Casey Barnes Eponymous - By E.A. Rigg Page 0,35

I got sick and came home early. When I got here I found Jim on the back porch smoking a doobie.”

Casey, Clayton Gould, and Leigh’s mouths fell open simultaneously.

“You are so dead for never sharing this information with me prior to this moment,” Casey said.

“He told me he only smokes every few months, and I believed him. If it were any more we would’ve known. I saw no need to get you of all people involved and the only reason I took it out just now was for comic effect. And--”

But before Yull could finish that thought, which presumably was that the pot was now going back in its hiding place, Casey, in one swift movement, grabbed the bag and poured some into the brownie batter.

Leigh gasped, Clayton Gould said, “Oh dear,” and Yull yelled “Freak!” as he snatched the pot back from her. But Casey grabbed the bowl, as well as a spoon, held it away from him, and beat the mixture with fury.

“Casey!” Leigh said.

“Next up, your mother introduces a candle that emanates eau du weed,” Casey said. She ran away from Yull, who was now chasing her, took the cup of milk Leigh had previously measured out, dumped it in, and kept beating. Yull again charged her and she tossed the bowl to Leigh.

For another few minutes Casey and Leigh poured ingredients in and mixed while simultaneously playing keep away from Yull. All were treated to a running commentary courtesy of Clayton Gould. Then Casey dumped the batter into a pan while Leigh held Yull at bay, threw the brownies into the oven, and slammed it shut with a bang.

“Set the timer on your watch to twenty minutes!” she barked to Leigh. She then stood sentry in front of the oven door with her arms crossed over her chest.

Yull backed away from Leigh and tossed his hands in the air. “I’ve spent enough time putting energy your way. I have homework to do. And for the record I will in no way, shape, or form bail you out when you take the fall for this.”

Over family dinner two hours later, Tricia was curious about the bake sale for which Casey claimed the brownies were created. They had been spirited away in aluminum-foiled safety to the bottom of her backpack, but the smell of baked goods by way of a girl who could barely boil water brought out the hound dog in Tricia.

“Tell me again, Casey, why the talent show committee decided to have a bake sale.”

Trish’s voice was not lacking in irony. Old Lady Barnes could be weird like that. Just when you thought her to be completely devoid of humor she would whip it out, but so fast and card-trick-like that by the time you realized it happened it was already back in the deck.

“Let’s just say they did, Tricia.”

Before Tricia could respond, the doorbell rang.

“Anyone expecting a guest?” Tricia asked as she got up. Heads shook. A moment later, Tricia reappeared in the dining room with Mrs. Robinson.

“Come here, Casey,” Tricia said.

She got up from the table and went over to them. “Have you had any luck locating Leigh, Mrs. Robinson? I’d sure hate to see her face end up on the side of a milk carton. And I bet she’d hate it even more. Though if it does come to that point, might I recommend you use her school photo from last year and not the one she just took?”

Tricia’s mouth hardened. “Please take this seriously. Leigh has been missing for a day now.”

“Taking it seriously is precisely what I’m doing. Leigh’s eyes are half-closed in her picture this year. Not only that but in her pic from last year she still had her summer tan and bore a striking resemblance to Christie Brinkley in the Billy Joel era.”

“Casey,” Tricia warned.

Mrs. Robinson folded her arms over her chest. “No I have not. And I came over to ask you face to face if you have any idea where she is.”

“Nope.”

After dinner Casey checked on Leigh in her basement hiding place. She made sure she was well-stocked with snacks and magazines and then went upstairs before Tricia got suspicious. When she got back up, she told Tricia she was going to do some homework. And then Tricia got suspicious.

“Really? For what class?”

“Math.”

“Mind showing me when you’re done?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me?”

“I do mind because I can’t. My math teacher has a policy about showing parents homework when we’re done. She says it’s tantamount to getting our parents to