Floodwater Zombies

by Sean Thomas Fisher

  “I just don’t get why we can’t do a long distance thing for awhile,” she had sniveled. “Maybe after I’ve been out there to visit, I’ll change my mind.”

  Anger had coursed through his veins at her suggestion because he knew her better than that. He knew she’d never leave this town. This town wasn’t just her home, it was her world and she had never expressed much interest in anything outside of it. Not counting Kirkwood Mall in Bismarck anyway. No, long distance relationships were for people too afraid to face reality and cut the cord, people who enjoyed throwing good money after bad. Rory didn’t want to become that guy, constantly calling and texting and emailing. Always checking up on someone he was getting to know less and less with each passing day.

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel had finally said into the phone, her voice little more than a quiver. With the wind knocked from him one last time, he had simply hung up. Hung up and drove away with tears in his eyes, embarking upon a new life in Charleston, South Carolina he wasn’t so sure he even wanted anymore.

  He had seen Rachel a handful of times since, usually over the holidays or a summertime visit. But their passing exchanges had always been limited to awkward small talk until going their separate ways again, each left with a bag full of what ifs rattling around inside their heads.

  Laura stared at him over the mug and narrowed her eyes. “Rory?”

  He turned to her, his eyes dialing back into focus. “She’s dating someone else now,” he said flatly.

  A short burst of laughter ruffled her lips. “Yeah, that foul mouthed new DJ on 102.9 The Weasel.”

  “The Wolf.”

  “Whatever. Last week I heard him call a church and tell them he was possessed and needed an exorcism.”

  Rory snorted, blowing milk out his nose. “What?” he said, wiping his face with his shoulder.

  “The pastor tried to exorcize him right there over the phone. I bet the poor man about had a heart attack.” She paused to take another sip, her unfocused eyes loosely aimed at a blue toaster sitting on the counter. “Rachel can do better than that.”

  Rory stopped chewing, willing his mom not to say it, to just leave it alone.

  “You should’ve never let her go,” she said wistfully.

  He cringed and dropped the spoon into the bowl with a loud clatter. “What was I supposed to do? Turn down my dream job?”

  Her eyes swept back to him. “You could’ve taken her with you.”

  His face soured. “I tried!” he gasped. “You know that. I don’t know why you keep bringing it up.”

  “Well, you didn’t try hard enough because the two of you were good together and I just don’t want to see you make the same…” She trailed off and turned to face the large bay window over the kitchen sink, cupping the mug with both hands.

  Rory dropped his head and cleaned his teeth with his tongue. The sound of birds singing in the sun splashed backyard drifted through the house’s open windows as the moment of uncomfortable silence ran its course. He knew where his mom had been going. He knew that deep down she regretted marrying his father because she was still in love with another man. It was no secret she lamented settling with the one who put his business above her, but sometimes things just don’t work out. Like with Rachel. It had broken his heart to leave her behind, but he had bigger dreams that didn’t include this one horse town.

  Unfortunately, he had lost both the job and the girl, and was right back to where he had started. It was like he had time travelled back to his high school days, subject to someone else’s set of rules after being the king of his own castle for the past few years. He shook his head, imagining the sordid small talk he would undoubtedly face tonight. All of his old friends would be dying to know how in the world he ended up back here with his tail between his legs. He took a deep breath and released it.

  Laura cleared her throat and turned back around, her emotions back under control. “You should just take the job your father offered you,” she said, changing the subject.

  He rubbed his greasy face with both hands. “Mom, I’m not selling used cars. Please don’t make me tell you again or I swear to God I will hide your curling iron every day for a week.”

  “Well you shouldn’t have bought a new car, because I don’t know how you’re going to pay for it. Your idiot father’s mid-life crisis already cost us a new Corvette.”

  “Well, that’s a good point but here’s the thing…if I’d known I was going to get laid off, I probably wouldn’t have bought a new car.”

  She cocked her head and softened her eyes. “You’d only be in the used lot long enough to learn the ropes. Then he’d move you to the showroom.”

  He laughed lightly. “Mom, I’m not becoming a car salesman. I used to write a column, not car loans.”

  She tried to smile. “I know you did, honey, and we’re so proud of you. We really are, but unfortunately there doesn’t seem to be a high demand for movie reviewers right now. Maybe when the economy comes back, but...”

  Rory shifted in the high-backed chair and began flipping through his iPhone. “I can’t take the chance of ten years slipping by and I’m still selling cars.”

  Laura set the cup down and crossed the room, stopping behind his chair to massage his shoulders. “Sweetie, you know this job wouldn’t be forever,” she said softly, just as the doorbell rang.

  “Do I? The only way to make sure I don’t end up a used car salesman for the rest of my life is to never start being a used car salesman.”

  “Honey, I know you’re going to do great things and this would only be temporary.” She stopped rubbing his neck as a smooth silence floated across the room like a clean bed sheet. The doorbell sliced through it, fading back into the silence where it had come from. “Just give it some thought,” she said, squeezing his shoulders one more time and turning for the front door.

  He waited for her running shoes to squeak into the spacious living room before sending out a quick tweet that said: I give up, which posted to his Facebook page as well. He hated when people posted vague updates like that, but this time he let it slide and checked to see if Danielle had, by some miracle, emailed him. She hadn’t so he set the phone on the table and returned to rubbing his puffy face with both hands. His old room, decorated with bowling trophies, Twins pennants and a door poster of Pamela Anderson - clad in nothing but a white satin sheet - hadn’t helped him sleep last night. It was like a bad fever dream that left him checking his old digital clock every half hour or so. Unfortunately, he was already running low on money and had nowhere else to go.

  “Yo, what up, big baller?”

  Rory turned to see Woody stroll into the kitchen. His shaggy blond hair, white coral necklace and long board shorts made Rory stifle a laugh. The guy was still going for the surfer look even though he’d only been boogie-boarding two times while on vacation in Los Angeles back in high school. His tall, lanky frame only made his surfer look stand out that much more in the small town of thirty-six thousand down-to-earth, no-nonsense residents of Minot.

  “How’s it, bra?” Rory replied sarcastically.

  Woody wrinkled his brow and pulled out a chair. “You just wake up?” he asked, sitting down and smacking his head on the small chandelier hanging above the kitchen table. “Dammit,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead. “If that leaves a mark, I’m going to sue. Tonight’s my chance with Kate, bro! I can’t be having any injuries.”

  Rory laughed. “My money says the only thing you’re banging today is that light,” he said, pointing to the frosted globes swinging from side to side.

  “Don’t any of you have jobs?” Laura asked, her shoes squeaking back into the sunny kitchen.

  Woody smiled, showing off perfect rows of teeth that were nearly as white as his necklace. “I’m off today and tomorrow.”

  She cocked her head. “On a Monday?”

  “Bartender hours, Mrs. C, member?”

  “Oh that’s right,” she said, opening the fridge. “Applebee’s.”

  Woody
leaned on the table and gazed longingly at Laura’s backside bobbing in the air as she poked around in the refrigerator. “Buffalo Wild Wings,” he replied dully, licking his lips. She came back out with a bottle of water and a thing of Yoplait and Woody quickly returned his attention to Rory, who greeted him with a frown. Woody shrugged it off and looked away.

  “Uh-huh,” Laura replied absent-mindedly. “You hungry, Woodrow?”

  “Oh, I’m good, thanks. I’m gonna grab something on our way out to the lake.”

  Rory grimaced and kicked him under the table. Woody grunted and grabbed his shin as Laura turned to them with a puckered brow. “Oh no, this one is not going to the lake today. This one is going to be busy finding a job. He thinks there’s a magical money tree growing out in the backyard.”

  Rory sharpened his gaze. “Nice one, Spicoli,” he whispered, barely moving his lips.

  Woody crossed his leg and began wagging a red Nike atop his knee like a nervous dog. “Oops.”

  Bird calls floated through the open windows, filling the room as Laura took a long drink of water. Rory could feel her gaze upon him without making eye contact. Technically, he had already committed to going to the lake but, truthfully, he wasn’t in the mood to be catching up with the old gang. There would be some jabs awaiting him but the sooner he got it over with, the better. He couldn’t hide forever, although he wanted to give it a shot.

  Woody cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Rachel’s going to be there.”

  Laura slowly lowered the water bottle, her eyes thinning. “Well, I suppose a little fun couldn’t hurt.”

  Woody grinned and flashed Rory a quick wink.

  “But after that you are finding a job, mister,” she said sternly.

  “Is Ricky going to be there?”

  Woody shook his head. “He’s in Cancun with Kristin till Saturday.”

  “Bummer.”

  “They are such a cute couple!” Laura said.

  “They really are,” Rory added, picking up a salt shaker and staring at it forlornly. He inhaled deeply and released it. “Everything I see reminds me of Danielle.”

  Woody’s face crinkled. “Even a salt shaker?”

  “She loved salt. Put it on her pizza and everything.” Rory paused, turning the shaker in his hand. “We had so much in common.”

  “Dude, will you forget about Danielle! Tonight is the beginning of a new era. We’ll get a bonfire going, pound some brewskis, play some strip badminton… It’s going to be like a John Cougar Mellencamp video.”

  Laura giggled and licked yogurt from the silver top before tossing it in the garbage. “Better wear your good underwear.”

  “What about Clutch?” Rory asked, mocking Clutch’s deep radio voice. “Will Clutch be there asking everyone, what station just made you a winner?”

  Woody laughed through his nose and wiped clear snot from his upper lip. “Don’t worry; I’ll distract him long enough for you to lay some ground work with Rachel.”

  Rory leaned back and laughed. “And give her another shot to rip my heart out? No thanks!”

  “Oh Rory, stop being so dramatic!” Laura said, stirring the yogurt with a spoon. “The poor girl was terrified of leaving her family behind so cut her some slack. Everyone makes mistakes, even you.”

  “Things might be different now,” Woody said softly.

  “How, Woody? As soon as I get a hit on one of my resumes, I’ll be outta here again anyway. And she will never leave this town.”

  Woody lifted his sun bleached eyebrows. “What if you don’t get a hit? I mean, this economy is…”

  “I’ll get a hit,” Rory assured him, returning to his phone.

  Woody paused. “Ya know…it’s not that bad here, dude.”

  Rory stopped flicking screens and sighed, guilt mainlining through his veins. His eyes rose to find Woody’s. “I know it’s not that bad here. I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s all good,” Woody interrupted. “Personally, I hope you stay for awhile.”

  Laura grabbed a box of pepperoni Lean Pockets from the freezer. “I do not like that DJ guy.”

  Woody pulled his cell phone from a front pocket and woke the screen from its slumber. “I didn’t know you were such a country fan, Mrs. C.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t mind a little country.”

  “Clutch is actually a pretty cool guy. Plus, he gets us free concert tickets,” he said, punching buttons with his thumbs.

  Rory rolled his eyes and continued flipping through screens with an index finger.

  “But it doesn’t matter, Rachel definitely still has eyes for you, gangster.”

  Rory looked up. “Why do you say that?”

  “After I helped you unload your U-haul on Saturday, I ran into her at Target.”

  “Really?”

  Woody met his narrow gaze. “You should’ve seen the look on her face when I told her you were back in town.”

  Laura inhaled sharply. “I told you!” she said smugly, popping a Lean Pocket into the microwave.

  Rory cast a sideways look her direction and turned back to Woody. “What’d she say?”

  “What didn’t she say? It was like twenty-questions, dude, and here I was all sweaty and just wanting to grab a frozen pizza and some ice cream real quick.”

  “See?” Laura smiled. “She doesn’t really like that Hutch character.”

  “Clutch,” Woody corrected.

  She fanned a hand through the air at him and punched some button on the microwave, producing a series of beeps that sounded like Morse code. “Whatever.”

  “Anyway, she was all like, How long is he going to be back? Is Danielle with him? How’s he doing?” he rattled off in a high-pitched voice. “I’m tellin you, man, tonight is your night.” He grinned, flashing his pearly whites again.

  Rory let his gaze wander out the French doors, trying to convince himself that ship had sailed. He wouldn’t give her the chance to pull the football out from under him again. That was the last thing he needed right now. Besides, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t even afford a movie, let alone dinner and drinks. He was better off just focusing on getting back on his feet, regardless of how terminally hopeless that seemed.

  “Just no cell phones; that’s the new rule,” Woody said, returning his attention to his cell phone.

  Rory’s eyes jerked over to him, his face wrinkling in disgust. “What?”

  “I know it sounds scary but you actually have to talk to people face to face out there.”

  Rory stared at him, his mouth agape. “Are you nuts?”

  Laura chuckled. “I think you’ll manage,” she said. “Besides, if some masked man with a knife shows up, just think how much more of a challenge it’ll be.”

  Woody looked up from his phone and gulped loudly. “There’s not much reception out there anyway, but that’s the new rule,” he said, returning to his phone.

  “Who’s new rule?”

  “The girls’, and don’t even think about breaking it. Two weeks ago, Kate caught Cliff with his phone in his tent and he woke up to find it lying in a puddle of beer.”

  Rory laughed lightly. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “You know she’s part hippie.”

  “Well, good for Kate!” Laura said approvingly. “Look at you two right now, plugged into those things like some kind of bad Syfy movie. There’s a whole world out there going on around you and you don’t hear a word anyone says.”

  Rory turned to her with a flummoxed face. “What’s that now?”

  Her lips thinned. “Very funny.”

  “No, I’m serious. I didn’t hear a word you said; I just downloaded a new lightsaber app.”

  Woody smiled, swiping his finger across his cell phone’s screen. “Truth is it’s actually kinda nice to unplug every once in awhile.”

  Rory laughed loudly. “Easy for you to say, you know I have to play Angry Birds at least once an hour!”

  Woody looked up from the glow of his screen. “Did yo
u know that the guy who invented that game was a wrongly convicted murderer?”

  Rory and Laura each arched an eyebrow at him. “What?” they said in unison.

  Woody nodded. “New DNA evidence set him free.”

  Rory’s brow folded. “Angry Birds?”