I flashed the light again, this time aiming right into his face.
Nothing. He didn’t move.
The image of the slave in the movie who had been turned to a Zombie flashed in my mind. The slave didn’t blink, he didn’t move, he just stared straight ahead.
I flashed the light again, two times.
Nick didn’t blink. He didn’t move, he didn’t do anything but stare straight ahead, seeing nothing.
Was Nick turning into a Zombie?
And had I caused it?
Chapter Three
“Matthew, we’re going to be late for church,” Mom called from the front door.
Chief ran down the stairs as I slipped on my shoes. “Coming,” I called. I grabbed my offering envelope from my dresser and ran down after him.
My mom looked beautiful. She had long blonde hair and a great smile. She was waiting for me at the door, holding Chief so he wouldn’t escape. “Dad and Ryan are already in the car.”
“I’m coming.” Most of my friends are embarrassed by their parents, but I felt lucky to have hip parents. My big brother Ryan hated doing anything with the family. He was too cool to hang around with us. He said Mom was over-protective (she is a mom after all, and a nurse too) and he called Dad a nerd because he wore glasses and had a plastic pocket protector in his shirt every day of the week.
As Mom and I walked down the driveway to the SUV, I looked over at Nick’s house. No lights were on, but the house looked different. It looked dark, closed, and empty. Like a place a Zombie might live.
Why didn’t Nick answer my flashlight message last night? He always did.
“You can run over to Nick’s house after lunch. I’m sure you boys will make some plans at church to go to a movie or something.”
“Mom, last night—” I started, but Dad beeped the horn to hurry us along, and I was cut off.
The organ music started, and Nick’s family’s pew was mysteriously empty. Everyone stood as Pastor Paul stepped up to the pulpit. “Good morning,” he said.
The congregation repeated, “Good morning,” and church was underway. There was no mention of Nick’s absence at all. Where was he?
“Where do you want to eat lunch today?” Dad asked as we pulled out of the church’s parking lot.
“Can’t we just go home?” Ryan asked.
“Ryan, this is family time. Indulge us for one hour.”
“Just don’t go anywhere my friends can see us,” Ryan said.
Mom rolled her eyes. “We can go anywhere you guys want to go. No preferences?”
Ryan loved pizza, but grease and sugar gave him zits. My mom hated that word, so I called it acne. Mom and Dad love Chinese food, but I only like plain cheeseburgers and fries. Mac and cheese is my other favorite meal, but my mom makes it best.
“Matthew, where would you like to go?” Dad asked.
Nick loved tacos and nachos. Maybe he and his family went out for lunch instead of going to church. “We haven’t been to Loco Taco in a long time.”
Ryan groaned.
“It has been a long time,” Dad agreed.
“I’ll stay in the car,” Ryan said.
“Where would you like to go?” Mom asked.
“I told you, home.” Ryan turned his back to me and looked out the side window.
“Loco Taco it is,” Dad said.
Ryan banged his forehead against the glass. An oily smear was left on the clean window.
“It’s right on the way home, Ryan,” Mom said. “Besides, they’re fast. You’ll be home even sooner.”
“Good,” came out from clenched teeth.
Dad pulled into the parking lot, and we scrambled inside. “Dad, can I?”
“Matthew,” my dad’s voice rose.
“Oops, sorry; may I have a few quarters to play the pinball machine?”
Dad was already reaching into his pocket. He pulled out four quarters and handed two to me and two to Ryan.
Ryan looked at the coins. “I don’t want to play pinball.”
“Afraid your little brother will beat you?” Dad asked and raised his eyebrows.
“No,” he said with a flat voice.
“You could play the jukebox,” Mom said.
Ryan looked up from under his hair that hung down into his eyes. “I can play anything I want?”
Mom pursed her lips. “If it will make you happy, play whatever you want.”
Ryan took the two coins.
“Come place your order at the counter and then you boys can go play,” Dad said, touching my shoulder.
I ran up and ordered two plain tacos, potato rancheros, and a water. I didn’t wait for Ryan’s order; the pinball machine was calling. I know it wasn’t a video game, or even one of those cool pinball machines with Star Wars or Harry Potter. This was one like my dad’s dad must’ve played on when he was a little boy.
Racing around the corner into the game room, I ran right into Little Cody Johnson.
“Hey, Matthew, running to the bathroom before you wet your pants?” Cody said with a sneer.
I stepped back. “We’re not in first grade anymore, or are you?” I asked.
Cody looked behind me. “Where’s your buddy Nick? Walking around in the graveyard? Trying to eat people alive?” He stuck his arms out straight in front of himself and stumbled around like he was looking for something.
I shook my head.
Cody bumped into Ryan as he walked around the corner. “Watch it,” Ryan warned.
Cody looked up at him. “Getting your brother to fight for you?”
“CODY!” an elderly woman’s voice called. “Your food is getting cold.”
I smiled at the look that passed over Cody’s face.
Ryan stepped aside and Cody took off. “Watch out for the kids you hang around with. You don’t want to hang around with bullies like that.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said and headed to the pinball machine.
Ryan walked over, slipped one quarter in, and pressed some buttons on the jukebox. He set the other quarter on the glass on the pinball machine. “Enjoy.” He rubbed my head with his hand.
“Thanks, Ryan,” I said as I slipped one coin into the slot. The pinball machine dinged and all the numbers rolled back to zeros. I pressed the buttons on the slide and the flippers thumped over and over. A metal ball dropped into the shoot and I pulled back the plunger. Zing! The ball rolled around the top of the machine as the lights binged, bonged, and boinged.
I played my two quarters, before picking up Ryan’s. Instead of slipping it into the pinball machine, I turned and walked over to the jukebox and inserted it. Quickly, I picked out Ryan’s favorite songs and headed back to the table. I made a wide trip around Cody and ignored his piggy face as he stuffed nachos into his mouth with both hands.
The waitress served my food just as I sat down. One of Ryan’s favorite songs played.
He looked up and turned to me. He smiled for the first time in a month. He tapped my leg with his and I smiled.
Halfway through lunch, I looked up as Cody stood up and headed to the door.
He saw me staring at him. “Hey, Matthew, say hi to Nick,” Cody called as he Zombie walked out of Loco Taco.
Dad pulled into the driveway and parked the SUV. I jumped out. “Mom?”
She knew from the pleading look on my face what I wanted before I asked.
“Yes, you can run over to Nick’s, but come right back and change before you decide to do anything else.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I cut across the lawns, jumped over the sprinkler, and bounded up Nick’s front steps. I pressed the doorbell and heard it echo inside the house. Several minutes went by and I rang the bell again.
Nothing.
I pushed the button one more time, and the door swung open. Nick’s dad stood there dripping wet with a blue robe on.
“Matthew. Hi,” he said as he pushed his wet hair out of his face.
A spray of water splashed into my face, so I s
tepped back. “Is Nick home?” I asked.
Nick’s dad stood there, water pooling on the entryway floor. No smile, no welcome gestures to come inside. My stomach sank.
“Matthew, Nick’s in the hospital, and I have to hurry and get back there.” Nick’s dad said and closed the door firmly in my face.
Chapter Four
Monday morning I stood on the sidewalk in front of Nick’s house and waited. I looked down at my Spiderman watch. If Nick didn’t hurry, we’d be late for school.
Was he back from the hospital? What was wrong with him? Had he turned into a Zombie?
Nick’s front door finally opened, and his mom stepped out onto their porch. “Matthew,” she sniffed and wiped her red nose, “Nick’s not going to school today.”
Before I could ask if he was home or still in the hospital, she closed the door.
What’s going on?
As I neared the playground, Jake ran over. His backpack was slung over one shoulder. “Matthew, where’s Nick? I heard so much about him. I wanted to see the Amazing Zoltan so bad, but my mom made us go to Grandma’s house. How many hours of Antique Roadshow can you stand before your brain bleeds out your ears?” Jake spoke so fast his words tripped over each other as they left his mouth. He took a breath and then said, “I want to see him do the Zombie.”
“What?” exploded out of my mouth.
“I said, Matthew, where’s Nick? I heard so much about him. I wanted to see the Amazing Zoltan…”
I held up my hand and stopped him from repeating the entire conversation over, word for word. Jake had a photographic memory. He was my other best friend, but he lived on the other side of town, so I didn’t get to sleep over at his house as often, or get to see him as much on the weekends.
“Jake, take a breath,” I said. “I’m not sure what’s up with Nick. His dad said he was in the hospital yesterday, and his mom looked like she had been crying this morning.”
“Is he home? Is he in the hospital? Is he—”
I held up my hand again. He just didn’t know how to take it slow. “I don’t know. No one told me anything.”
Little Cody Johnson strutted up to us. “Where’s the Zombie?”
Jake turned to me. “Nick’s still a Zombie?”
“Ask your friend,” Cody pointed to me. “He asked Zoltan to turn him into a Zombie and now he’s the walking dead. You killed your best friend.”
I stepped back. “No, I didn’t,” I said.
Jake looked at me, questioning me.
The school bell rang and everyone raced to the door. I watched as everyone ran to his or her class.
Cody smirked at me. “What are you going to turn your buddy Jake into today?” He turned and ran as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.
I took a deep breath and followed.
Nick’s desk stood empty in front of me. I had a better view of the dry erase board than I have ever had. So, that’s what Nick’s head hid from me all this time, I laughed to myself. But my joke didn’t make me feel any better. I’d rather have Nick back, instead of seeing the board.
Mrs. Hubers, our teacher, took attendance and the day started. Math dragged on and on, fraction after fraction. Vocabulary had simple words this week, and in social studies we learned about the Civil War. Reading went by quickly, but the class was cut in half so we could go into the library to find new books to read.
During our library time, I pulled the “Z” volume from the set of encyclopedias off the shelf. Most of my classmates used the computer to look up new books, but Ryan had warned me about being careful of what you searched for online. The librarian, Mrs. Thorp, was always checking to see what the students were looking at. The encyclopedia seemed the safest route. No one would know what I was looking up. My fingers flipped through the pages and finally found Zombie.
A Zombie, according to the voodoo religion, was a human being whose soul had been stolen by supernatural means or black magic. They are forced to work for their Zombie master. They were primarily used as slaves, such as on sugar cane plantations in the south. They are thought to be an undead person, but in the movies, they have been portrayed as flesh-eating monsters.
A picture of a hideous face with jagged teeth looked up from the page. Its eyes were white and unseeing.
A hand touched my shoulder from behind the bookshelf. The book flew from my hands as I gasped.
“Matthew,” Jake whispered. “What are you doing? What are you looking up? What—”
“Shhhhh,” hissed at us from the end of the row of bookshelves. “Keep your voices down,” Mrs. Thorp yelled.
Jake nudged me. “But yelling is allowed?”
I bumped him with my arm as I bent to pick up the dropped book. Quickly, I straightened the pages and closed it. I pushed the encyclopedia back into place. Shrugging my shoulders I pointed to the book, giving Mrs. Thorp the most apologetic look I could muster. “It slipped.”
Her glasses hung around her neck on a beaded chain. She reached down and put them on the end of her nose. “You boys, come here.”
Jake dashed off into the sports section, before she could see who he was. Once, Jake had to stay after school for a week, because Mrs. Thorp caught him throwing water balloons out the window.
I walked down the aisle to her desk, hanging my head and waiting for the scolding.
The final bell rang, and I slipped through the gym and cut through the locker room. Luckily, Mrs. Thorp hadn’t assigned me detention, and she let me go with a stern reminder of how to behave in the library. If I exited the school from the back, I could walk across the football field and be home in half the time. It also meant I would avoid walking home with Little Cody Johnson.
Ryan’s music blasted from his room as I entered the house. I dropped my backpack on the kitchen table, grabbed an ice cream bar, and headed up to my room. Chief’s head popped up as I entered my bedroom. He was curled up on my pillow, waiting for me to come home. I glanced out the window at Nick’s bedroom.
The curtains were closed.
Is he home? Should I go check?
“Chief, let’s go out—” He jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs barking before I could even finish my sentence.
Outside, I threw the old tennis ball into Nick’s backyard.
Chief’s happy barks echoed between our homes. Nick always came out to join us playing ball. I looked at his house.
His back door never opened.
That night, as I headed to bed, I once again looked out my bedroom window. But instead of looking at Nick’s window, something made me look down into his backyard.
Chief’s white tennis ball lay in Nick’s backyard. My eyes followed it, and then I saw Nick.
He stood on his lawn, looking into the night in his flannel pajamas. He didn’t look up at me. He didn’t look at my house. He just stood there, staring out into the night, seeing nothing.
Chapter Five
The week dragged by, and finally, it was Friday. As I entered the classroom, I noticed the desk in front of mine was taken. Nick was back in school.
Well, sort of.
“Nick,” I said as I walked to my desk.
He sat there and said nothing. He didn’t wave. He didn’t smile. He didn’t even say “hi”. He just sat staring straight ahead and waited for class to start.
“You’re back,” I said, but the last bell rang before I could say anything else. The rest of the students rushed to their seats. I passed him and took my seat. I didn’t see Nick on the way to school. He must have left earlier or his father dropped him off. Funny, his dad didn’t offer me a ride.
Class started as Mrs. Hubers took attendance. When she called Nick’s name, she looked over at his seat and put a check in her book.
Everyone else said, “Here,” but Nick didn’t. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t nod or raise his hand.
Why didn’t Mrs. Hubers expect him to answer?
“Matthew,” she called.
“Here,” I said, and settled back into
my chair.
In the middle of the morning, Mrs. Hubers looked at the clock. “Nick, you need to go to the school nurse’s office.”
Nick’s blank eyes stared forward.
“Nick? Did you hear me?” Mrs. Hubers asked.
I tapped him gently on the shoulder and he rose stiffly. His body didn’t bend or twist, it turned on his seat as one solid piece. He grabbed his desk as he rose. He teetered and tottered to the door as he tried to leave the classroom.
“Hey, Matthew, your best friend’s a Zombie,” Cody said, and the whole class laughed.
“Class, settle down,” Mrs. Hubers said. She turned to me. “Matthew, can you go along with Nick and make sure he gets to the nurse’s office?”
I stood and rushed to the door and held it open for him.
Nick didn’t blink, he continued to walk through the door and headed down the hall.
The door swung shut, and I followed close behind. I wondered if I should grab his arm and help him down the hall, or was he able to make it on his own?
His feet shuffled down the marble floor and his knees never bent.
“Nick, I’m so glad you are back. Are you feeling better?”
Nick stopped. He turned his whole body to look at me. He didn’t say anything. He turned and continued down the hall.
We walked to the nurse’s office, and I opened the door. Nick walked through and sat down on the wooden bench.
“Matthew, it was nice of you to come along with Nick. We shouldn’t be too long,” Nurse Evans said. She had worked with my mom at the hospital, but took the job here when her son, James, went to school. James had seizures and needed special care at times.
I wasn’t sure if he needed a shot or something, so I stepped out into the hall to wait for him.
“Nick, come on in here and have a seat.”
Nick jerked to his feet and shuffled to where she pointed.
Nurse Evans took out a bottle from the refrigerator and shook it up. It was dark red in color. She took a big needle from the cabinet and stuck the tip into the bottle, she drew up the liquid into the tube and a dark red substance filled the plastic.
Is that blood? I leaned forward to get a better look, when I felt someone standing next to me, and I jumped.
Oh No, Our Best Friend is a Zombie! Page 2
