“When you put it like that, dating your cousin doesn’t sound that bad, you know?”
“I know. I really do know. I need to shower and change.” I sighed as I looked down at my torn and bloody clothes. “And then we’ll drive Steve back to Miss Evelyn. Keep an eye on Steve while I change. I wouldn’t be surprised if Myrtle starts feeling the need to take scissors and dye to her.”
***
I’d be hard pressed to imagine the rest of the United States was as beautiful as Eden, Kentucky. It had a magic that made me feel calm--lush fields, wildly colorful gardens, thoroughbred horse farms and old Southern mansions. Perfect. I really wanted to see other parts of the country, especially New York, the Grand Canyon and Disney World, but that would have to wait until I kicked ass and took no prisoners here.
Blanche tried to con me into letting her drive, but allowing your invisible friend to drive your car could cause all sorts of unwanted attention in town. She begged and pleaded. In the end I compromised, mostly so she would shut up. I let her drive the country roads till we were about a mile out of town. She was a horrible driver—even Steve whimpered in terror.
A party was in full swing when we pulled up in front of the Happy Hacienda Senior Citizens Home. Around twenty really old people wearing brightly colored leis and hula skirts over their housecoats and slippers mingled on the front lawn. Some were eating from the trays of food piled high on a buffet table decorated with tiki statues, twinkle lights and fake palm trees. Hawaiian music blasted from a speaker. Several gals were doing a geriatric hula, and two of the women were dancing in their wheelchairs.
I watched from the car in rapt fascination. I’d never seen so many old people in my life. I’d never seen old people at all till I came to Earth. Demons stopped aging anywhere between twenty and thirty. It had never seemed unusual that my father could pass for my brother, or that his own father looked like his brother. That was my normal. This was not. These people were bizarrely happy to be so close to death.
The concept of dying was foreign to me. Of course I’d considered it more often lately because running from Elijah earlier had scared a healthy dose of desire to live into me. My own mortality hadn’t occurred to me in Hell and I wondered as I watched the aged bodies of these smiling people how often they thought about dying.
Steve nuzzled my neck with her big wet nose. “Okay girl.” I scratched between her ears and wondered if I was confusing her by calling her Steve. “Let’s go find Miss Evelyn.”
As we walked through the throngs of eighty year old hula dancers, a cute little old lady in a pale peach robe and matching slippers grabbed my arm. Her skin felt papery and fragile but her grip was strong.
“Hey darlin’, let’s dance.” Her laugh was infectious and she swung her terry cloth covered hips in a circular motion, reminiscent of a really bad stripper.#p#分页标题#e#
I giggled at her dancing but was drawn to the lines around her eyes. They crinkled when she smiled, yet her watery blue eyes sparkled. I froze and realized those were laugh lines. I’d never seen them before. I wanted to touch them, but I knew that would be rude. She wore her lifetime of joy and sorrow proudly on her face. She was beautiful. Every line etched in her skin was a story.
“Come on, sweetie pie,” she urged, doing moves that would make Carl proud. “Dance with me.”
“Okay,” I muttered, rocking back and forth feeling like an ass. Blanche stood beside me and laughed. Nobody was going to make her dance. Nobody could see her.
“I like chicken,” my little dance partner yelled above the music. “Do you like chicken?”
“Um. . .yes.” Was she senile?
“I’m gonna sit down, sugar puss. Would you get me some chicken?” She took my hand and we wound our way over to a bench. “I’m not as young as I look.” She grinned and eased herself down with a grunt.
“I’d be happy to get you some chicken,” I told her.
There were three kinds of chicken on the buffet table, so I piled a plate high with all of them. I glanced around for Miss Evelyn but couldn’t find her. I very carefully made my way back to my new friend. I held the plate high. . .walking through a group of hulaing seniors could be dangerous.
“Thank you, sugar buns.” She took the plate gratefully. I was curious how many nicknames she had stored up in her brain. “Would you like some chicken, sweet cheeks?” She offered her plate to me.
“No thanks."
“Well, sit your pretty fanny down and talk to me for a minute. Not many younguns come around here much.”
I watched her eat her chicken with gusto. She made happy little noises with each bite, reminding me of Astrid as she slurped on Gemma. I had no idea what to talk about, so I sat quietly and let her enjoy her chicken.