Alexander Death(3)

Seth wondered what his older brother had done. Carter had a pretty good nose for mischief. At Grayson, he'd once gotten in trouble for dying the pool in the aquatic center pink the night before a swim meet, which had gotten him probationary status and ultimately cost Seth's dad a bit of money. Carter said his main regret was not using enough red food dye—he and his friends had wanted the water blood-red. Another time, Carter had been in trouble for sneaking over to the Kingsroad School, a girls' prep school a couple miles from all-male Grayson Academy.

“I understand,” Seth's dad said, furiously scribbling information on a legal pad. “We'll be there as soon as we can.” He hung up the phone. Then he stared at Seth. His face was going pale, and he had a look like he'd been punched in the stomach.

“What's happening, Dad?” Seth asked.

“It's Carter.” His dad stood up.

“What did he do?”

“I have to talk to your mother.” Seth's dad walked past him, and Seth followed him to the stairs. “Wait,” his dad told him.

“You want me to wait right here in your office?” Seth asked.

“Just wait somewhere.”

Seth followed his father to the old, wide staircase, built of dark oak, but he stayed at the foot of it while his father ascended.

“Dad, what's going on with Carter?”

His father glanced back at Seth, briefly, but said nothing. Seth watched him disappear into the dark upstairs hall.

After a minute, Seth tiptoed up the stairs after him.

Seth made his way down the wide upstairs hall, past the door to the third floor, which Seth never opened. The third floor was scary, full of his great-grandfather's stuff, and Seth's grandfather had remodeled it into some kind of crazy maze. Carter said it was to confuse Great-Grandfather's ghost, in case it came back to haunt the family. Seth's parents would not confirm or deny the story, and usually changed the subject when Seth asked.

At the end of the hall, the door to the master bedroom stood ajar. Seth leaned an ear against the open crack, wanting to hear the news about his older brother.

He didn't need to eavesdrop, though, because the first thing he heard was his mother's scream.

“No!” Iris Mayfield Barrett's voice echoed through the house. “No, no, no!”

Seth nudged the door open another inch. He could see a mirror on his parents' wall. In the reflection, his mother sat at the foot of her bed in her bath robe, her hair disheveled, her face in her hands. She was shaking her head.

Seth's father stood over her, his arms crossed, looking down at the floor.

“We have to go,” he said.

“I can't,” she said.

“Then stay here with Seth,” he told her. “I'll go by myself.”

Seth's dad took a coat from the closet. He looked at Seth's mom, weeping on the bed, and his jaw worked as if he were trying to come up with something to say. Then he walked toward the door without saying anything.

“Don't go,” Seth's mom said.

“I have to go.”

“I need to see him.” She stood up and went to the closet. “Let me get ready.”

Seth's dad opened the door and looked at Seth. “I told you to wait.”

“What happened to Carter?” Seth asked.

His dad looked at him, then back into the room as if he expected Seth's mom to answer that one, but she was out of sight in the walk-in closet.

“Seth,” his dad finally said, “There's been an accident. A car accident.”

“Is Carter okay?”

Seth's dad sighed. He was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Carter didn't survive, Seth. We have to....” His voice choked up, but he swallowed forcefully and held it back. “We have to identify the body.”

Seth stared at him, unable to process this. Carter had been here only yesterday, chasing Seth through the house and threatening him with noogies.

“But he can't be,” Seth said. “He can't be...dead, can he?”

“I'm sorry, Seth.” His father gripped his shoulder awkwardly for a second, and quickly let go. “I don't know what to say.”

“No, that's not right.” Seth backed away from his dad. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes as he shook his head. “That can't be true!”

Seth ran down the hall and into Carter's room. He looked around at the baseball trophies, the posters of girls in bikinis, the electric guitar Carter had begged to get last Christmas, but never learned how to play. It didn't seem possible that he wasn't coming home. Carter had gone to the beach for a week, and then he'd be back. That was supposed to be the plan. He wasn't supposed to be gone forever.

Seth felt something cold and hard strike him right in the stomach. He collapsed at the corner of Carter's bed, crying and screaming and overwhelmed and confused.