Josie shrugged. “I told you. He’s changed.” Actually, she’d gotten them for the bedroom, which he never went to anymore. He spent night and day in that chair. Still, she hoped that one day, he’d shower and rejoin her—and if he noticed the new curtains, he’d appreciate it. Besides, she needed something to cheer herself up, especially after the phone call from that Carol Lyffe, Zombie Exterminator Woman. Telling her that her husband was a reanimated corpse that would kill and infect her when given the right motivation. She’d even offered to come all the way from California and re-kill him for her!
After she’d hung up on her, she’d put the shotgun on top of the television set where Jeb could grab it fast and told him she was going shopping and to open the door for no one.
“That’s a lot of Febreze,” Audrey said.
Josie didn’t want to admit the reporter had been right about that, too. “It … was on sale.”
Audrey dragged her to the in-store McDonald’s and treated her to a biggie size McNuggets and chocolate shake. She chowed down on her own cheeseburger and fries while Josie told her about the very nice phone call she’d gotten from a woman representing the “Zombies Are People, Too” movement.
“They’re really interested in Jeb and me joining—apparently, we’re still the only case where an undead hasn’t come back a murderous shambling monster. ’Course I don’t see how we can. Jeb’s got so many needs now, and …”
Instead of smiling, Audrey asked, “Honey, are you really all right? ’Cause we’re all worried about you.”
How many times had Audrey stuffed her with fast food and asked her that question? The reply came automatically. “Oh, it’s hard sometimes, but really, we’re fine.”
Then she laughed. “Actually, things are better. We sit and watch TV. Would you believe I’m getting a liking for that horror stuff he loves so? Guess after having my man come back from the dead, it’s gonna take more to shock me. Plus, I talk to him—really talk to him. Like we used to when we was dating. He don’t answer much—he can only grunt, still. If I can just find a way to break through—”
“Did you ask him about her?” Audrey demanded.
That evening, Josie tied the large square cloth around Jeb’s neck, careful not to block his view. She’d already emptied a can of Febreze so that all she smelled was Lilac Summer. “There now! Do you like it? It’s got little deer on it. Remember how you used to hunt deer?”
Jeb grunted and held out his empty can.
When she’d replaced it with an open cold one, she sat down on the chair beside him. She steeled herself. Audrey was right; if they were going to move on, they had to discuss this. She just had to find the right way.
“Jeb, honey, remember when we were dating? You were so handsome, and strong.” She bit her lip, looking at how the lights from the television reflected off the pale, sickly color of his embalmed skin. The TV played some alien invasion movie, and the strobing lights highlighted more than the horror of the thing lurking in the shadows.
Maybe she shouldn’t concentrate on his looks.
“And you were so protective of me! Remember? Remember when I cast flirty eyes on Carson Fielding? And you broke his nose?” And that night Jeb had shoved her hard against the back seat, screaming at her to stay away from that loser. She’d been so terrified—yet so drawn to his passion.
“‘No one can love you like I do!’ you told me. ‘You’re mine and mine alone.’ Do you remember that? I do, like it was yesterday. And that’s how it’s always been, Jeb. I’m for you and you alone.”
She waited for his reaction, but his eyes continued to stare dully at the TV as the scantily clad woman made a run for the airlock. Maybe she shouldn’t have picked the most exciting scene to have this discussion. Too late now. She swallowed and steeled herself.
“Jeb. There was … a woman at the funeral. Your funeral. She said that you and she were … She wasn’t nasty about it, either. Said that now that you were, well, were dead, we should comfort each other. But Jeb, I gotta know. Were you and she—did you and that woman …?”
Jeb grunted and took a swig of his beer.
She took his hand in both of hers. She sniffled. “All right, then. I suppose it’s enough that you chose to come home to me.”
She felt a tickling on her palm. At first, she thought he was being frisky. Then she saw the cockroach.
Swallowing, she palmed it and rose to kill it outside. He didn’t need to know. She didn’t need him to know.
Josie glared at the mirror as she applied more blush. She puckered her lips and struck a pose. Last night, she’d washed her hair in mayonnaise and slept in rollers to tame her frizz into bouncy curls. So she wasn’t the beauty she was thirty years ago; Audrey always said, “You have more confidence when you look good.” She was going to look as good as she could.
She walked into the room, a rose-scented hankie up to her nose in part to calm her and in part to mask the smell of Lilac Summer and insecticide. She looked over to make sure Jeb was all right, and noted with disgust that the roaches had made it past the circle of Borax she’d put around his chair again. Well, she’d spray the area down with Raid in a bit. First, she was going to make that phone call. Now, while the TV was playing the quiet scene where the campers were about to have sex before the murderous madman broke through the door with a chainsaw.
I can’t do this alone anymore, she reminded herself. I need to get professional help. We need professional help.
Still, her fingers trembled and hesitated as she dialed.
A warm, caring voice answered. “You’re talking to Dr. Wilson. Who’s this?”
Suddenly, despite her best intentions, the tears came. Oh, she so did not want to sniffle on the radio. She took a deep breath. “Josie Gump, doctor.”
“The Josie Gump? Wow! How can I help you, Josie? Things not going so well with Jebediah?”
See? That’s just why she chose to call the Relationships with Doctor Wilson show. He just knew how to zero in on a problem. Now remember what you practiced. Be positive, like Momma always said. “Well, I know I shouldn’t complain, and I really am grateful to have him back. A house needs a man, if you know what I mean. But all he does is sit there and stare at the TV. Night and day, day and night, and—”
“Have you told him how you feel?” he interrupted, but now that she’d started, all the pain welling up in her wouldn’t let her stop to answer.
“And it’s grunt for a beer, and grunt for another. And I don’t even know where they all go! Literally, Doctor. He never, never gets up from that chair—”
“Have you talked to him, Josie?”
Next, the guilt tumbled out. “And when that reporter talked about a smell, I thought he was criticizing me. He was trying to tell me about Jeb, and I sicced the dogs on him. I feel so bad about what Buford did to his—”
The doctor rose his voice without yelling. “Josie! Have you talked to him?”
“The reporter? I sent him a nice card.” She kicked herself. Now she sounded like a twit. She glanced at the living room, but Jeb was absorbed in the make-out scene on the screen.
Dr. Wilson was kind enough not to laugh. “Jebediah, dear. Have you told Jebediah how his behavior makes you feel?”
“Well, I tried? All he does is watch TV. He don’t even look at me anymore.”
Wilson grunted, as if she’d said the most important thing. “You have to make him look at you, Josie. Didn’t you turn his head once?”
Josie glanced at herself in the reflection of her steel sink. What was she thinking? “I’m not that pretty anymore.”
“Every woman is beautiful to the man who married her. Get yourself dolled up, Josie. Get dolled up, turn off the television and remind him that you’re his woman, and you need his attention, too.”
Something in his voice made her think of evenings in the back seat at the drive-in. She’d certainly had his attention then. “Welllll, I thought you might say that, so I got prettied up before I called. But …”
&n
bsp; Did he hear her renewed uncertainty? He said, “Go, Josie. Set the phone down so we can hear what happens. I promise to hang up if it gets too … attentive.”
She giggled. He was as bad as Audrey had been senior year. “Go for it, Josie-girl! I promise, Kenny and I will be too busy to watch!”
She glanced at the TV. The girl on the screen had just pulled off her shirt. Perfect timing.
She set the phone down, let herself thrill in the sound of her heels clacking against the linoleum. She was young, beautiful and in love—and she would remind him of what he was missing. That Woman didn’t have anything on her—and if death wasn’t going to stop him from returning to her, death wasn’t going to keep him aloof from her either! Besides, some of their best times had been when she got tired of watching the make-out scenes and took charge before the madman crashed through the door. How had she forgotten that? No more.
“Oh, Jebbers … how about some real entertainment for a change?” she purred as she trailed her arm across his back and chest while she circled his chair. He grunted dully as she passed between him and the TV. She leaned forward, twitched her shoulders the way that used to drive him wild. Then she threw her head back and reached for her shirt.
He lolled his head to one side, trying to see around her.
Sudden irritation spiked her sexy mood. Who cares if the guy was sliding off the girl’s shorts? Wouldn’t Jeb rather do that with her for once? If she could put up with the smell of Raid, he could put up with a few minutes without the TV. Probably all he was up for, anyway.
She turned, sticking her butt out invitingly, and reached to snap off the television.
Jeb opened his mouth and let out a bellow worthy of a Lovecraftian horror film.
Josie spun back to glare at him, hands on hips. On the TV, the couple had embraced, but the music was turning suspenseful. “Now don’t get so mad! I just want a little of your—no! No!”
Jeb rose.
He opened his mouth to bellow again, but this time, intoxicated cockroaches spilled out of his mouth and staggered at his feet.
Josie screamed and backed up fast, spilling the TV off its stand just as the madman broke through the door with a chainsaw. The girl’s screams blended with her own. The dogs leaped from the couch and started barking, unsure what to do. Over the radio, she heard Dr. Wilson telling someone to call 9-1-1.
Jeb took a step toward Josie, and Pinkie made up his mind. He leapt at the master that had hated him, knocking him to the ground. Jeb hit the corner of the TV stand, and his nose fell off.
Again, Josie screamed, but this time, it was rage, not fear. He really was dead! Her momma, her preacher, that exterminator woman—they had all tried to tell her, and she didn’t listen. Oh, sure! He’d come back to her, just like nothing had happened, like all he needed was a little attention. And she fell for it, too, taking care of him, guarding his pride …
He’d duped her again!
As Jeb swung awkwardly at the toy poodle, which jumped on him and snapped at the roaches on his chest, Josie grabbed the shotgun from where it fell beside the TV. She took aim.
She screamed, “This is the last straw, Jeb! The. Last. Straw! You’re not the man I married. You’re not even a man! You’re a corpse! You lied to me for the last time! Pinkie, heel!”
The dog bounded to her feet, and she emptied both barrels into Jebediah’s dead and decaying head. Not like there’d been much of a brain in there, anyway.
Then she snatched up her keys and pocketbook, called for the dogs and got into the car.
She’d go to Audrey’s, but just long enough to borrow some shoes. Then, maybe she’d drive to California, meet up with that exterminator woman. People had to know, when the dead died—they didn’t come back. All the love in the world wouldn’t make them come back. They were just dead!
And if Jeb hadn’t come back a murderous shambling monster, it was because he was too damn lazy to make the effort!
Karina Fabian does not actually like zombies, except as a vehicle for humor. Her unique take on zombies as just another pest needing extermination is the basis of her Neeta Lyffe, Zombie Exterminator series, in which Josie plays a minor role. Karina writes science fiction parodies and humorous fantasy novels. She also writes serious science fiction. To pay the bills, she writes freelance articles on software and edits a local magazine. fabianspace.com.
The Last Drive-in Movie
B.D. Prince
The Last Drive-in Movie
Howard Pierce rushed through the front door, ignoring his arthritic knees screaming at him. The screen door slammed behind him. “Ellie … I’ve got a surprise for you!”
His wife wasn’t in her chair reading one of her sci-fi or mystery novels like he expected. He shouted into the kitchen. “Ellie?”
The kitchen was vacant, too.
Howard’s heart sank. No. Not today. Don’t let this be the day. Please, Lord, just one more day with her.
He hurried to the bedroom, his aching knees forgotten, half-expecting to see the love of his life lying on the floor. Please, not today.
The room was still, the air stifling. The bed was made, each corner tucked neatly. But no napping Ellie. He quickly checked the floor on both sides of the bed. Empty.
The bathroom door sat ajar. When he reached the doorway he heard her retch. “Ellie? You all right?”
“Don’t come in—” Her words were interrupted by another loud retch and the sound of vomit splashing in the toilet. The door slammed shut before Howard could enter.
“I’m sorry,” she said from the other side of the door. “You know I don’t like you to see me this way.”
Howard wrung his hands. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. It’s just that darn pain medication. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Howard paced in front of the bathroom door, listening to the toilet flush and Ellie gargle. Finally, the door opened. His wife of fifty years emerged, her bones holding up her cotton nightgown. Her face was drawn and ashen, a kerchief tied over her head.
“Sorry, honey. I look dreadful enough without you having to see me like that.”
Howard shook his head and smiled. Not today.
“I promised you for better or worse. Besides, you’re still cute as a button.” He tapped the tip of her nose.
“And you’re still blind as a bat.” She grinned and walked into his waiting embrace. “So, what’s all the excitement about?”
“I got tickets to the drive-in!” Howard held them up, grinning from ear to ear.
“I thought they were going to tear it down and build more condos …”
“It’s their last week. I thought it’d be fun to go one last time. Be just like our first date!”
Ellie laughed. “I was so nervous that day. I think I threw up then, too!”
“You? I accidentally put my aftershave on twice. I rolled down the windows and drove around the block a few times before I picked you up to reduce the smell.”
“It didn’t help,” Ellie chuckled. “Lucky for you, I’m a sucker for an Aqua Velva man!” Her musical laughter devolved into a coughing fit.
She wavered on her feet. Her knees buckled and Howard caught her before she hit the floor.
He helped her to the bed. As her energy drained the coughing slowed. She struggled to catch her breath. Howard fumbled with the portable oxygen tank next to the bed. He helped her get the canula affixed to her nose and breathed along with her until she was breathing normally again.
“Are you sure you’re up to going to the drive-in, dear?”
She gave him a sly grin. “Just try and stop me.”
Resting in her favorite recliner, Ellie set her paperback copy of Jack Finney’s The Body Snatchers on the end table next to her Bible so Natalie, the large African-American hospice nurse, could strap a blood-pressure cuff around her arm.
“Make sure you give me a clean bill of health, Natalie. I have a hot date tonight!”
The hospice nurse threw her head back and laughed
with her whole body. “I’m afraid I’m fresh out of B-12 shots, honey.” She turned to Howard and pointed. “And don’t even think about asking me for any of those little blue pills.”
Howard raised his hands in surrender.
After the hospice nurse finished taking Ellie’s vitals, she checked her oxygen canister. “How’s your O2 supplies, Mrs. Pierce?”
Howard answered for her. “I just picked up a couple fresh canisters yesterday.”
Natalie leaned over and looked Ellie in the eye. Her jovial tone turned serious. “And how’s your pain level, dear?”
Ellie shrugged and grimaced. “Seeing it’s been seven months since the doctors gave me six months to live, I suppose it could be worse.”
Natalie shook her head. “Ain’t no pride in sufferin’, honey. You know I got the good stuff.”
“Thanks, Natalie, but it tears my stomach up something awful. And it makes me downright loopy.” Ellie sighed and gazed longingly at Howard. “Besides, I want to be at my best for that hot date.”
The hospice nurse let loose another one of her full body laughs. “Guess I better finish up here and leave you two alone.”
Howard stood before the bathroom mirror and wiped the shaving cream residue from his face with a hand towel. He rubbed his hand across each cheek. Smooth as a baby’s bottom. Just the way Ellie liked it.
Opening the medicine cabinet mirror, he retrieved the aftershave. He uncapped the bottle and gave it a sniff. There’s something about an Aqua Velva man. Howard chuckled and shook his head. Careful not to splash too much aftershave into his palm, he rubbed his hands together and patted his cheeks. The alcohol stung.
Ellie appeared behind him in the mirror holding a selection of wigs. “What shall it be tonight? Sassy redhead? Then again, I hear blondes have more fun …”
“How about the bookish brunette I fell in love with?”
“You got it, handsome.”
Monsters, Movies & Mayhem Page 32
