Casey Barnes Eponymous (14 page)

Casey got
out of the car and trotted to the front door of Leigh’s house.
 
Leigh’s mother answered after two rings
of the doorbell.
 
She opened only
the front door and left the screen shut.
 
Casey frowned.
 
Leigh’s
mother was usually at the shop that time of day.
 

“Hello
Casey,” she said flatly.

“Hello
Mrs. Robinson!
 
Playing hooky from
work today, are you?”
 
Mrs. Robinson
frowned and Casey realized her choice of words may not have been the
sagest.
 

“I had
other matters to attend to,” Mrs. Robinson said.

“Of
course.
 
Mrs. Robinson can I please
speak to Leigh for a few minutes?”
 

“I’m afraid
that won’t be possible,” she replied, “Leigh is grounded.”
 

“Oh I
understand that.
 
But since she wasn’t
in school today she missed a great deal of important information and I need to
get it to her before she falls too far behind.”

“That
won’t be necessary, Casey.”
 

“But Mrs.
Robinson, even grounded kids eventually get report cards.”
 

“It won’t
be necessary because Leigh won’t be returning to Walton.
 
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things
to take care of.”
 
Casey’s jaw
dropped open.
 
But before she could formulate
a response, Mrs. Robinson closed the door in her face.
 

Ben’s
house was small for Bethesda and decorated with prints from places like Bali,
Buddhas, and art history books.
 
When Casey first had a look around she felt dubious about the culinary prospects.
 
Sure enough Ben pulled a box of soy (!)
raspberry “cookies” out of the cupboard.
 
Casey ate two for the sake of blood sugar and band stability but made a
mental note to pack Twinkies prior to next rehearsal.

Band
practice was better from the start.
 
For one thing Ben was right about playing with a real drum kit as
opposed to the tap pad thing he had the day before.
 
The added volume made them sound more
like a real band.
 
Also he seemed to
take it more seriously when he was playing real drums.
 

In the
beginning Sukh took his cues from Ben.
 
But after the first few songs he got more confident and started jumping
in even before Ben did.
 

Casey at
first remained shy and did not improve much on the day before.
 
But then she remembered Alex Deal being
with Maxine French and had a thought that if she kept playing badly she might
keep seeing them together.
 
Clearly
getting into talent show was her best chance at getting him back.
 
So she made herself sing louder and
stand straighter, and she forced an image into her head of Alex Deal leaving
school with none other than Casey Barnes.
 
Right around then, the three of them hit a groove.
 

Yes, a
groove.
 
Casey, Ben and Sukh were,
tentatively, jamming.
 
For a moment,
there was something so simultaneously exciting and terrifying about
accomplishing group music status that Casey’s voice and playing got quiet
again.
 
But then she made herself
think of Alex and Maxine.
 
It was a
trick, the mental equivalent of a doctor pinging your knee with the rubber thing
and the knee flying up.
 
But whatever
it was, it worked.
 
They played
eight of Casey’s original songs.
 
By
the time they got to the last one they actually started to sound good.
 
When it ended everyone looked at each
other with collective relief.
 

“Got any
more?” Sukh asked.
 
Casey
paused.
 
She did have another
song.
 
It was the one she wrote
about Alex Deal.
 
But that one was
so different than the others.

She shook
her head.
 
“We could play some of
the
Beowulf
as Elvis songs.”
 
So they did.
 
And the
Beowulf
as Elvis songs were like a cakewalk after they had gotten into such a groove on
the originals.
 
After a half hour
they had the entire
Beowulf
project
mapped out, which was a good thing since it was due the next day.

When they
went back upstairs after practice, Casey had a chance to quiz Ben.
 
She started by asking what his mom did.
 

“She teaches
Spanish at the University of Maryland.”

“Is that
why you’re good at Spanish?”

He
nodded.
 

“What’s
Reiki?” she continued.

“It has
something to do with energy,” he said.

“Do you
have Buddhas because you’re Buddhists?”

 
“Having a Buddha does not automatically
make one a Buddhist,” he paused, “but my Mom’s one.”

“Are you
serious?
 
Does she tell you you’re
gonna be reincarnated as a flea every time she’s pissed at you?”
  

“No.”

Casey
drained her glass of carbonated health food water.
 
“Got any Coke?”

“Nope.”
 

“So why’s
your Dad live in Paris?”

“He just
does.”
 

“But I
mean,” she pressed, “does he live there because he’s French or because he’s
American and works for Chanel?”
 

“Neither.”
 

“Paris is
very beautiful,” Sukh said.
 

Ben looked
at the clock.
 
“Should we be waiting
outside for your brother?”

“It’s cold
out,” Casey said.
 
They heard the
honking of Yull’s car horn in front.

That
night, there was not much time to mull over Ben’s lack of response to Casey’s
line of questioning regarding his father.
 
There was not even much time to gloat about how well band practice had
gone and how in the space of one short rehearsal, world rock domination had
become within reach by measurable degrees.

That was
because after dinner, a blissful interlude due to Tricia working late, step dad
Jim having his weekly squash game at the gym, Yull being at a friend’s to
study, and Casey eating ALONE AND IN FRONT OF CABLE TELEVISION, she went
upstairs to her room, opened the door, and saw something that made her shriek.

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.”