My thoughts are consumed with Sarah as I fall asleep. She's floating around in my dreams, even as I wake. That is, until I groggily glance at my phone as the sun starts to peek above the forest and I see at least one thousand missed texts from Mem. I open the latest one.
Cara?? Where are u???
My heart plunges straight through the floor. The Halloween Festival is today. And I'd totally forgotten that the last time I saw her I promised Mem that I'd meet her super early at the Nest to help set up the square.
"Shit shit shit," I breathe, stumbling out of bed and nearly strangling myself as I hurriedly pull on my dress pants and a frilly pumpkin-colored top that I'd bought in town. Even as I comb my hair with my fingers, more frantic texts roll in from Mem. Before she has an aneurysm, I quickly fire off a message. I don't have time for spell check.
Gebting dress now coming soon sr7y!!!!!
I trip over myself as I throw on my coat and descend the stairs two at a time, so preoccupied that I almost don't notice Lisa lying on her stomach in front of the hearth, scrolling through YouTube.
"Hey," I say, pausing in my tracks. "What's got you up so early, missy?"
"I can never sleep before Halloween. I'm too excited!" She kicks her legs for emphasis, and I smile, my heart twinging. I imagine another world in which I can help her pick out a costume, a world where she can leave this house and gather piles of teeth-rotting candy in a pillowcase then stay up all night eating it. She's missed out on so much, as have the others. It's not fair.
"Well, I hope you have the best day." I smile at her. "I'm going to help Mem set up for the festival."
"I'll tell Death you left!" She promises.
I settle for a nod before slipping through the front door. Hearing Death's name puts a sour taste in my mouth. I still wish I understood what came over him the moment that the Auditor entered our lives. It feels like forever since we last had a real talk, just the two of us. Was it really only a matter of days ago that we shared such an intimate moment in the attic? Those things I felt can't have been only in my imagination. I refuse to believe that it wasn't real.
But Death seems to think so.
Screw him, I think crossly. I have too much to worry about today as it is. By the time I reach Mem's coffee shop, she's positively hysterical. She reminds me of a trapped wasp, buzzing around aimlessly as her anxiety overflows.
"No one came to set up the tables and chairs, and the PA system is totally busted! I'm still waiting to hear back from the caterer, and I don't think I ever received an email confirmation, so–"
"Mem." I hold her by the shoulders, forcing her to stand still. Her tan forehead is creased with worry, and her lips are raw from being chewed. "Please let me do the worrying today, alright? It will be fine. I'll set up the tables and chairs right now, and you can go call the caterers. You got this."
"Thank you, Cara. I don't know what I'd do without you." Her shoulders sag, and she takes a slow, calming breath. "I just started spiraling out of nowhere. I want today to be perfect, you know?"
"It won't be." I laugh. "But that's okay, too."
We each go our separate ways, and for the next couple of hours I rush around the town square like a crazy person, arranging dining tables, activity stations, catering supplies, and whatever spooky decorations Mem hadn't yet found a place for. Meanwhile, Time makes her endless loop around the square, totally unfazed by the flurry of activity.
Luckily, it's perfect weather for being outside. I painstakingly string up orange and purple lights over a clear patch of grass that will serve as the designated dance floor, and by the time I'm done sweat is streaming down my back under the afternoon sun. Finally, I stand back and admire my work, realizing that not once had I thought about Death or the Auditor or any of the spirits. A sense of accomplishment fills my chest and makes it ache in a good way. It reminds me of how I used to feel when I'd finish a busy shift at my family's restaurant.
"Cara, oh my God!" Mem jogs up behind me, all smiles. Behind her, I can see the food trucks that we'd requested drive up to the square. "This looks amazing! It's all coming together!"
"Yeah, it is," I say, allowing myself a small smile. "Thank you for letting me help this year. It was actually...fun."
"Don't sound so surprised," she teases, nudging me in the ribs. "I bet you're super excited about tonight. Probably nervous, too."
I shrug. "Sure, I guess. I'm not really nervous, though. I feel like the hardest part is over now."
"Oh." Mem frowns.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, I just...thought you'd be more excited. You know, about Death."
I stare at her, suddenly numb all over. "What do you mean?"
Mem's mouth falls open. "The bastard didn't tell you, did he?"
"Umm, tell me what?"
"I swear to God, he is so clueless sometimes!" Mem shakes her head, clearly pissed off. "I can't believe he didn't tell you!"
"Tell me what, Mem? What?" I demand, growing equally irritated.
"From sunset to midnight on the day of Halloween, also known by some cultures as the Day of the Dead, all spirits are granted physical forms and may walk the Earth as humans if they wish. Including Death and his residents. They've been coming to this festival every year for as long as I can remember." I hold out a hand to brace myself, but there's nothing but thin air to hold me up. I feel like my lungs are going to either shrivel up or burst. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier. I really thought that he would have told you, Cara. I don't know what the hell's gotten into him."
So that's why this entire town is obsessed with Halloween; it's literally a celebration of the dead, for the dead.
"He's...going to be here?" I wheeze. "Alive?"
"He should be. Well, just for the night. He usually brings his residents along with him. They enjoy the food and the music and the company. It's their only chance to leave the house."
I feel both rooted to the ground and completely untethered. I think of Lisa's excitement this morning. How could Death have neglected to tell me about this? Unless he'd wanted to all along, and the Auditor forced him to keep quiet. But I find it hard to believe that her opinion would hold so much more weight to him, especially when he'd heard me talking about the festival so much over the last few weeks. He had plenty of opportunities to say something. Clearly, he doesn't care for me at all.
"You okay?" Mem asks, her eyes filling with worry as she scans my gaunt face. She sends little glances over at the food trucks, which I can tell are parked in the wrong spots.
"I'm fine." I nod at the trucks. "You go take care of that. I'll be okay."
She hesitates for a moment before nodding and leaving me in the center of the square.
One thing is for certain, now. If I get through this festival in one piece, it will be a Halloween miracle.
***
Mem was right. I'm a living, breathing bundle of nerves the entire time leading up to the start of the festival. Even as guests start to stroll up to the square, dressed in costumes and plastered in makeup and prosthetics, I find it painful to even manage a smile. For an hour or so, I idly weave through the growing crowds of people and nod my head to the music, forever glancing around in case Death might be strolling up. Mem sidles up to me beside the pumpkin painting table and leans over to whisper in my ear. Her costume is an enchanting mix between a Bollywood dancer and a fortune teller, her brown eyes tapered at the ends with thick eyeliner. I suddenly wish that I was wearing a costume, too. Some kind of disguise.
"You look like a serial killer sizing up her next victim. Try to relax. Everyone's having a great time."
"You know I can't do that," I hiss.
"Well, just pretend to relax, then."
"You make it sound so easy."
Mem flutters off to greet a townsperson, and I find a tree to lean against. She was right: I really need to get myself together. I can't keep having heart palpitations every time I even think of Death. It's not fair to myself, not when he's been acting so cold. Bolstered by a new resolution, I turn on my heel and head straight for the punch bowl that's brimming with floating eyeballs.
It's then, unfortunately, that I see him.
Gorgeous, as always. More than gorgeous, under the light of the dying sun. Radiant. Vital. I catch sight of the V of his chest beneath a finely pressed dress shirt, and it makes me lightheaded.
Lisa frolicks beside him in a pink dress, her face alight with wonder, and even Louis trails a little farther behind, his wrinkled hands stuffed into his trouser pockets as he tilts his head back to take in the sky. In a thoughtless moment of panic, I duck down to the grass before they can notice me, nearly sending a tiny pirate sprawling on her butt.
"Sorry," I tell the child, then I crawl forward to peer at Death and his retinue from beneath the punch bowl table. They all look so happy, so at ease. I watch Death point Lisa towards the tent where she can get her face painted, and she goes off running, squealing that she wants to look like a ballerina. Louis wanders off to the food trucks, leaving Death by himself, and for the first time it hits me that the Auditor is not with him.
Death is alone. Completely alone. His eyes wander the square, alight with a quiet, joy as if he's looking for someone.
Me? My heart squeals, and then my brain tamps it down.
No. He doesn't care about you, remember?
That's a lie, my heart argues. Go to him. You'll see.
Hopeless romantic.
Bitter pessimist.
When I come back to my senses, I realize that I've lost track of him. And then a deep voice rumbles through the Earth, through my very core, from nearby. "Is there something interesting down there?"
Fuck.
I crawl out backwards from under the table, looking thoroughly ridiculous, and brush the grass off of my knees as I stand and face Death, fake smile at the ready. "Oh, hi. Uh, no. I lost an earring down there."
"Sorry to hear. Do you need me to help you look?"
"Nope, I found it." I cringe inwardly at the obvious lie.
"Look." Death flexes his fingers nervously, making me realize how close we are to touching. Actually touching. I take a healthy step back. "I know I owe you a massive explanation, and I'm–"
"Nope, not necessary," I say shortly. I know full well that I sound like an ass and I don't care. "Mem filled me in."
"She did?" He asks, uncertain. "On everything?"
"That depends on how much you've been lying to me about." I inwardly praise myself for keeping my voice level. "So, you tell me. How much don't I know?"
He falls quiet, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water before whispering, "I have so much to tell you. If only I could."
The sun dips behind the nearest building, bathing the square in shadow, and I catch sight of Lisa at the face-painting tent, kicking her small feet in happiness. For the first time since the start of the festival, I feel myself soften a little. I don't want to fight. Not right now, on such a special night. There are other nights for fighting.
Now is a time for miracles.
"Do you want to dance?" I suddenly ask. Death swivels to look at me, his electric eyes widening the slightest bit, as if he doesn't believe what he heard. I raise my eyebrows. "I'm only going to ask once."
"Yes," he says.
I take his hand.