Dear Blue Sky by Mary Sullivan Page A

after school sometime. “I’ll get you whatever you want. How about the chocolate pie?”
    He kept looking at me. “Cass, you’re like me now.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    â€œYou wear the same thing every day.” He pointed at Sef’s sweatshirt, then looked down at his camouflage outfit.
    Of course Jack would notice something that made me more like him. He once said, “You have my eyes, Cassie.” I told him, “Yours are darker, Jack. See?” We stood side by side in the mirror. “No,” he said. “The way they look is the same. They look far, far, far away.” He said it in his high, lilting voice, and it was true.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    That night as I ran I thought I heard Sef calling to me like he used to.
Cassie, Cassie
. I ran into the dark, faster and faster, trying to find him in the trees, the white of the headlights, the wind. The leaves trailed me like ghosts. If I ran fast enough, then I thought I could find him. He was out there. Was he trying to tell me something?
    I was running past Sonia’s when their car stopped just ahead of me. Her mother opened the window and poked her head out.
    My sweatpants and sneakers were splattered with mud, and I was sweaty and gross. Susan’s blond hair feathered over her shoulders, and her lips were shiny red. There was something so neat and perfect about her, like Sonia. And her father was like that too. No one would ever find any jelly or cannoli cream on the corners of his mouth or on his shirt.
    â€œHi, Cassie,” she said. “We haven’t seen you in ages. How is everyone? How’s Sef?”
    â€œUh, he’s pretty good. Says it’s crazy over there, but he’s doing all right,” I said.
    â€œAnd how’s your family holding up?” Susan asked.
    â€œWe’re doing all right, thanks. Hanging in there, as Sef says.”
    â€œWe haven’t seen you for a while.” She turned to the passenger seat. I heard her say, “Sonia, aren’t you going to say hi?”
    Sonia half waved. She seemed so far away from me. She didn’t have to imagine that someone could come to our door to tell us that Sef was dead. That was my job. She was in another world. I watched her flip her hair back and turn to the window.
    â€œWe better let you go. It’s getting late. Be careful running out here in this mess.” Susan smiled at me.
    â€œI will.”
    I took off into the night, running like crazy, the fall air whipping on my face.

CHAPTER 18
    WAR IS STUPID
    ALL THANKSGIVING MORNING, Mom walked around with the phone in her hand while Dad cooked the turkey and made the mashed potatoes. Van slept all morning. I made corn muffins. There was no gravy, no stuffing, no squash with marshmallow and brown sugar. Sef was eight hours ahead of us, so by early afternoon, Mom had put the phone back in its holder. CNN blasted through the house.
    When we sat down at the table, I asked, “What are we thankful for this year?”
    â€œI’d be thankful if we could turn that damn TV off for once today. At least we could eat in some peace and quiet,” Dad said.
    â€œNo,” Mom said. “Please, no. It’s my only connection to—”
    â€œWhat about us, Mom? We’re right here,” Van said.
    Surprised, we all turned to Van, then Mom.
    Mom pointed to the TV. The CNN lady with a blond helmet of hair was saying, “One of the deadliest attacks in the entire Iraq War has killed more than one hundred and fifty people, and hundreds more are expected to be injured. A coordinated mortar and bomb attack hit a major market in Sadr City, a Shiite slum of Baghdad. Nearly one hundred fifty thousand US troops are spending Thanksgiving in Iraq far away from family—”
    â€œI told you.” Mom’s face went pale. “I knew it.”
    â€œShut the TV off, Jack,” Dad said. “Don’t, Grace. There are a hundred and fifty