by Katz, Gayle
He didn’t even notice that the box was in the bag as he tossed in ten volumes of the 10th grade biology textbooks that his students needed.
zzz
Charlie’s grandmother gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Have a good first day at school, dear,” she said.
“Yeah, right, Gran. It will be a good day for them if I don’t punch any of them in the face.”
Gran chuckled, knowing that was unlikely. Charlie was more likely to do battle with words than her fists.
“Have a safe walk to school. Remember what I told you about not talking to strangers.”
“Yes, thanks, Gran. I can handle it. I can’t wait until I get my driver’s license!”
“I’ll sign you up for classes soon,” promised Gran.
Charlie walked the two blocks to school. They’d been living in Texas for almost her entire life now. She’d be glad to finish 10th grade because that meant only two years left until she graduated. Where did the time go? One moment she was a kid learning how to read, and the next she was almost an adult.
Charlie strode confidently into the schoolyard. Some of the girls looked up.
“Hi, Charlie!” some called out to her. She waved back.
She glared at the popular girls who were hanging out by the water fountain. They stopped their gossiping and waved at her. They looked a bit uneasy.
“Nice jeans,” said one of them, while another hushed her quickly.
“They are though,” she said to her friend in protest.
“Thanks,” said Charlie walking past.
Once she was inside the school, she let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t have to lecture anyone today. Bullies came in all shapes and sizes and if they ever stepped out of line with her, then she’d be ready to get into it.
“Why hello, it’s Charlie,” said Jo. “Have you enrolled in librarian school yet?”
“Hi, Jo,” said Charlie. “Not yet. That’s not for another three years. I see that you’ve already enrolled in fashion school though.” She frowned at her halter top and short skirt.
“See you inside!” called out Jo, as Charlie detoured to the girls’ bathroom.
“How can you get away with that?” asked a teenage boy, putting away his school supplies.
Jo laughed. “That’s because I’m her friend, doormat.”
“Hey, that’s not cool. My name is Matt, not doormat.”
“OK, sorry,” she replied. “You must be new?”
“Yeah, I’m here from Arizona.”
“Nice,” she said. “I’ve been to the Grand Canyon.”
He looked more closely at her. “Is that right? I lived in the Grand Canyon.”
She laughed. “Right.”
“Hey, guys,” said Charlie, “the bell just rang. We need to get to our next class. Biology, I think.”
zzz
Stewart carefully took out the biology textbooks. “You folks are going to love these antique textbooks I have for you.”
The entire class groaned.
“You’re in luck that there are even enough to go around. Perhaps I can put in a request for brand new textbooks for next year.” He placed the last book on a stack on the desk. “OK, please come up and grab one. First come, first served.”
There was a stampede of students trying to get a newer textbook rather than one of the musty older ones.
Stewart frowned, as there was still something at the bottom of the plastic bag he held. How odd. It appeared to be the daggers’ box he had found down in the basement earlier.
He picked up the bag and tossed it under his desk. He’d put it back into storage later.
By now, all the students had their textbooks.
“Excuse me, Mr. Stewart, is it?” called out Charlie. “Are these old textbooks still valid?”
“Yes,” he replied. “This first semester is on anatomy. Unless your brain, heart, or lungs have switched positions in the past century, these old textbooks will do just fine.”
“Thank you, teach,” she replied.
Normally, Stewart didn’t look too closely at the students. After all, he didn’t want to be called out for harassing, but he took a second look at Charlie. There was something unusual about her, but he couldn’t quite guess what. He shook the thought from his brain and decided to focus on the course material.
He began the first biology class of the semester.
zzz
“Hey! You want to grab something to eat after class?” asked Matt. “Jo and I are going.”
“Oh. Sorry, guys,” said Charlie. “I have to go to work. Ugh.”
Matt stared at her with interest. “Really? Where do you work? At the library?” He smirked.
She didn’t even react, and he was relieved. A comment like that from one of the other classmates would likely have resulted in a long lecture on harassment and manners. He’d just witnessed her lecture a teenage girl who had been making fun of another girl for her acne. Charlie had told her to think first before worrying about someone’s facial problems.
“No, but that would be interesting. I work at the locksmith’s store down the street.”
Matt looked at her curiously. “A locksmith? Hey, cool. You get to make keys?”
Charlie nodded. “It’s pretty basic. But what’s really interesting is the lock-picking part. It’s a handy skill to have.”
Matt laughed. “That would suit you.”
“Matt!” called out Jo. “Let’s get going!”
“OK, bye,” the teens called out to each other.
Charlie walked to the locksmith’s shop. It was on the main street, where the coffee shops, restaurants, and a few boutiques were located.
“Hey, Charlie. I’m so glad you’re here. There was a break-in at La Carter’s down the street. Glass everywhere.”
“Oh no,” she said. “I hope no one was injured?”
“No, but they need an alarm system installed. Are you up for it?”
“Hell, ya!”
“I know you know all about it, so I have the products ready to go.” Mr. Wager pointed to the carton on the counter and the small toolbox beside it. “I’d do it myself, but I have to be here. Tara called in sick.”
“No problem. Who is the contact there?”
Mr. Wager tossed a set of keys in the air. Charlie expertly grabbed them. “Nice. No one is there right now, so have at it. The windows should have been replaced by now.”
“Cool,” she said, dropping her backpack under the counter. “I’ll be back in twenty.”
He laughed. “Take your time and do it right.”
Charlie grabbed the supplies from the counter and headed out the door.
zzz
The first day of school had gone well. Stewart had taught six classes, with a couple breaks in between. He reached under his desk to grab his briefcase. It seemed a bit heavier than normal, or perhaps he was just extra tired.
Despite teaching biology to his students, he was hoping to teach each and every one of them to be open-minded and respectful of everybody. He didn’t want them to suffer like he had when growing up. But if the students could graduate high school and take compassion for all living beings into their adult years, then he’d be happy and proud, even if they forgot every single thing he had taught them about anatomy.
“Oh. Hi,” he said to the janitor as he left the classroom.
“Hi. Have a great evening,” the janitor said to him. He entered the classroom and had a quick look around. Often there was junk left by the students at the end of the day. Soda cans, food wrappers, random papers, and more. He saw a crumpled up bag under Stewart’s desk. He peered inside, but there was nothing there. He shrugged and tossed it into the garbage can.
zzz
Charlie happily installed the keypad to the alarm system in the La Carter boutique. She checked the manual and typed in the codes. It beeped. She made note of the alarm code so she could pass it along to the proprietor, then cleaned up the mess on the floor.
She stood back and took a lo
ok at her work. She’d installed the siren to the left of the door, and the motion sensor pads inside the door. If the door opened, and no one entered the alarm code, the alarm would blare in ten seconds.
“Cool,” she said, putting some debris into the trash can under the counter. Now it was time for testing.
She armed the alarm system, and then went out the door. She waited one minute. Then she opened the door and went back inside.
The alarm immediately started beeping, indicating the countdown. She held off on typing the code into the keypad. Then the siren let out a long and extremely annoying sound. She covered her ears, before remembering that she had the code and could stop it. She quickly typed in the numbers.
“Whew. That works,” she said.
She was about to grab her toolbox when she heard sounds coming from the back of the shop. “That’s odd. There shouldn’t be anyone here.”
“Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone there? This is the technician. I can’t arm the alarm until you’re gone.” She headed in the direction of the sounds coming from the back.
There was a storage room ahead. She opened the door and flicked on the light.
“Hello?” she called out. This room was a mess. There were boxes and cartons of every size lying around. She took a step into the room. Just as she did, one of the taller boxes toppled off the stack and landed on the ground.
She twitched. Fortunately, there had been nothing in that box, but there was definitely someone back there.
They came out from behind the clutter of boxes at the back.
“Hello?” Charlie called out again. “Do you work here?”
But as she looked at the man, she realized that there was no way he worked here. His clothing was in tatters and rags. The skin was peeling off his face and arms in chunks, exposing flesh, dark red muscles, and bones beneath.
Charlie realized that this was likely the person who had broken into the store last night, and they’d been waiting all this time. She let out a loud piercing scream as he rushed at her.
Chapter 7
________________________________________
Stewart placed his briefcase on his desk at home. He clicked both locks, and then flipped the lid up.
“Hey!” he yelled. The worn wooden box he’d discovered down in the school basement had somehow found its way into his briefcase.
He carefully picked it up and placed it on the desk. “That’s bizarre,” he said. He opened up the lid of the box and peered inside. “How odd,” he commented. He pulled out one of the daggers. Somehow, in the time between him finding the box in the basement, it magically appearing in the plastic bag in his classroom, and being brought home in his briefcase, it now sparkled. All traces of chips and tarnish were gone.
He didn’t know why, but he carefully put the dagger into one of the side pouches of his briefcase. It was like it was trying to tell him something, but he didn’t know what.
He realized he was starving and had to get the chicken in the oven if he was to eat at a decent hour. He went and got it ready. At one point, he looked up from the cutting board to look over at his desk in the living room. He frowned. It appeared that the box was gone.
He dropped the knife, and then walked back into the living room. But the wooden box containing the remaining two daggers had disappeared. He had a peek inside his briefcase, but that dagger was still there.
Maybe he was going crazy? Maybe he was just experiencing a blood sugar plunge and he’d be back to normal after he ate? He shrugged and headed back to the kitchen to get his meal in the oven.
zzz
Charlie looked frantically around her, frightened of this man, this creature, who appeared to be a zombie. But zombies weren’t real. Whatever it was, surely he wouldn’t be interested in her at all. But his teeth looked sharp as he was chomping them up and down.
Behind her was a fire extinguisher. That should work.
She didn’t know why she didn’t just turn and run. But she quickly lifted the extinguisher up from its bracket, raised it high in the air, and plunged it hard down onto the zombie’s head. It dropped to the ground.
She could have stopped at that point and run, but she didn’t. She raised the canister and brought it down hard on its head, again and again. She didn’t know what came over her, or how she had the strength to do what she had done.
Finally, the creature was dead. And there was blood and brains everywhere. She stopped herself from doing it again.
“Damn it,” she said, in shock. “Now I have to clean this mess up.” Charlie ran to the bathroom at the back of the store and washed herself up as best she could. She also rinsed off the fire extinguisher, and then grabbed some cloths, rags, cleanser, and a large garbage bag.
She raced back to the storage room. She looked at her watch. She had about twenty minutes to get it all cleaned up before her boss started wondering why it was taking her so long to install an alarm system.
zzz
Stewart got the classroom ready for biology class. He pulled the skeleton to the front of the room. He surreptitiously glanced at his desk where the dagger was, but the wooden box didn’t suddenly appear again. He guessed that if he went back down to the basement that he would find it down there again.
“Oh. Hi, Mr. George,” said Charlie, entering the room. “I guess I’m early.”
“That’s fine, Charlie. Have a seat. I’m just setting up.”
“OK.” She chose a seat near the back of the room. She watched with interest as he tried to fix a bone that had fallen loose from the skeleton.
“Is that a real skeleton?” she asked, walking up to the front of the classroom.
“No,” he said. “It’s a good likeness though.”
“Cool,” she said, examining it. “Umm, if I were to say, kill someone through the skull, what would be the best way to do it?”
He frowned and looked at her. “What an odd question.” He turned and looked at the skull. “Well, the fastest method would be to stab it through the eye socket. The brain is just through there, and the bone surrounding the eye socket is quite fragile, so even if you weren’t accurate, the blade should penetrate deep enough, even for someone of your stature to kill in one go.”
“Wow,” she replied.
“Why? You having trouble with a bully here?”
She laughed. “Nope. I was watching some zombie flicks on TV and just wondered.”
“Well, a dagger right through the skull is not only effective, but it’s also quiet. If you used a gun, it would make a loud noise, which would likely attract many more zombies to you. Unless you want to attract them to you, so you can kill them.” He laughed.
“Great!” Then her phone beeped. She pulled it out. “That’s odd. There have been a lot of break-ins in this region recently. I have to go and install more burglar alarms this week.”
“You have a job?” he asked.
“Yes. My grandmother is well-off, but she says that she expects me to contribute. That and to help her out when I attend the librarian program at college.”
Stewart smiled. “Well, more people need to read. I think you’ll be good at it. I saw how you handled that bully yesterday.”
“Yeah,” she replied. “The parents really should know better! It’s all their fault.”
The bell rang so she headed back to her seat.
Stewart sat down in his chair, getting ready for his lecture. But he was thinking more about Charlie and that dagger. Was it possible it was meant for her? He shook his head. How could a dagger be meant for someone? Perhaps he too was watching too many zombie flicks.
zzz
“You wanted to see me?” she asked Stewart on the way out of the classroom.
“Yes, I think I have something for you,” he said. He pulled out his briefcase and placed it on the desk. “I found this in the basement. I thought maybe you could do some research on it for me, then report back.”
He pulled the dagger out of his case and placed it on the desk in front
of her.
“Wow! That’s fancy,” she said. “But what does this have to do with biology?”
“Err, well, I think that it has historical value. Have you heard of voodoo? Zombies have their roots in the past.”
“I’m aware of that old myth,” she said. “So, someone made daggers to kill zombies in the past? Kind of like being afraid of vampires?”
He nodded his head. “Yes. I have taught history in the past, but biology requires more knowledge for a teacher, so that’s why I teach only biology now. But since you’re into zombies, I thought maybe you’d like to borrow this overnight. Oh, but don’t tell anyone. I could get in trouble for endangering a student, or some silly nonsense like that.” He laughed.
“OK, cool,” she said, picking it up and tucking it into her backpack.
“I mean, maybe you are a zombie slayer, or something,” he said. Oh, why did he say that out loud? Zombies weren’t real!
Now she laughed. “Are you serious? You think zombies are real?”
He shrugged. “You never know. Just think about all those weird things we hear about in the news. Zombies aren’t any weirder.”
“No, you’re weird,” she said, uncomfortably. “There is no way zombies are real. But thanks for the loan. Maybe it will give me an idea for my creative writing class.” She stomped out of the room.
“Oh, crap,” he muttered to himself. That hadn’t gone well. He hoped that she didn’t tell all her friends that the biology teacher was nutso.
zzz
Charlie laughed as she walked home. Zombies were real, right. Perhaps Mr. George should be teaching creative writing and not biology class. As if! She laughed again, trying to forget about the guy who had tried to attack her in the boutique the other night. But that had just been a sick robber, not a zombie. He’d probably been injured by one of his victims. Maybe he was a murderer and he deserved to die. Whatever he had been, he had not been a zombie.