Driving With Dead People by Monica Holloway Read Free Book Online

to be short, pale, and creepy with greasy dark hair and maybe a black cape, but this man was downright gorgeous. He was blond, with a Barbie-and-Ken-type smile, and he wore a bright blue sweater with khaki shorts.
    I was instantly in love with Dave Kilner and his tan legs.
    He pointed toward a picnic table. “Those girls over there are mine. Would you like to meet them?”
    “Okay,” I said, wondering where the “sons” from “Kilner and Sons” were.
    I followed him over to the three girls. I was surprised that an undertaker would have a normal, non-zombie family, and disappointed that my dad sold hand tools instead of funerals.
    “This is Julie, Liz, and Amanda,” Dave said.
    “Hi,” I offered.
    “This is Monica. Her dad’s a friend of mine.” I wished he’d quit saying that. Dave turned to me. “Julie’s on a softball team in town.” Julie smiled with her mouth closed. She had wavy black hair down to her shoulders, a small turned-up nose, and beautiful green eyes surrounded by thick black lashes.
    I wasn’t allowed to play softball in Elk Grove because it was too far for Mom to drive me to practices and games.
    Julie and I stared at each other.
    “Well, I’m going to leave you kids to your fun,” Dave said, patting my shoulder and walking away.
    I turned to Julie. She looked at me. I looked at Liz and Amanda, who were a lot younger than we were. Liz looked just like a boy. I couldn’t even imagine that she was, in fact, a girl. Julie was picking a scab on her knee.
    “So, your dad owns the mortuary?” I asked. Julie looked up, surprised. “I was there once,” I added for clarity.
    “What does your dad own?” Julie asked.
    “Buzz saws,” I answered. “But I own a collie.”
    “I have a beagle,” Julie said. “His name is Sparky.”
    “My dog is Buddy, but she has cancer.”
    “Sparky has allergies,” she countered. Damn, that sounded worse than cancer.
    “Terrible,” I said.
    Julie smiled with her teeth showing. “Let’s eat,” she said, and we ran toward the food line. Liz and Amanda stayed at the picnic table.
    Julie and I spent the day climbing tall Black Walnut trees that surrounded the Rotary Club. The walnuts were lime green and filled with brown juice that squished out, staining my hands and sweater. Julie and I picked them off branches and hurled them at predetermined targets: a trash can, a gray rock, a rotting tree stump. Each time we hurled one, barely missing a parked car or a squirrel, we howled with laughter. Mom was going to kill me for acting like a “heathen” in public, but I didn’t care. Julie climbed higher than I did, even though I was a good climber. I gathered the courage to follow her, and way above the barbecue, we spied on people we knew.
    “Your dad is hilarious,” she said, indicating the laughter coming from the barbecue pit.
    “Yeah, he’s funny,” I said.
    “You’re lucky,” she said. “My dad’s so boring.”
    “He seems okay,” I countered.
    “He’s not like your dad,” she said. I looked at Dad. He did look okay. In fact, he looked almost handsome, like someone I’d want to know but didn’t.
    “That’s my sister Becky,” I said, pointing to the swings. “Her hair’s so long, she can sit on it. If she doesn’t hold it up, it gets in the toilet.” Julie’s eyebrows flew up, impressed.
    The tractors were huffing and puffing over at the tractor pull, and from up in the walnut tree, we could see black smoke coiling up in the air and my Papaw sitting in the black metal seat of his red Farmall tractor. He was turned around backward, watching the pile of gray cinder blocks that had been loaded onto the pallet he was pulling. The front two wheels of his tractor weren’t even touching the ground as he kept gunning the engine.
    “I think my papaw’s going to do a backward roll on his tractor,” I said, pointing toward the action.
    Each time a tractor made it past the finish line, the crowd cheered and clapped as another weight