. “What the hell are you talking about, Casey?”

“That’s a maroon sweater you’re wearing, bro.”

“The blue one had a hole in it.”

“See what I mean?”

“Casey!”

Ben’s head, which had been moving back and forth between Barneses as they spoke, started.

“Why did Leigh sleep in the basement?” Yull snapped.

She sighed. “Because she’s seeking refuge in our good home, and any attempt to turn her into parental authority will get you blacklisted to Amnesty International watchdogs faster than you can say Pol Pot.”

“Refuge?”

“She ran away from home. Her parents are going to send her to a boarding school in Massachusetts where capital punishment is permissible.”

“Are you serious?”

“About the boarding school bit? Yessirree Bob. I’m not one hundred percent sure about capital punishment but if I had to lay bucks down on that one I would.”

“They’re sending her to boarding school because of the roach clip?”

“Affirmative.”

Yull shook his head. “That’s lame. But she can’t just stay in the basement. They’re going to come looking for her.”

“Evidently that thought hadn’t occurred to the fearless front woman,” Ben said.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” Casey said to Ben. He held up his middle finger and tapped it to his temple.

“You think Mom’s not gonna know there’s another person living under her own roof?” Yull asked.

Casey waved a hand in the air. “Please. Keeping a secret from that over-programmed workaholic’s as easy as drinking water.”

“This is not going to end well,” Yull said.

“What am I supposed to do? Stand by and let my best friend get shipped off to hell?”

“Has she attempted swaying the ruling of her elders with freshly baked pies and cookies?” Ben asked.

“Good idea,” Casey said, “I’ll mention it.”

Yull sighed. “She better remember to hide from the cleaning lady. Today’s her day, you know.”

She nodded. “The stowaway was informed. She plans to loiter in the public library during household cleaning hours.”

“I’d come up with another plan sooner rather than later if I were you,” Yull said.

“Don’t you have refueling to do?” Casey asked, “Surely you didn’t skip lunch out just to talk with me.”

“Of course not. I have a test next period and I want to study.”

“Oh.” As a matter of fact she had been thinking he had skipped lunch out just to talk to her.

“Which reminds me that I have to do the same now,” Ben said. “See you guys after school?” Both looked to Yull expectantly.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I can give you guys a ride again.”

Ben got up and left.

“One more thing,” Yull added.

“Yes?” Casey said.

“Why’s Alex Deal coming to your band practice today?”

“Excuse me?” she asked coyly.

Yull wasn’t buying it. “I just saw him in the hall. He said he’s going to stop by.”

“He came into the library and was asking all about my band…” The unimpressed look on Yull’s face caused her to hesitate. “Then he asked if he could stop by band practice.”

“Casey.”

“You don’t him that well, Yull. He was being really nice.”

“Because he knows only two bands are being accepted into talent show this year. He wants to check out the competition so he can report back to his bandmates. Maybe they’re even deciding which songs to audition with based on what you guys are doing.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” she sniffed.

“Oh yes he would.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re evil?”

“Other than you?” he said, “No.”



In math class, Maxine French turned around one hundred and eighty degrees and peered at Casey. They were supposed to be doing problems in workbooks. Casey was reading the Rolling Stone hidden inside hers. She shook her head. “Not now, Max. This math problem’s really busting my gut and if I break my concentration now I’ll never get it.”

Maxine plucked the Rolling Stone out. “Newsflash. Articles about pop culture don’t contain algorithms.” Casey took the magazine back and stuck it inside her workbook. “I heard Alex is going to your little practice today,” Maxine added.

Casey commanded her eyes not to move from the page in front of her. She used her index finger to spell FUFUFU out on it. “I think he said something about stopping by.”

“You think?” Maxine repeated. Casey did not reply. “I happen to know he did,” she continued, “He told me he was going to go there first because that’s why he’s going to be late to my place.” She turned back around.

Casey got the same sensation that struck her when her iPod ran out of juice and it was hours before she could access a charger. “May you die listening to Muzak,” she muttered.



When Casey rounded the corner into the main hall with Sukh after English class, the first thing she saw was Ben. He was standing by the front door alone. Then the following happened:

1. Yull exited the college office, which was only a few feet away, and went over to Ben.

2. Casey and Sukh reached Ben and Yull and Yull said, “Are we all here?” in a way that only Casey knew contained a taunt.

3. Alex Deal rounded the corner from the other side of the main hall and walked up to Casey. “You guys all going in one car? I can take a couple of you too.”

4. There was a silent and confused pause. It was most especially evident on Ben’s face.

“What are you talking about?” Ben asked.

Alex looked at Casey. “She said it’d be okay if I stopped by your band practice today.”

“Is that so?” Ben asked.

“Are you going to be playing music with us?” Sukh asked. Yull just watched.

“I doubt it,” Ben said, “Given that he’s already in a band. One that, I assume, is also trying out for talent show?”

Alex Deal’s eyes narrowed but his expression remained calm. He turned to Casey. “Is it still cool if I stop by today?”

She bit her lip and looked to Ben and Sukh, but more to Ben. Just as she was about to speak, though, she spotted Maxine French. She was entering the front hall with another girl in a cheerleading uniform. They were laughing. She caught sight of Casey standing with Alex Deal, leaned over, and said something to the girl. The girl nodded.

Casey looked at Alex. “Talent show auditions start tomorrow. How about if you check us out then?”

Alex Deal stared at her for a moment. Then he shrugged and walked away.

“We go now, yes?” Sukh said.

She forced a smile. “Yes.”

On their way out of the building Yull fell into step alongside Casey. “Well done.”

She made a face at him. “Don’t think for two moments your words have had any pull on me whatsoever. I just thought it would be better for band stability if we kept egos in check for the time being by holding off the groupies.”

“Of course, Casey.”





21



They played even better than the day before. Sukh’s sister came by to pick him up as soon as they finished. But since they were going in the opposite direction of Casey’s house and Yull said he would be able to get her a half hour later, she stayed. She used Ben’s computer to email Leigh. She had to make sure another debacle had not gone down.

That day Leigh took Ben’s advice, as relayed by Casey, to make a plate of brownies and leave them, under cover of night, on her parents’ front door. Accompanying the brownies would be a note saying she would return to the parental homestead only when the threat of boarding school was taken off the table. Leigh, however, fell asleep while the brownies were baking (she did not sleep well during her first night as a runaway), and filled the Barnes household with a noxious burned baked good smell. This was communicated to Casey via email as Leigh still did not have a phone. Not surprisingly, Casey was also contacted by Mrs. Robinson that day.

During math a girl from guidance brought Casey to the office, where she had to take the call in full view of her counselor Ms. James. Casey thought Ms. James was cool. She had a punk haircut, three earrings, and once, when Casey was there after school, she heard Ms. James playing The Cure in her office. But cool as she was, Ms. James was an adult and thus her thoughts on Casey aiding and abetting a runaway would likely fall along party lines.

“Casey,” Mrs. Robinson began, “Have you seen or heard from Leigh at all?”

She averted her eyes from Ms. James’ curious ones. “Uh, no Mrs. Robinson. Is everything okay?”

“No. Leigh’s run away from home.”

“Why that’s downright shocking. Whatever on earth might have made her do that?”

“We discovered a roach clip amongst Leigh’s belongings, Casey. It was from her trip to Los Angeles.”

“No!”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Are you sure you have not seen or heard from her at all?”

“Yes. Though I did take an Ambien last night which, as I’m sure you know, can have deleterious effect on short term memory.”

“Excuse me?”

“You mean you haven’t read about it in the popular media? People take Ambien and do all sorts of things in the middle of the night they later have zero recollection of doing. Some people even get in the car and go to the mall.”

“Malls are closed in the middle of the night.”

“Exactly,” Casey said, “But it’s not like the Ambien pill knows that.”

“Why is your mother giving you access to Ambien?”

“You be surprised what goes on in latchkey households these days.”

Ms. James made a note on a Scotch pad.

“You know, this Ambien discussion and the inherent and subtle fingers it points at irresponsible parenting have caused a thought to occur to me.” Casey paused. “Would you like to know what that is, Mrs. Robinson?”

“What, Casey?” Mrs. Robinson said sharply.

“That roach clip likely didn’t belong to Leigh. It was probably Aunt Eva’s or a gift from one of the college kids Leigh attended the concert with that poor Leigh was coerced into accepting.”

“That’s a lot of detail for someone who didn’t even know about the clip.”

“I really have to get back to class.”

“You will let me know if you hear anything?”

“Of course, Mrs. Robinson. You can count on me.”



From Ben’s computer, Casey opened the following email from Leigh:

Where’d you say the Oreos were again? Also what’s the button that brings back saved recordings I might have but probably didn’t erase on Tivo???

Casey responded. After you locate the Oreos behind the orange teapot in the china cabinet please REFRAIN from going near that remote again and go back down to the basement. There should be, near where I keep my old guitar, a sketchpad and colored pencils. You are hereby commanded to use them. And stay hidden until I return. Arrivaderci.

When Casey turned back around Ben was flipping through the day’s paper. He put it down. “Wanna see something?”

She sighed and wondered which coffee table prop he was going to show off his intellectual superiority with. “I already read the pop-up book on British Imperialism.”

He grabbed his jacket from the chair. “Come on. You’ll need yours too.”

“Huh?”

“You said your brother’s not gonna be here for a half hour, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We have time.”





22



Ben’s house was five minutes from Glen Echo, a former amusement park that had been transformed into a community center consisting of artists’ huts, a Spanish ballroom where dance lessons were held, and broken down rides from the old park.

“How long have you been in Bethesda now?” she asked as they walked.

“Two months.”

“Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “Not sure.”

“What’s the best place you ever lived?”

She was hoping he would say Paris and then explain why his Dad lived there.

“San Fran. I have cousins there.”

She sighed. “And how was it living in Paris?”

“I never lived in Paris.”

“Why not?”

“Why haven’t you ever lived in Paris?”

“Because when my Dad was alive he never lived in Paris either.”

A moment went by and Casey realized that by dropping the dead Dad bomb she had inadvertently given Ben a way out of discussing his increasingly elusive padre.

“When did your Dad die?” he asked.

“When I was four.”

“Do you remember him?”

“Not much.”

Ben got quiet. She knew he wanted to know how her Dad died. Whenever anyone found out she had a dead Dad they always wanted to know more. But ninety nine point nine percent of the time they didn’t ask. Aisling Cheng asked the year before in Spanish. It was when they were doing family vocabulary. Casey informed her that her father was dead and Aisling Cheng point blank asked how. Merely for the fact that Aisling Cheng wasn’t so freaked out about Casey having a dead Dad that she asked, Casey burned her a disc the next day. Aisling Cheng reciprocated by giving her a sparkly Hello Kitty pen. The friendship did not develop much after that point.

But Ben didn’t say a word.

“He got sick,” she said, “with cancer. And then he died.”

They reached the entrance of the park. The gate was classic Art Deco, but there was a low wall made of stones beneath it.

“Wonder if this was some kind of old fort or something,” Casey said as she kicked it.

“No, those stones are from the Chautauqua era. This whole place was originally built as a sight for it. They built the Art Deco structures on top.”

“The what?”

“The Chautauqua. It was a series of community lectures on cultural and academic issues of the day that started in the late 1800s.” Ben suddenly looked nervous. It occurred to Casey that he might be scared he sounded nerdy for knowing that.

“That’s cool,” she said.

He walked over to the carousel. “How many people do you think have gone on this ride over the years?”

“Some of us would argue that in order for something to be considered a ride people need to scream and get dizzy on it,” she said.

Ben looked at her. “Some day.” He kept walking.

Casey fell into step alongside him. “Someday what?”

He seemed not to have heard her though. “There used to be a lot of suburban amusement parks, but most closed in the 70s. This one closed earlier because of race riots.” He paused. “I like this place because it’s got history. It’s not like the rest of this town where anything unusual is crammed under the surface so everything looks perfect to the outside world.”

“That’s what you think?”

“That’s what I see. Even if my mom says people in the suburbs are every bit as odd as people in cities.” He paused. “They’re just better at hiding it.”

He led Casey to a far end of the park and stopped. There was a gate covered in ivy. Casey never noticed it before. Through the ivy there was a sign. The Crystal Pool. Ben walked a few paces past the gate to a chain link fence. He leaned and the fence gave way. Casey followed him through. Inside she saw that, in its heyday, the pool had been long and shallow with sitting areas throughout. There was enough of the original base peaking through the overgrowth to catch the light of the moon and give it a ghostly feel.

“This is tripped out,” Casey said.

A moment passed.

“Someday you’re not going to always have a comeback.”

Casey looked at him. “Will that be a good thing?”

“I think so.” He paused. “Your brother’s coming soon.”

He walked past her, back over to the fence, and led the way back to his house.





23



When Casey and Yull arrived home they got Leigh out of her hiding place. Then, despite Yull’s strenuous objections, Casey and Leigh insisted on making brownies.

“Mom’s totally gonna know something’s up,” Yull said, “You’ve never even made those cookies where all you have to do it cut them out from the pre-made roll.”

“Don’t you have to go find a cure for cancer or something?” Casey asked.

On the other side of the kitchen, Leigh took a bowl of melted chocolate out of the microwave and dumped it into a mixing bowl.

“I just had the best idea!” Casey said, “We should add pot to our brownies. Your parents would A) be more chill under the influence, B) realize they’re being a couple of hard-asses suffering negative long-term effects of too much scented candle inhalation, and C) like it and realize that their daughter trying it was perhaps a good thing.”

“Have you tried pot, Casey?” Yull asked.

Casey knew he was thinking she’d probably tried it during her now defunct tryst with Alex Deal. Yes, ‘tryst.’ Playlist for a tryst: “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star, “One” by U2, “Shatter” by Liz Phair. Trysts could end suddenly. And then start again. “Oh course I have,” she said. She had not.

“Bong or joint?” he asked.

“Both.”

“Well I simply had no idea you had that much experience.”

“Go be a productive member of society, will you?” she snapped, “and while you’re at it find us some pot.”

The doorbell rang. Leigh dove under the counter. “You get it!” Casey hissed at Yull.

He walked out of the room and then called out, “Relax it’s Clayton Gould.” A moment later the two of them appeared in the kitchen.

“What’s all this about Leigh going rogue?” Clayton Gould asked.

“Her parents threatened to send her to boarding school for one misdemeanor,” Casey said, “and unless we can brainwash them with pot brownies she’s going to be living in our basement from now on.”

Clayton Gould turned to Yull. “I assume you’ve pointed out not only the powerful stupidity but also tremendous irony of this idea?” Yull threw his hands up in the air and left the room. “The presence of a refugee in the Barnes household is not the sole purpose for my visit,” Clayton Gould continued.

“Is that so?” Casey asked.

“Yull tells me you’ve started a rock band and are planning on auditioning for talent show. Is this true, young Barnes?”

She nodded. “And you thought you’d never see the day.”

“I thought nothing of the sort,” he said, “and I am not so indebted to the tradition of inter-peer taunting that I will forgo the opportunity to say congratulations.”

Yull reappeared in the kitchen holding a bag of pot.

“Why dear brother,” Casey said, “Is that…?”

Clayton Gould moved close to Yull and smelled it. “It most certainly is.”

“And there you were, playing it all high and mighty,” Casey said.

“You smoke pot?” Leigh asked.

Yull shook his head. “The weed ain’t mine.” Clayton Gould and Leigh looked at Casey.

“Don’t look at me!” she said, “So what are you saying, bro, the pot belongs to Trish?”

Yull shook his head. “Nope.”

Casey’s mouth fell open. “Jimbo?” Yull nodded.

Leigh shook her head in disbelief. “That’s your step dad’s pot?”

Jim was a lawyer who had been married to Tricia for two years. When the family had dinner together he remained neutral on whatever it was Casey, Yull and Tricia tended to be going back and forth about. He reserved his passion for talk of work, golf, and the stock market. Jim as stoner was not something that would have occurred to Casey in her wildest dreams.

“We’re all waiting for an explanation here,” Clayton Gould said.

Yull put the pot down on the table. “One night last summer when Tricia was away for work I was supposed to be at the Kennedy Center. But I got sick and came home early. When I got here I found Jim on the back porch smoking a doobie.”

Casey, Clayton Gould, and Leigh’s mouths fell open simultaneously.

“You are so dead for never sharing this information with me prior to this moment,” Casey said.

“He told me he only smokes every few months, and I believed him. If it were any more we would’ve known. I saw no need to get you of all people involved and the only reason I took it out just now was for comic effect. And--”

But before Yull could finish that thought, which presumably was that the pot was now going back in its hiding place, Casey, in one swift movement, grabbed the bag and poured some into the brownie batter.

Leigh gasped, Clayton Gould said, “Oh dear,” and Yull yelled “Freak!” as he snatched the pot back from her. But Casey grabbed the bowl, as well as a spoon, held it away from him, and beat the mixture with fury.

“Casey!” Leigh said.

“Next up, your mother introduces a candle that emanates eau du weed,” Casey said. She ran away from Yull, who was now chasing her, took the cup of milk Leigh had previously measured out, dumped it in, and kept beating. Yull again charged her and she tossed the bowl to Leigh.

For another few minutes Casey and Leigh poured ingredients in and mixed while simultaneously playing keep away from Yull. All were treated to a running commentary courtesy of Clayton Gould. Then Casey dumped the batter into a pan while Leigh held Yull at bay, threw the brownies into the oven, and slammed it shut with a bang.

“Set the timer on your watch to twenty minutes!” she barked to Leigh. She then stood sentry in front of the oven door with her arms crossed over her chest.

Yull backed away from Leigh and tossed his hands in the air. “I’ve spent enough time putting energy your way. I have homework to do. And for the record I will in no way, shape, or form bail you out when you take the fall for this.”



Over family dinner two hours later, Tricia was curious about the bake sale for which Casey claimed the brownies were created. They had been spirited away in aluminum-foiled safety to the bottom of her backpack, but the smell of baked goods by way of a girl who could barely boil water brought out the hound dog in Tricia.

“Tell me again, Casey, why the talent show committee decided to have a bake sale.”

Trish’s voice was not lacking in irony. Old Lady Barnes could be weird like that. Just when you thought her to be completely devoid of humor she would whip it out, but so fast and card-trick-like that by the time you realized it happened it was already back in the deck.

“Let’s just say they did, Tricia.”

Before Tricia could respond, the doorbell rang.

“Anyone expecting a guest?” Tricia asked as she got up. Heads shook. A moment later, Tricia reappeared in the dining room with Mrs. Robinson.

“Come here, Casey,” Tricia said.

She got up from the table and went over to them. “Have you had any luck locating Leigh, Mrs. Robinson? I’d sure hate to see her face end up on the side of a milk carton. And I bet she’d hate it even more. Though if it does come to that point, might I recommend you use her school photo from last year and not the one she just took?”

Tricia’s mouth hardened. “Please take this seriously. Leigh has been missing for a day now.”

“Taking it seriously is precisely what I’m doing. Leigh’s eyes are half-closed in her picture this year. Not only that but in her pic from last year she still had her summer tan and bore a striking resemblance to Christie Brinkley in the Billy Joel era.”

“Casey,” Tricia warned.

Mrs. Robinson folded her arms over her chest. “No I have not. And I came over to ask you face to face if you have any idea where she is.”

“Nope.”



After dinner Casey checked on Leigh in her basement hiding place. She made sure she was well-stocked with snacks and magazines and then went upstairs before Tricia got suspicious. When she got back up, she told Tricia she was going to do some homework. And then Tricia got suspicious.

“Really? For what class?”

“Math.”

“Mind showing me when you’re done?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me?”

“I do mind because I can’t. My math teacher has a policy about showing parents homework when we’re done. She says it’s tantamount to getting our parents to do it for us.”

“I’ll give her a call tomorrow to confirm that.”

“Your trust in my word is really good for my self-esteem, Trish.”

Casey slammed the door shut, turned her computer on, and opened a chat with Sukh and Ben about band names. Sukh suggested Sonic Overdrive, which Casey thought sounded too much like Sonic Youth. Ben suggested Spazz. Casey said that in the interest of Ben’s drumming career, she would not read too much into that one. Casey suggested Pop Rocks, like the candy.

It’s got two meanings and all the best band names have two meanings. There’s even a word for it that my over-programmed mind is blanking on at the moment.

Double entendre, Ben fired back, though I’m not sure that phrase has ever been applied to ‘pop rocks’ before.

Suck chimed in next. Wire rock.

Casey frowned. Sounds like a science experiment. But as soon as she hit the return button, another idea came to her. She typed it in so she could see what it looked like in print. Sure enough, it was even better.

POP WIRE

She hit the return button. A few seconds went by. There was a response from Sukh. I like this very much Casey.

Always knew you were a man of refined taste, she wrote back. Another moment passed. Still no response from Ben. Then it came.

Not bad, Barnes. Not bad at all.