Brains for the Zombie Soul (a parody)

by Michelle Hartz

  The doctor led us to another floor, talking along the way. “I have some bad news and possibly some good news.”

  “Give me the bad news first,” said the dad.

  “Your wife passed away a few hours ago,” the doctor said. Before the dad and son could react, the doctor continued, “But she came back to life.”

  “You mean she’s a zombie?” said the dad.

  The doctor nodded, and opened the door to a room. A rather haggard woman sat on a bed inside. “Mom!” cried the boy, and ran into her arms. “I got you a present,” he said, but stopped.

  He turned to me. “Wait, can I still give it to her?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Does Santa give presents to zombies?”

  “Of course,” I said, fighting back tears. “Santa gives presents to everyone, undead and alive alike.”

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Lost Kitten

  “Fluffy! There you are! I’m going to love you and hug you and put your fur in bows!”

  Four year old Sally Lou chased the long haired white cat across the living room.

  “Honey,” said her mom, “leave the poor cat alone.”

  But like usual, Sally Lou caught up with the kitten. Well, at a year old, Fluffy was out of her kittenhood. The cat wished only that the human child would be out of her kittenhood too.

  The cat lay like a rag doll in Sally Lou’s grip. It was useless to struggle. Even if she hid well enough that the girl wouldn’t find her, it would only be for a limited time. And although Fluffy refused to admit it, she did like being brushed by the child. It was the bows and barrettes that were annoying. Sometimes it took forever for her to find them all and get them all off.

  And then, after Sally Lou was done torturing Fluffy, her mom would put out a special tin of cat food, her favorite. Sometimes she’d even let Sally give her tuna treats.

  As much as she wanted to go outside, Fluffy learned from her wild and free friends that she really had life pretty good. She had a warm house when it was raining, and her own plush cushion (which she rarely laid on, preferring the fleece blanket on Sally Lou’s bed instead), three meals a day, and plenty (or too much) of brushing.

  How could she know how good she had it though? She would often desire to go outside and live free, free to chase the birds and mice. One day, Sally Lou’s mom left the door open when she was bringing in the groceries, and Fluffy made a break for it. She ran for the neighbor’s yard and hid in the bushes.

  Sally Lou and her mom called and called for her, but when they eventually gave up, Fluffy was free to roam. As she stepped out of the brush, a chipmunk scurried by her. She chased it across the yard, but it disappeared into a hole. So she climbed over the fence into the next yard.

  There she chased several squirrels into trees. She followed the last one up and encountered her favorite animals: birds. She chased them through the treetops, but when she was tired, she realized she had no way down. Mewing for help, she tried to walk from branch to branch, but the twigs were too wobbly.

  An older lady walked out onto her back porch, and Fluffy began meowing louder. The lady raised a bb gun to her shoulder and yelled, “I’ll teach you to kill my birds!”

  Fluffy ran away as fast as possible and landed on the ground in another back yard. Stopping to catch her breath, she decided it was time to go back home. She had only planned to be out for a short time, but it was now getting dark. She realized she had no idea how to get home. She was lost.

  In the meantime, Sally Lou and her mom went around the neighborhood passing out and posting flyers. They called out, “Fluffy! Fluffy!” while shaking the treat can. Her mom called the animal shelter and veterinarian to see if anyone had brought her in, but she had no luck.

  In the morning, the cat was startled awake from her sleeping spot by the bark of a large dog. She had unknowingly found a sleeping spot in the dog’s yard. It stood just a foot away barking at her, and she hissed back. Since she was cornered, she swatted at the dog’s nose, scratching it and drawing blood.

  Instead of being scared like she expected, the dog reacted viciously. It grabbed her around her stomach and tossed her over the fence, breaking her back. She died slowly in the neighbor’s yard.

  The next day, she awoke to find her guts hanging out. But she was still able to move, and she hobbled to the house. She didn’t know what she would find there, but she was desperate.

  “Aw, you poor kitty,” the old man said as he picked the furry zombie up. “Come live with me, and I’ll clean you up.”

  The old man was nice, but not as good as her Sally Lou. She only got dry kibble, the cheap stuff, and sometimes he forgot to feed her. He often didn’t look where he was walking and would step on her paws. She normally just hid under the bed.

  Two years later, the old man died. When the paramedics took his body out of the house, Fluffy set out to find a new home. She wandered for days when a group of college kids found her.

  “Hey guys, check out this cat, I think it’s dead.”

  “No wait, it moved. I think it’s a zombie.”

  “Let’s take it in to the vet, it looks like it might be somebody’s cat.”

  The doctor scanned the cat and found an electronic ID chip that said the cat’s name was Fluffy and that she belonged to Sally Lou. They called Sally’s mom and brought the cat over.

  “Fluffy!” cried the seven year old little girl. She picked the cat up properly this time and nuzzled her nose against the fur. “You need cleaned and brushed,” she said. Carefully, and with her mom’s help, they cleaned up the kitty and brushed her matted fur out.

  Fluffy found her spot on Sally Lou’s bed and fleece blanket, and purred her little undead heart to sleep.

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  No Swimming

  It was a cold day for the middle of July. The beach that should have been filled with sunbathers was empty. Instead of bikinis, the few people on the beach were wearing jeans and jackets.

  The clouds had crowded the sky all day, and a thin mist was hanging in the air. Some vendors were still in their booths on the boardwalk, but many trailers had their overhead doors pulled down over the counters.

  Since the wind was blowing hard, the waves were big, and the water was rough. Even if it had been warm enough to swim, the life guards had posted no swimming notices everywhere. The sea was just too choppy.

  The docks were full of anchored boats. Every once in a while, some sailors would come out, check on their boats, test the wind and waters, and decide to go back home.

  One couple walked along the boardwalk with no jackets or umbrella or any other protection against the weather. The mist turned to rain drops, pelting against metal roofs with tinny clangs. But the couple happily walked along, hand in hand, like it was a pleasant summer’s day.

  They stopped at a lone hot dog stand which was struggling to keep its umbrella up in the wind. With the fully loaded foot long hot dogs they got, they also got a basket of fries each and the largest cup of soda. When they paid, they gave the stand owner a huge tip and thanked him for staying open.

  Together they sat on a bench looking out at the water, eating their soggy hot dogs. The few seagulls who were out in the terrible weather got rewarded with rain drenched french fries.

  After finishing their lunch, they went to the only open ice cream stand and shared a dipped cone. Somehow they got it eaten before the rain wet the cone too much to hold the ice cream.

  Not only did the cute couple stand out by acting like it was a beautiful day while getting drenched to the bone, but they looked different from anyone else. With an open wound oozing from her forehead, and him missing half of his right arm, it was quite obvious that both of them were not so recently deceased. But they were pleasant and courteous, and the shops they visited couldn’t have asked for better customers.

  The man at the other end of the pier was very different. He was wearing a raincoat and boots. His face hel
d a permanent scowl. The shopkeepers avoided him and hoped he wouldn’t come into their shops.

  He tromped through a mall, which was busy since the shoppers were protected from the weather. People stepped out of his way, and he stomped by. Through the mall to the deserted end of the pier, people knew to stay out of his way.

  Once he got to the pier, he walked all the way out to the end and climbed on top of the railing. He stood there, facing into the rain and wind.

  The zombie couple walking hand in hand finally made their way to the far end of the pier. They strolled to the end, and sat down on a bench to watch the waves some more.

  “Honey, what is that gentleman doing?” asked the wife.

  “I’m not sure, but he looks like he doesn’t want to be disturbed,” said the husband.

  Then she said, “Oh no, I think he’s going to jump!”

  “Wait, stop!” the husband called out, but it was too late. The man let himself fall over the edge.

  “With those waves, he’ll be crushed to death,” cried the wife.

  The husband ran as fast as his undead legs would take him, jumped on top of the railing, and swan dived into the dangerous water below.

  He opened his eyes under the water, knowing that they’d be filled with salt for days now, but he didn’t care. The water was cold and dark, but he thought he could make out a shape sinking to the bottom. He swam over and reached through the water and managed to get a good enough hold on the form.

  Because the zombie no longer had natural buoyancy to float to the surface, he had to kick up against the waves to get out of the water. He hoisted the man above the surface so he would hopefully get a breath while the husband swam towards the shore.

  He pulled the man up onto the beach and started doing CPR. The man coughed up water and began to breathe again. An ambulance drove up on the beach, and paramedics jumped out to take over.

  The zombie wife caught up with them on the beach and ran into her husband’s arms. A policeman came up to them to take a report, and together they relayed all the details.

  After the commotion was over, they drove to the hospital to check on the condition of the man they had saved. They found him sitting in good condition in a hospital bed, just there for a few hours of observation.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I had lost all hope and faith in everything and just wanted to end it all. For someone I didn’t know to save me like that, especially someone who’s... well, who could be worse off than I am. Thank you. I never thought a Zombie could be so kind. Thank you.”

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Quite A Pair

  I was on my way to work on a brisk fall morning. Since I was running late, I had missed the first bus. I could still make it to work on time if the bus was exactly on schedule, but only if I ran the two blocks from the last bus stop to my work.

  So I was already impatient as the clock ticked away and there was no sign of the bus. At a quarter after, I looked to the end of the road, hopeful to see the shape of the bus in the distance. It was nowhere to be found, but I did see a shuffling figure coming up the crossroad.

  It couldn’t walk very well, but I could tell this person was going as fast as they could. As he got closer, a raspy man’s voice called out and asked for the time. “Seven twenty one,” I yelled back to him. The bus was late.

  “Have I missed the bus?” he asked.

  “No, it’s running late.” “Unfortunately,” I said under my breath.

  “Oh good,” he said, “I may just get lucky today yet.”

  I turned my back to him as he shuffled up. In my impatience, he was painful to watch. Finally, as he reached the corner, the bus came down the road.

  Other people had gathered during this time, and I rushed into the bus in front of them. Maybe I hoped the bus driver would decide they were too slow and take me straight to work so I could get there on time.

  I sat behind the driver and glowered at the other patrons, taking their time to count out their coins. One lady couldn’t find her bus pass and nearly emptied her purse to locate it. When the zombie’s foot had stepped on the first step, I said to the bus driver as nonchalantly as I could, “What’s the chance do you think we can make up some time?”

  He rudely said, “I’m going as fast as I can buddy,” and pulled the handle to slam the doors shut and stepped on the gas.

  In his haste, he hadn’t realized the zombie wasn’t all the way in, and the zombie’s hand got caught in the door, severing it at the wrist. The hand dropped to the ground as the bus drove away.

  Quickly, the zombie used his teeth to pull the glove off of his remaining hand, and threw the glove out the window. The he paid the driver and sat in the seat across from me.

  “What did you do that for?” I asked.

  “Do what, lose my hand?” he said.

  “No, why did you throw your glove out the window?”

  He smiled patiently and said, “So when someone finds my gloved hand, they can take the other glove, and have a pair. Maybe it can help someone who isn’t able to afford a pair of gloves on their own.”

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Family Movie Night

  All of the kids were so excited to see the new animated movie, Little Red Riding Hood. In fact, parents were excited too. In the back of their minds, they always wondered when the major production studio would bring out a version of the childhood favorite.

  The first night was the busiest, and only the people who had bought their tickets in advance could get in. Each evening and weekend showing was sold out for two straight weeks.

  Finally, it slowed down, and the movie was on its last week in the theaters.

  It was a weekday matinee showing, the cheapest. The weather outside was rainy, and school had started for the fall. I was working the ticket counter, and I was bored out of my mind. I had cleaned everything that could be cleaned, and even got on my hands and knees and swept in the corners under the counter. Finally, I resorted to playing Solitaire on my cell phone.

  I was in the middle of another losing game when a family of four walked in the door.

  The dad was wearing a baseball cap with the city logo on it, and since sometimes the trash guys got off early if everything got picked up, I assumed he was from the sanitation department. He was wearing a crisp, clean t-shirt that looked like it had been ironed. The jeans he wore were bright blue and must have been brand new.

  Mom looked haggard and tired. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing sunglasses. The sleeveless shirt she wore didn’t quite match the long skirt, like she had put her own clothes on in a hurry as an afterthought.

  But the kids were the cleanest and best behaved kids I ever met. The little boy was probably about 5, old enough for morning kindergarten. His jeans were as blue as his dad’s, and he was wearing a small polo shirt.

  As cute as the little boy was, the little girl was absolutely adorable. She looked slightly younger than her brother and was the picture perfect little girl. With her little pink dress and patent leather shoes, she looked like she had been pulled out of a movie.

  The dad walked up to the counter and proudly said, “We’d like four tickets to Little Red Riding Hood please.” He laid a pile of crisp dollar bills on the counter.

  As they started to walk through the turnstile, a well dressed gentleman walked in. He wore a hat, a nice brown suit jacket, a white shirt, freshly pressed Dockers, and penny loafers. As hard as he tried to look nice, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was undead. His dress shirt now had spots where he was apparently oozing through. He walked with a limp, and I could see a bone poking at the slacks. His cracked lip dripped onto the lapel of his coat.

  I pulled myself away from the zombie, stopped the family from entering, and said, “I’m sorry sir, there’s only fourteen dollars here and your total comes to twenty-two dollars.”

  The proud smile on the dad’s face fell. “What do you mean? Kids are three bucks and adults
are four dollars, right?”

  “I’m sorry sir,” I said, “that changed a while ago. Children’s tickets are five dollars, and adults are six dollars.”

  He put out his hand, and I sadly put his money back in it.

  As they turned to leave, the zombie gentleman said, “Wait.” He turned to me and said, “Five tickets to Little Red Riding Hood please.”

  He paid, handed the tickets to the family, and motioned for them to go through the turnstiles.

  “Thank you,” the father said.

  The mother, wiping tears from her eyes, added, “Thank you very much.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, and followed them through the entrance.

  I watched the family head for the first theater on the right, where the movie was showing. The zombie stopped them and said, “Don’t you need sodas and candies and popcorn? My treat.” They followed him over to the concession stand, where each kid got a box of candy and a child-sized drink, and the parents each got a tub of popcorn and a soda of their own.

  I smiled for the next hour and a half, thinking of the kind gentleman’s generosity. After the movie, all five of them emerged together, and the zombie was carrying the little girl. The little boy was running ahead, giggling.

  As they walked toward the doors, I asked, “Did you enjoy the movie?”

  The mom replied, “Yes, very much, thank you,” while the kids nodded their heads and said, “uh huh!”

  I called after the zombie as he opened the door, “Please come again!”

  (back to TOC)

  ****