Oh No, Our Best Friend is a Zombie!

by Zarimba, Lance

  Cody stood next to me in the hallway.

  “How did you get out of class?” I asked.

  “I had to go to the restroom,” he said. He looked into the office. “Cool. She’s feeding him blood,” he said. “I bet that’s the only way that they can keep him from eating one of us.” Cody snapped his little teeth shut. He laughed and entered the boy’s restroom.

  Inside the nurse’s office, the nurse told Nick, “This will make you feel better soon and give you more energy. I’m sure you haven’t eaten much, but soon you’ll be eating more. I’m sure your friends would love to help.”

  I jumped back. What did she mean by that? She wanted Nick to eat us? Maybe Dad was wrong about the living dead. Maybe they did eat the living. But would the school nurse allow that?

  Nick’s face was pale. His eyes were dead. As he stood, his body movements were stiff. He still hadn’t said a word, and our teacher and Nurse Evans didn’t seem to mind.

  What was going on? Were they all in on it? Did they want to make us all Zombies? Slaves to homework?

  “Matthew? Matthew?” Nurse Evans said.

  I jumped.

  “Nick’s ready to go back. Thanks for taking such good care of your friend,” she said.

  “No problem,” I said. Following Nick back to class, I asked him, “Nick, are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

  Cody ran up the hall behind us. “You turned him into a Zombie, of course he’s mad at you. I hope you’re next.” He ran past us and into our classroom.

  Nick stopped and looked at me. His gaze bore into my soul.

  I waited for him to say something.

  Was he angry? Was he going to yell at me? I wished he would just yell, or scream, or anything. Just say something to let me know what was wrong.

  I touched his arm, and he finally started walking. His pale skin was cold to the touch, and I pulled my hand away.

  Is that what a Zombie feels like?

  Chapter Six

  Nick didn’t eat lunch with us. He went back to the nurse’s office for some reason and didn’t return.

  Our first afternoon class was computer science. I sat across from Jake as he frantically clicked on the keyboard of his computer. Mrs. Hubers gave us assignments to look up on the Internet.

  “Matthew, come here,” Jake called, after a few minutes. He peeked over his computer at me. His smile told me he had found something interesting.

  I walked over to join him and saw what he had found. “How To Break A Zombie’s Curse” blinked on his screen.

  I pulled up a chair and sat down. “Do you think Nick is a Zombie?” I asked, looking around secretively.

  Jake nodded his head slowly.

  “Me too. So, what does it say? How can we help him?” I leaned forward to read the screen better.

  Jake clicked the mouse on, “Breaking The Zombie’s Curse.” A new screen came up. It read: “A Zombie is made a slave by the use of black magic. A Zombie master steals the victim’s soul and seals it in a small clay jar. A personal item of the victim is attached to the jar to keep the soul trapped inside. It is believed the curse can be broken once the clay jar and the personal item are returned to the Zombie victim. The soul returns to the Zombie, and the curse is broken.”

  I looked at Jake, and he smiled. We had just found a way to help Nick, but I wasn’t sure how we were going to pull it off.

  Ryan’s music greeted me when I came home. Instead of looking for my usual snack in the kitchen, I turned on the computer and logged in. I googled the name of the hypnotist that turned Nick into a Zombie, The Amazing Zoltan. Would Zoltan be listed in the residential section? Was that even his real name?

  Several options appeared, and I clicked on one. A website with a picture of The Amazing Zoltan showed he worked at The Magic Shoppe and did hypnosis. There was a phone number and an address, and I wrote them down. Then I realized The Magic Shoppe was in Jake’s neighborhood, a few blocks from his house.

  Chief entered the kitchen and looked at me. He wagged his tail and jumped up to welcome me home.

  “You didn’t hear me come home over Ryan’s music, did you?” I asked. “Well, I’m happy to see you too.”

  Chief barked once.

  “I can’t play today, but I’ll let you out quick. I have an errand to run.”

  Chief turned his head to the side.

  “I have to see if I can help Nick.”

  After sending Chief outside, I picked up the phone and dialed Jake’s number.

  He answered in three rings.

  “Hey Matthew, what are you doing tonight? Did you want to go to a movie or something? Did Nick want to do anything?” He stopped talking, unsure of what to say next.

  “Jake, I’m going to go see The Amazing Zoltan.”

  Jake didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Why are you going to see him? Do you really think Zoltan turned Nick into a zombie?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said.

  “Mrs. Hubers wouldn’t allow a Zombie in her class, would she? If we were sick, we would be sent home from school so we didn’t make other kids sick. Is that the same thing for Zombies?” Jake asked.

  I hadn’t thought of that. Was being a Zombie something you could catch, like the flu?

  “Do you think Zoltan turned Nick into one?” Jake asked.

  “He sure has been acting funny since we saw Zoltan, so I think what you found on the computer today may help us get Nick back,”

  “You want us to go to The Amazing Zoltan’s place?” Jake asked. “You think he has Nick’s soul in a little clay jar, don’t you?”

  “Zoltan’s place is close to your house, it’s just a few blocks away,” I said, hoping he would agree to go with me.

  “What if Zoltan figures out why we came to his store? Will he turn us into Zombies too?”

  I hadn’t thought of that, either. Now I was getting nervous.

  “Matthew? Are you still there?” Jake asked.

  “I think we should meet at his store and see what we can find out. Are you game?”

  Now it was Jake’s turn to be quiet.

  “Where is his place?” Jake asked, in a shaky voice.

  “It’s two blocks from Elm Street. He works at The Magic Shoppe.”

  “The Magic Shoppe? I’ve been there before. I love that place. I didn’t know that The Amazing Zoltan owned it,” Jake said.

  “It didn’t say he owned it, he just works there,” I said.

  “Okay, I’m in. We need to go and check this out.” Jake sounded excited about this trip. “I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.” Jake hung up.

  I swallowed hard. My plan seemed to be set in motion, but at least Jake was going with me.

  I rode my bike to The Magic Shoppe. Jake stood outside on the sidewalk waiting for me. He bounced up and down on his feet and it made him look like had to go to the bathroom.

  “I thought you’d never get here,” he said as he rushed over to my bike.

  I set the kickstand and pulled my baseball cap down low over my forehead. The ride and the wind almost blew it off.

  We opened the door, and a bell jingled. Glass cabinets lined the entryway. Inside were handcuffs and top hats, white gloves and magic wands. The back wall behind the register was covered with life-size pictures of famous magicians like Harry Houdini and David Copperfield. The Amazing Zoltan’s picture was there as well.

  In the center of the room was a box that they used to saw a woman in half. In the back corner, a glass box for submerging a man in water stood.

  Racks of black capes and tuxedos of all sizes hung in a small alcove. Large metal rings, swords, and cages were suspended from hooks in another area.

  We moved over to a shelf filled with card tricks and a display of simple magic gags in plastic bags.

  “Can I help you boys?” a man asked, as he emerged from between black curtains.

  We turned to see a fat man with a full beard and a ring on every finger.

  “We…we…” I started.
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  But Jake stepped forward. “We wanted to know if you were offering those magic classes again. My dad signed me up for stupid swimming lessons the last time the magic class was offered, and I wanted to see when it was going to start up again.”

  The man looked over at me.

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding my head.

  The man rubbed his chin. The bristly whiskers scratched under his fingers. “I’m not sure when we’re offering that class again,” he said. “Come with me while I check. The classroom’s back here.” He pulled the curtain and motioned for us to enter.

  Slowly, I moved forward and slipped behind the curtain. Jake followed close behind.

  The man walked over to a desk in the right corner. “This is Zoltan’s desk. I bet he has that information.” He shuffled through a bunch of papers. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”

  We followed close behind. His desk was covered with books and small boxes.

  Jake grabbed my arm and pointed to the shelf behind Zoltan’s desk. A row of small clay jars stood perfectly lined up on it. Each jar was about three to four inches in height. A piece of cloth covered the opening on the top, and a golden rope was wrapped around the neck of each one. A ring hung down from one of the golden ropes. A skeleton key hung from the next one. A Chinese coin, a charm from a bracelet, a watch face, more items continued down the row.

  Then I saw it.

  Nick’s blue handkerchief, the same one that The Amazing Zoltan had asked Nick for at the library.

  I pointed to that jar on the end.

  Jake nodded.

  The man said, “I bet the new flyer is by the cash register. I’ll be right back.” He stepped through the black curtain and was gone.

  Jake didn’t wait. He raced around the desk, grabbed the jar with Nick’s handkerchief attached, and tossed it to me.

  I ripped my baseball cap off and caught the jar as it flew across the desk. It dropped into my cap and I flipped it on. I pulled it down tight and felt the jar settle on my skull.

  Was this stealing? How could you steal what had already been stolen?

  Jake slipped from behind the desk and stood next to me.

  “Here are the fliers for that new class,” the man said as he returned. He handed each one of us a yellow sheet. “The hand is quicker than the eye,” I read on the top of the page. “Learn magic, amaze your friends,” was printed below that.

  I felt the jar shift on top of my head, and I jerked, trying to keep my cap in place.

  The man looked at me.

  My hand went up to my cap, and I scratched. “New haircut,” I said, and pulled the cap down securely on my head.

  “Well boys, have a great night,” he said and followed us to the front door.

  We walked out onto the sidewalk and headed for my bike.

  “Whew, that was close,” Jake said. He grabbed my bike to stabilize his shaking knees.

  My fingers curled around the handlebars. “I know,” I said.

  Suddenly, a shadow towered over us, and I felt a big hand grab my shoulder.

  Chapter Seven

  Jake and I slowly turned around and looked up. “Dad? What are you doing here?” I asked, letting out the breath that I had been holding.

  “Hey,” Jake said, unable to say anything else.

  My dad stood there. His pocket protector was bursting with pens. “I just picked up pizza at Angelo’s for supper tonight. Jake, would you like to join us?” Dad smiled.

  “I don’t want to bother anyone,” Jake said.

  I pointed to my baseball cap.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what I meant.

  “You could come over and we could work on that project to help Nick,” I said, tapping my cap again.

  Jake’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Oh, yeah, right, the project.”

  “Yes, the project,” I agreed.

  “Come on, Matthew, we can throw your bike in the back of the SUV, and I can give you guys a ride home.”

  I looked at Jake, unsure of what to do.

  “The pizza is getting cold,” Dad said.

  Looking around, I saw the SUV in front of Angelo’s. Jake pushed my bike to the back end, while I balanced the jar and my cap on my head.

  “I’m glad you could join us for supper tonight Jake,” my mother said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Nick. We haven’t seen him or his mother around lately. Has he been sick?”

  “He’s been out of school all week. I’m not sure what’s wrong,” I lied.

  “I’m sure he’ll be feeling better soon.” Mom took a piece of pizza and offered Jake another slice.

  “One more piece. I’ll be too full to move. I may have to stay the night,” Jake joked.

  “Why don’t you? It isn’t a school night. I’m sure Matthew would love to have you stay over.”

  “I’ll have to call my parents,” Jake said, “but I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

  I smiled. I knew we’d figure out something to help Nick.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” Jake asked.

  We both were dressed from head to foot in black, and it was after one o’clock in the morning. My house was silent as we snuck out of my room.

  Chief followed us, his toenails clicking on the floor.

  “Chief, you need to stay in bed. Jake and I’ll be right back,” I said.

  Chief’s ears dropped as he headed back into my room and jumped onto the bed.

  Jake closed my bedroom door, and we slowly made our way down the stairs.

  A full moon shone between the houses as we sneaked over to Nick’s. I shone my flashlight into Nick’s bedroom window to wake him.

  To my surprise, the beam of light revealed Nick looking out at us. His pale face looked blue in the light as he stared unblinking at us. His hair was ruffled and stood up in cowlicks. His hollow eyes followed us as we raced across the yard to his back door.

  I lifted the ceramic frog, which held the key to their back door.

  Jake and I slipped into the kitchen and waited. Would Nick come down or would we have to sneak up to his bedroom?

  The beam from my flashlight played across the kitchen floor, and we waited in the dark.

  A shadow appeared in the doorway and slowly entered.

  “Nick?” I asked, in a whisper.

  No response, except a shuffling of feet on the wooden floor. Someone was creeping nearer. My flashlight’s beam moved to the shadow.

  Nick walked into the beam and looked at us.

  “Nick, we’re here to help you,” I said. I reached into my hooded sweatshirt and pulled out the clay jar.

  Jake moved next to me, but his foot slipped on something on the floor. His body hit mine, and I lost my balance. The small clay jar flew out of my hands. I tried to catch it, but as if in slow motion, it turned end over end as it sailed through the air toward Nick. Gravity took over. The jar started to drop toward the floor.

  Nick blinked once, but made no attempt to catch the jar. It continued on its path, turning end over end as it hurtled toward the floor.

  The clay jar landed at Nick’s feet.

  It shattered and its contents exploded onto the floor.

  Nick looked down at the mess at his feet and then looked into my eyes for the first time in a very long time. He slowly opened his mouth; spit pulled from his dry lips as they parted. His tongue came out and touched his lips. “Matthew” came out of his mouth like a gasp of air escaping from a leaking tire.

  Chapter Eight

  Nick’s mouth opened again. His lips were gooked up with thick, white mucus. It stretched like a rubber band as his mouth opened wider.

  The cloud of dust and ashes swirled around his feet. The moonlight made it sparkle and dance.

  Nick looked down at his feet and at the broken clay jar. He then looked back at me. “Yooooouuuu, idiot,” escaped out of his mouth.

  It worked! Nick was back!

  I wanted to jump up and down. Nick was back, but he had a blank exp
ression on his face. Why didn’t he look happier?

  “I’m so sorry I did this to you. I can’t believe I caused this whole stupid thing to happen. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Confusion showed on Nick’s face.

  Jake looked at me.

  “What the heck is going on down here?” A voice boomed as the kitchen light came on and blinded us.

  I raised my arm to shield my eyes and saw Nick’s dad standing in the doorway. He looked down at the three of us. “What are you guys doing? Nick, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Storm. I’m the one that caused this. I’m so sorry for what I did to Nick. I didn’t mean to turn him into a Zombie.”

  There, it was out.

  I finally said it.

  I admitted what I had done.

  Nick’s dad looked at me like I had two heads and then burst into laughter. He sat down in a kitchen chair and roared.

  Nick swallowed hard, stepped forward, and softly said, “Matthew, I wasn’t a Zombie. I had my tonsils taken out.” Each word hurt him as he said them, but he forced himself to do it.

  Now it was my turn to feel like an idiot. “What?” I said.

  Mr. Storm wiped his eyes and waved us over. “Come on boys and sit down.”

  Jake and I slowly followed.

  Nick’s dad shook his head as his laughter faded. He grinned, “Matthew, I think I have to apologize to you. I should’ve told you and your parents what happened to Nick.”

  “What did happen to Nick?” I asked, confusion buzzing around in my brain.

  “When Nick got home from The Amazing Zoltan show, he had a sore throat. He went straight to bed because he didn’t feel good. In the middle of the night, it became worse, and we ended up going into the emergency room. The doctor admitted him to the hospital. Nick ended up having surgery to take out his tonsils early Sunday morning. We were able to bring him home Monday, but they told us to keep him out of school for a few days.”

  I looked at Nick, and he slowly nodded his head and did a painful swallow.

  “We shouldn’t have sent him to school on Friday, but we thought he was ready.”

  I turned to Nick. “So, I didn’t turn you into a Zombie?”