What if death, the Grim Reaper, really is a skeleton, like you see in all the medieval paintings and tapestries, and even wears a scary cloak with a cowl?
What would you do if the Grim Reaper started growing in your backyard when your little sister was sick? So sick she has to go to the hospital multiple times?
Twelve-year-old Stanley isn't sure, at first, what the skeleton is. First a finger bone, then all the fingers, then an arm, and the skull and ribs and spine wiggle out of the earth in Stanley's backyard.
His little sister Miren waters it, encouraging it to grow. He and his best friend, Jaxon, try to get a picture of it for a National Geographic's Young Discoverer contest, but somehow it's always moving and nothing but a blur in the photos.
Why is it emerging now? And once it's fully grown, and dancing inside the house and making Miren laugh (she names it Princey), why can only the kids and the nanny, Ms. Francine, see it? Why can't their mom? Or anyone else, except that one nurse at the hospital?
This story starts out touching all the right creepy beats, but morphs oh so slowly into the inevitable sad tale it must be, because the Grim Reaper never shows up for no reason. But that doesn't mean he, or what he does, must be scary. What if Princy's job is to gather the dead in the kindest, gentlest manner possible?
This story will make you cry ugly tears.
Enjoy!
