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everyone down under was as obsessed with the Reaper as we were, because Mom asked me if I was holding up okay. She also wondered if I needed her to come home early. I told her that I wasn’t bothered, and that I’d rather she enjoyed her well-deserved vacation. We discussed my exams and college applications. I told her that report cards hadn’t come in yet, and I’d cut the grass tomorrow.
    “ Well, you have my number here, Joel. Call me when you have a minute. I love to hear from you. Love you.”
    “ Bye, Mom. Have fun, okay? Love you too. Bye.”
    I hung up. An eerie feeling overwhelmed me.
    “ What is it, man?” Connor called. “Is everything alright with your mom?”
    “ Yeah, she just got a little worried about that Reaper shithead.” I pointed at the television. The most recent post from his website scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “She was wondering if she should come home.”
    My heart sank. I was suddenly nauseous and I didn’t know why.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
     
     
    S unday came and went. I wrote my first exam on Monday, and four more on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Thanks to Sara’s coaching, I thought that I did pretty well. My world seemed to be a perfect one, outwardly at least. Inside, my mind periodically raced with the anxiety the Reaper had instilled in me, in all of us. I hated him for that.
    My chief concern was for my mom. I just wanted her to enjoy herself. Managing Dad’s business had worn her out, especially with Jake’s dad constantly screwing things up. At least she could relax with Connor’s brother running the place while she was gone. He was a godsend. That was what she called him.
    Mom missed Dad terribly- that was why I liked her to get away from it all once a year and just live. But now this asshole Reaper was messing that up. God, I hoped that they would get him soon. It would be awful if he really had the means to carry out his threats. Maybe that was why the government didn’t appear to be concerned about him; maybe his claims were so ridiculous that they couldn’t possibly come to pass. That was a comforting thought.
    On Wednesday afternoon I took my mother’s car into town. I thought I might as well pick up what groceries I could for the camping weekend and save us from subsisting on the overpriced chips and hot dogs that the country stores tried to sell to campers as perfect outdoors food. When I returned home, rain began dotting my windshield. Again! “Why doesn’t it let up already?” I wondered.
    I rolled down my window and yelled up to the addition. “Hey Kev, get out here and help me unload this shit.” I saw his face press against the rain-streaked glass, followed by a thumbs-up.
    When everything was put away, Kevin led me into the addition to study his newest piece. He wasn’t happy with it. He was on a dark symbolism streak that began in school, and even though he’d been accepted to art college, he couldn’t seem to shake the dire imagery.
    “ If you’re having trouble coming up with disturbing shit to paint, I should let you get inside my dreams.”
    “ Do tell Joel, what sort of things are you dreaming about these days?” So I told him, and predictably, he was quite taken by the imagery of skunks and storm clouds. “Would you care if I used those? I’ve got great visuals in my head for them.”
    “ Sure. You can copyright them for all I care.”
    I left Kevin frantically sketching in his book, and went out to the back yard to cut the grass, as the rain had tapered off for the moment. Just as I was starting up the ride-on lawnmower, I saw the three-legged skunk standing only thirty feet from me, staring. A shiver ripped down my spine.
    “ Okay, this is really starting to freak me out,” I said aloud. He broke his stare and began hopping toward me. Jesus- was that thing rabid? I threw the mower into high gear and fled. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Stinky gaining on me. Suddenly the mower stalled. I jumped off, slipped