The Last Wish of Sasha Cade

Wait. Sasha. Not me. He won’t let Sasha down.

Three days before the gig in Houston, I stop by the Cades’ house after school. I’d called Mrs. Cade from the school parking lot, so she’s expecting me. She greets me with a warm smile and a hug at the front door. Sunny greets me with cheek licks. Mrs. Cade’s white-blond hair has been pulled into a sleek ponytail, and instead of a nice dress like usual, she’s wearing a velour tracksuit, deep maroon, with a pink tank top under the jacket. It’s a little odd, if I’m being honest.

“How are you?” she asks, closing the door behind me.

“I’m good,” I say, still kneeling so I can ruffle the fur on Sunny’s head. There’s a life-sized witch standing near the door, her crazy eyes and green hair reminding me that Halloween is just a few weeks away. “I like your decorations.”

Mrs. Cade delights in decorating her house for each holiday, and since Halloween in their neighborhood includes a hayride for all the kids to go house to house, Mrs. Cade really goes all out for this one. There are spiderwebs covering the bricks around the front door, foam spiders as big as my head lining the steps.

The Cades have three custom-made tombstones with their names on them and silly little sayings about how they died. They’ve always been prominently displayed on the front lawn with a spotlight focused on them. It doesn’t escape my notice that she’s omitted them from this year’s decor.

“It gives me something to do,” Mrs. Cade says as she leads me into the kitchen to where she’s already made two cups of tea for us. “I almost didn’t decorate this year, but Walter talked me into it. He said Sasha would want me to, you know?”

“She totally would,” I say, nodding. “I remember we even had this conversation with her. She said to keep doing things that make us happy.”

Mrs. Cade nods, that sad smile permanently etched on her face. “I remember. So that’s what I’m trying to do.”

She spoons sugar into her tea and then gestures toward her clothing.

“So what’s up with that outfit?” I ask, allowing myself to grin because Sasha would want me to.

Her cheeks turn rosy and she looks into her teacup. “I joined a club for women my age. It’s silly really, but we meet once a week at the community center and play games or talk about books, drink wine … that kind of thing.”

“Sounds fun,” I say, squeezing the bottle of honey onto my spoon. “Do y’all wear matching tracksuits?”

She laughs, a deep sound coming straight from a place she hasn’t used in a while. She looks down at her outfit and shrugs. “Kind of. I mean, I showed up in a dress the first time and all the other ladies were dressed very casual, so I felt out of place. I thought I’d try this one out today. The lady at Nordstrom said it would be perfect.”

I put my spoon in my mouth, licking off the remaining bit of honey. “Okay, here’s a tip, Mrs. Cade. If you want to fit in with a group of regular women, you probably shouldn’t shop at Nordstrom.”

She laughs again. “You’re probably right. Maybe you can take me shopping sometime. Show me how to dress like a normal mom.”

“I’d love to.” Wherever Sasha is now, I hope she can see this. I hope it makes her proud that her mom is trying to move on, because I know that’s what Sasha wanted. I clear my throat and decide to go with an honest approach to getting what I need from Sasha’s bedroom. Well, as honest as I can be without breaking my promise.

“Mrs. Cade? I was wondering if I could borrow a shirt from Sasha’s closet. Just for a couple days and then I’ll return it.”

She sets her teacup back on the saucer and waves me away with her hand. “Of course, of course. Go get it.”

That was easy. Much easier than trying to sneak it out like Sasha asked. I thank her and then dash off to Sasha’s room, Sunny bounding after me. I stop dead in my tracks when I get to her door. Last time I was here, I didn’t go inside. Now, I have to.

Her room still smells exactly the same. That scent of Sasha, not quite like anything specific, but I’d know it anywhere. There’s a lump in my throat as I cross the threshold, my feet sinking into her plush carpet. I helped her pick out this carpet after the nail polish–shattering incident that left her former carpet ruined. It’s still fluffy and even nicer than the carpet in the rest of the house.

Drawing in a deep breath, I make my way toward her closet, pull open the door and flip on the light. The huge walk-in is filled with clothes, shoes, old toys from her childhood that she could never get rid of and one giant cardboard cutout of Captain America. I glance back and find Sunny hopping up on Sasha’s bed, walking in a circle before settling down on the crumpled sheets. My heart aches as I wonder how long he waits there each day, waiting for his human to come back.

I move toward the back corner row

of hangers, the solid swath of black T-shirts, all Zombie Radio official merch. This girl has every shirt they ever made, around thirty of them. The only large-sized one is on the far right, and it’s a crisper black color than the rest since it wasn’t worn as much.

I take it off the hanger, fold it gingerly and take it home, hoping that when I get there, I’ll have an email from Elijah. I have to have faith that he won’t let us down for this adventure.

He can’t. He needs this just as much as I do. Right?

Chapter Seventeen

Dad eyes me over the green glass of his beer bottle. “You doing okay, kid?”

“Yeah, Dad.” I smile as I sling my backpack against the wall near the back door and head into the kitchen for a snack. “Why?”

Dad takes another sip of his beer. It’s only three o’clock, but he’s just returned from a trip on the road and he drinks a cold one when he gets off work, no matter the time. My dad is tanned, rugged and manly. He’s always sporting a beard and wearing something mentioning his favorite football team, the Texans. Despite the masculine exterior, my dad has always been a big softy when it comes to Mom and me. So far, he hasn’t needed to kick anyone’s ass for me. But he’s kind of looking like he wants to.