The Creeping Dead: A Zombie Novel

by Edward P. Cardillo

  “No one’s saying that at all, Mr. Russo. It’s not uncommon for our residents to get a bit dramatic when family visits.”

  “Can I see her now?”

  “Sure. She should be finished with lunch by now.”

  Renee stood up, squeezed around her desk, and saw Mario and Marie out of her office. She took them to Mama Sophia’s room, where she sat watching the television. The news was on—something about two storm systems approaching Ocean County.

  “Sophia, I brought them back to you as promised,” said Renee.

  Mama Sophia huffed and made a big show of not regarding Renee.

  Renee’s smile never waned. “Well, I’ll leave you to your visit.”

  “Thank you, Renee,” said Marie.

  Mario simply barged into the room. He pulled over a chair and sat in it.

  Marie stood behind him feeling awkward. “I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ll be in the car waiting. Take your time.”

  “Thanks, hon,” said Mario, never looking back.

  “Ma, what happened? Are you all right?”

  Mama Sophia launched into what happened between her and ‘the colored lady,’ laying on the drama thick as Sunday gravy, and Mario ate it all up.

  “That’s terrible, Ma. But you’re safe now. That woman is locked in the dementia ward.”

  Mama Sophia hesitated for a moment to wipe her tears. Suddenly, her face became hard, her expression grave. “I don’t want you to come see me.”

  “Don’t worry, Ma. It wasn’t any trouble.”

  Mama Sophia shook her head, waving her hands in front of her as if she were physically erasing his words. “No. I don’t want you to come here no more.”

  Mario didn’t know what to make of this. “Of course I’ll come, Ma. I’ll bring you some food, and we’ll sit and talk like we always do.”

  “No. No more. I don’t wanna see you no more.”

  “I-I-I don’t understand. I’m your son. I love you, Ma. Of course I’m going to come see you.”

  Mama Sophia shook her head insistently. “You don’t love your Mama. I want to be left alone so I can die in this prison, my only crime being good to my son and raising him right.”

  “Ma, don’t talk like that. You know I love you.”

  “I raised you from little boy to big man, then you turn your back on me and put me in this jail, like a criminal.”

  Mario took his mother’s hands in his. “You’re not a criminal, Ma. They take care of you here.”

  She pulled her hands out of his. “I took care of you. I fed you, changed your diaper, wiped your ass, and you don’t take care of me when I need you. You’re not my son no more.”

  “Ma, it hurts me when you say that.”

  “It hurts me to be here. Your wife wants me here. She doesn’t love me like you do. She doesn’t love me at all.”

  “Marie loves you very much,” he lied. “She has nothing to do with you being here.” Another lie.

  “You go home, and don’t come back. I want to die in peace.”

  “Ma, don’t let anyone hear you say that. They’ll put you in the crazy house.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not loved by anybody. I have no son.”

  “Ma, please.”

  “Take me out. I can come live with you. See Salvatore and Alessandra. I can make gravy.”

  “Ma, you’re in no condition to come home and cook. You need to be taken care of. It’s your turn to be taken care of.”

  “Then I don’t want to see you anymore. I tell the colored social worker. No more.”

  Mario sat there, his heart breaking into a million throbbing pieces. The truth was he never wanted her to be in this place where people waited to die. It was Marie’s idea. They had to run the store. There was no way anyone could stay home to look after Mama Sophia.

  However, he was home now. Doctor’s orders. Marie was running the store, restocking inventory for next season. It was August and things would be slowing down. In October Marie would be helping out at her father’s restaurant in Haddonfield, but Mario would still be home. Her father would understand.

  He had to recuperate. He’d go back once he got some help with Mama Sophia. He could find one of those home health aides.

  Mario came bounding over to the car.

  Marie got out to help him. “Jesus, Mario, what took you so long?”

  “I’m signing Ma out.”

  It took a moment for Marie to register what he had just said. Her eyes widened in horror. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I told the social worker. She’ll come home with us in a few days. I insisted. She tried to talk me out of it, but in light of recent events I threatened to call the State on them.”

  “Mario! What have you done? I should’ve never left you alone.”

  “The treatment team will sign off on it tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

  “It’s not fine, Mario. Who’s going to look after her? I’m going to be at the store, and in October I’ll be picking up hours at the restaurant.”

  “I’ll be home. I can’t work at the restaurant yet anyway.”

  “But you’re in no condition to care for your mother.”

  “If I’m that bad off, then why are you leaving me home alone while you work at the restaurant? I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll be fine looking after yourself, but now you’re talking about bringing an elderly mother home. She requires lots of care.”

  “No she doesn’t. She’ll be fine. It’ll be good for the kids to see her. Who knows how much longer she’ll be around? This might be their last chance to be around their Nana. It’ll give you two a chance to get to know each other better, maybe even become friends.”

  Marie stood there in the middle of the parking lot dumbfounded. This was devolving into a real nightmare. She didn’t know what Mama Sophia said to Mario, but she knew one thing for certain: she didn’t want that nasty old bitch moving in with them.

  “We’re picking her up on Friday,” said Mario. “Marie, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

  Marie believed that Mario believed that it would be fine, but she knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be. It wasn’t that Mama Sophia needed all that much care. That much Marie acknowledged. The old witch was in a nursing home because no one else wanted her. No one was able to stand her.

  Marie felt like she’d been conned, conned by that old bitch, and now she was going to be letting something evil into her home. An evil she had thought she had dealt with and no longer had to worry about. An evil she had purged from her marriage and her life, except for the occasional visit to the nursing home. She was able to stomach that. A small price to pay for peace of mind.

  But now the evil had somehow charmed its way back into her life with guilt, drama, and feigned sorrow. Marie felt violated and trapped, with no one to turn to. This long-buried evil had resurrected itself. Marie’s blood boiled with hatred and resentment.

  Mama’s Little Fucking Meatball.

  On the sixth floor Mama Sophia shuffled into the tiny bathroom and shut the door. Her stomach twisted inside her gut, stabbing her with pain. She pulled up the toilet seat and vomited the egg salad into the toilet, nearly falling over from the exertion.

  She fought to steady herself as the small, tiled room spun around her. She closed her eyes until the sensation abated. When she opened them, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror on the wall. She had dark circles around her eyes, and her image grinned wickedly back at her.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Mrs. Russo, are you okay?”

  One of the nurses.

  “O-kay,” she sang through the door, trying to belie her predicament. She reached down and flushed just as the door opened. It was one of the Indian nurses. Mama Sophia couldn’t recall her name.

  “I’m okay, Ms. John.” They were all called Ms. John. Their actual names were gibberish the way Mama Sophia saw it.

  “Just checking, Mrs. Russo.”

  Mama Sophia smiled ap
preciatively and envisioned ripping the nurse’s throat open with her teeth.

  Chapter 12

  Friday

  When Mario went to the sixth floor with Marie to bring Mama Sophia home, he found an attractive young woman sitting with her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” said Mario.

  The woman stood and faced him, smiling, only this smile was different from the forced smile of Renee the social worker. “You must be Mario.” She extended her hand. “I’m Dr. Bigelow, your mother’s psychologist.”

  Mario was taken off guard, but he quickly shook her hand and smiled. “Yes, Dr. Bigelow. This is my wife, Marie.”

  Marie nodded without smiling, looking absolutely defeated.

  “So, I hear you’re taking Sophia home today.”

  “Yes, I am. How long have you been meeting with my mother?”

  “I only met with her a couple of times, since the incident.”

  “And she talks to you?”

  “Sure. She’s told me all about you, your wife, and your two children…Salvatore and Alessandra.”

  Marie rolled her eyes from behind Mario. She could only imagine what that old witch must’ve told this shrink in the confidentiality of their sessions. She just wanted to collect the old bag and go.

  “Yes, they’re looking forward to spending some time with Nana,” Mario said. “I must say, I’m impressed. Ma doesn’t open up much to anyone, and that’s me included. You must be very good at what you do.”

  “Well, she’s a sweet lady,” replied Tara. “She made it easy.”

  Both Mario and Marie gawked at Tara. Even Mario, who loved his Ma more than life itself, would never refer to her as ‘sweet.’

  Tara turned to Mama Sophia and put a hand gently on her shoulder. “I wish you luck, Sophia. You have a good family. They’re going to take good care of you.”

  Mama Sophia looked from her son to Marie, and holding her gaze on Marie, put her hand on top of Tara’s and squeezed it, smiling warmly. Marie was waiting for her face to crack.

  Mama Sophia wanted to tell this nice doctor what she had growing inside of her, making her sicker by the hour, but there was no time and she was certain this psychologist had no understanding or appreciation for the evil eye. Besides, if she did, she might not let Mama Sophia leave. No, Mama Sophia would handle it through prayer once she was home with her son. Nothing several novenas wouldn’t cure.

  “You’re a good doctor. Bless you.”

  Mario shook his head in disbelief. “Thank you for helping my Ma, Dr. Bigelow. Well, all right, Ma. It’s time to go.”

  Mama Sophia released Tara’s hand, pulled her walker close, and stood. She took one last look around at her room and made a sweeping gesture with her hand under her chin, bidding the room good riddance.

  She squeezed Tara’s hand one last time, as if to intimate present company excluded, and followed her son and his wife out of the room. Tara stood aside as she watched Mama Sophia leave with Mario and Marie.

  The room was now empty for the time being.

  ***

  Mama Sophia sat in her son’s house, on the couch in the living room. Mario was making a fuss over her as Marie stood, leaning in the doorway, surrendered to this new reality.

  Mario had already put her coat away in the closet and had placed an afghan over her lap.

  “Mario, it’s ninety degrees out,” nagged Marie.

  “Not in this house with the air conditioning on full blast.” He turned on the television and handed his mother the remote.

  “There you go, Ma. Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?”

  “Thirsty.”

  “Hon, would you get Ma something to drink?”

  The look on Marie’s face indicated that she didn’t appreciate being ordered around, particularly to serve Mama Sophia, which made the experience all the more sweet to Mama Sophia.

  However, Marie did as she was told and went into the kitchen. With this unholy parasite in her house, she now had to choose her battles carefully.

  She returned with a glass of ice water and handed it to Mama Sophia, who received it stoically.

  Marie fantasized about poisoning the water. She pictured in her mind’s eye Mama Sophia sipping from the glass. After a moment, she dropped the glass on the rug and clutched her throat. Marie, in her private reverie, played stupid, rushing to clean up the spill, pretending nothing was wrong when she knew damned well what was wrong.

  “Marie…”

  And then Mama Sophia’s eyes bulged out of her head…

  “Marie. Hon? Are you all right?”

  Mario’s voice brought her back to reality, and the concerned expression on his face made her aware that she was smiling, quite impishly she was sure.

  “I’m just glad Mama Sophia’s all right. The kids are going to be excited when they come home.”

  Mama Sophia met Marie’s wicked grin with her own. She pictured sinking her teeth into Marie’s throat, clawing at her skin, shredding it under her nails, blood oozing up like Puttanesca sauce. Puttana! Her stomach twisted with a hunger that would not be satisfied with anything other than this woman’s flesh.

  Mario saw his mother unconsciously pat her stomach. “Hon, why don’t you make some gravy with meat tonight? I’m sure Ma hasn’t had a decent meal in quite a while.”

  “Sure thing. The kids’ll be home from school soon. I’m going to go for a walk and leave you two alone to catch up a bit. When I get back, I’ll start making dinner.”

  “Sounds good, hon.”

  “Yes,” said Mama Sophia. “it’ll help you lose weight. That’s good.”

  Marie bit her tongue to the brink of drawing blood. She smiled and grabbed her MP3 player and earbuds by the front door. She needed to get the fuck out of there—and fast—to clear her head or she was going to say something she would surely regret.

  She stepped outside and closed the front door behind her. She strode up the path, opened the gate, hit play on her MP3, and made her way to the boardwalk.

  She angry walked, pumping her legs until her muscles felt like they’d pull right off her bones, breathing heavily. The old crone was in her house ten minutes, and she was already pushing her buttons.

  She knew she had to regain her composure. She was about to pass the Jolly Roger when she saw Billy standing in front smoking a cigarette. He looked up and saw her, his face lighting up.

  She intended to jog on past, ignoring any greeting he sent her way, but there was a part of her that made her jog over to him. It was a resentful part of her, a part that was now growing out of its compartment.

  She stopped in front of him. “Hey, Billy.”

  “Howdy, Marie. How’ve you been?”

  Fuck Mario. “Not so good.” Bait the hook.

  “No? That’s a shame. Anything I can help with?”

  I can’t believe he invited that old witch into our house. Into our marriage. Marie started to cry hot tears.

  Billy reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, darlin’? Don’t cry.”

  Hook.

  “It’s Mario. He-he brought his mother home…to live with us.”

  “Oh, really? Well, so what?”

  “She hates me. She always has. She’s done nothing but caused trouble in our marriage.”

  Line.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s just looking out for his mom. Guys like Mario are real mama’s boys.” A backhanded compliment if she ever heard one.

  “He knew how I felt about her and what she did to us. We-we…we almost got divorced over it.” Marie sniffled and whimpered a little. “And now she’s back, and I just don’t think I can take it anymore.”

  Billy slid next to her and put his arm around her. “It’s all right. Listen, why don’t you come in and have a drink with me. My treat. Talk to ol’ Billy about it.”

  Sinker.

  She feigned hesitation. “Okay. I guess one drink won’t hurt.”

  Billy took her by the hand and led her into the
Jolly Roger. She allowed herself to be led, not exactly sure why she was allowing it.

  Billy and Marie sat down at the bar and ordered a couple of pints, and the mental gymnastics began, like a junkie making desperate justifications as she was about to relapse after a long period of sobriety. What was the harm in one drink? She wouldn’t let it go any further than that.

  Marie was pissed with Mario. A little harmless flirting and a free drink seemed to be a punishment to fit the crime at the moment.

  Marie began to explain to Billy that there was many a night when Marie was up crying and arguing with Mario, hashing out doubts and resentment planted by that vile, hateful woman.

  “I threatened to leave and take Sal with me to my parents unless he stood up to Mama Sophia and, as our couples’ therapist had put it, enforce appropriate boundaries.”

  “Jesus, I had no idea you guys were in marriage counseling. See, this is why I’ll never get married.”

  Marie ignored the remark. This was about her. “It was time to man up, I told him. I told him to tell his mother that if she wasn’t going to respect his wife, their family, and their home, she was no longer welcome. I shouldn’t have had to tell him this.” She wiped her eyes on her arm. “Not if he really loved me.”

  “Well, it’s his mom,” said Billy, trying not to look too eager to take her side. “But I get it. He had his own family and had to let go. Move on. Grow up.” He even winced at that last part’s irony. Even his hypocrisy had limits.

  “Well, Mario said he loved me. I told him to prove it, and he did. He told Mama Sophia, exactly like he said he would. This only pissed her off, but in the end, I had something she didn’t, our son, Sal.”

  “That’s right. She wasn’t just breaking you two up. Now she was breaking up a family.”

  Marie nodded and took a long draw off her cool pint. “She knew that if she pushed any further that it would alienate Mario, so she backed off. Reluctantly. She didn’t want to lose Mario, and she didn’t want to lose contact with her grandson in the process.”

  “Well played, darlin’.”