by E. Van Lowe
The moaning from the audience grew louder and more intense. Then, suddenly and without warning, the zombies in the audience began to rise from their seats.
"What's happening?" whispered Taft as student zombies began making their way to the stage.
"Ms. Johnson!" Penny field said, his voice rising.
"Umm, I can explain, sir," I said as every zombie in the house made for Baron and Sybil.
He held up a finger, shushing me. "No, no. I understand completely. And... it's beautiful. The entire student body honoring those who have come before." His voice cracked with emotion. "Touching."
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"That's it. Gotta go," I called as the zombies began to surround my friends.
Yes. I have another school pageant to attend as well. But I'm so glad I got a chance to meet you, Ms. Johnson. This is the most inspiring Holiday Pageant ever. You have done your school proud."
Taft gave me a quick wink and hustled an emotional Pen-nyfield out. A moment later I was racing for the booth.
Onstage, Sybil and Baron were nearly surrounded. Their screams were real. They had stopped moving and were standing on top of the trapdoor to the pit, waiting for me to release it so they could drop to safety. I got to the booth and hit the button for the pit door as planned.
It didn't open.
I peered out the booth window at the stage below. A wave of nausea floated through my belly. Sybil and Baron were trapped.
The zombies shuffled toward them, extending their arms, fingers twitching with anticipation. They couldn't wait to have my friends join them among the living dead.
I wanted to run down to the stage and distract the zombies. But I knew by the time I got there it would be too late. I hit the button again and again, but nothing happened,
I slid the booth window open. "It's stuck!" I screamed down to them. "Run!"
I was wasting my voice. There was no place for them to run to.
The zombies stopped advancing, their eyes all moving to me in the safety of my little booth above the stage.
Just then Baron started jumping up and down.
Bounce--crash!
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Over and over he landed hard on the stuck trapdoor. The sound brought the zombies' attention back to him and Sybil.
"Jump!" Baron called. Sybil didn't move. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fell to her knees. From the look of her it was game over.
Baron grabbed her hand. "Come on, we can do this, Sybil. Jump,"he urged. The soft pleading of his voice must have cut through the fear that had clogged her brain, because she suddenly got up, filled with a berserk frenetic energy. Together they jumped up.
When Sybil jumped she pitched her arms up into the air, her legs splayed wide, as if throwing every ounce of fight left in her into it. As serious as the situation was, her spastic movements were hilarious.
Crash! When they landed the trapdoor gave way with a thunderous crack. Just as the zombies reached them, Baron and Sybil fell through to the pit below, and then the door slammed shut.
The zombies onstage staggered in herky-jerky circles, trying to figure out what had become of their prey. I slumped back in my chair and heaved a huge sigh. Yet instead of waves of relief washing over me, I realized I'd been smiling, chuckling.
OK my God! Stop it! I thought. This is nothing to laugh about I told myself the chuckling was because of Sybil's spas tic movements I hoped that was true.
It was then I heard Sybil scream.
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Chapter Twenty - three
Sybil's screams propelled me down to the basement and up to the door leading to the pit. When I entered, Sybil was sitting across the cramped room on an old wooden stool. She was alternately sobbing and screaming. Baron was crouched by her side, attempting to console her.
Milton was by the door looking on. "She seemed okay at first, and then all of a sudden she started freaking out."
"I... could ... have ... Ahhhhh!" Sybil wailed. Baron patted her hand, and spoke to her in a soothing tone.
"I guess when it sank in that she was this close to becoming one of them..." Milton's words trailed off. "My diagnosis is it's a mild case of hysteria. She'll be okay." He moved away.
"It's all right, Sybil. We're fine now," said Baron. There was concern in his voice. "I wouldn't have let anything happen to you." She sniffled and nodded. She was calming now. Baron continued to pat her hand.
At that moment a rush of jealousy surged through me like a shot of adrenaline. This was a side of Baron I hadn't seen before--or hadn't taken the time to notice. Baron had been
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calm and resourceful in saving their lives, and now he was comforting Sybil. It was the kind of gallant thing I would have expected from ... Dirk.
I should have rushed to my friend's side and thrown my arms around her. But seeing her being comforted by Baron, I couldn't I just couldn't.
"Well, it looks like everything's okay here. I think I should go check on Dirk. Great job, guys."
It was only then that Sybil realized I was in the room. She looked up at me, still sniffling, her eyes narrowed. "Where did you say you were going?"
"Dirk. I just want to check on him. I'll be back."
Her red-rimmed eyes seared into me.
"Dirk!" she cried, her voice crackling. "We could have died at the hands of zombies and you want to go check on one of them?"
"Technically, they're not zombies," Milton called. "They're victims of a viral infection that seems to affect the entire frontal lobe-"
"Not now, Milton," said Baron.
"I'm just saying, zombies want to eat your brains out. All these guys want to do is kill you."
Sybil's eyes were still on me.
"Well... you didn't die," I said in a dismissive tone. "Baron saved you."
"We saved each other." His voice was soft and soothing as he massaged Sybil's shoulder.
She stared at me in silence. The look in her eyes was unnerving. I'd never seen anything like it from her before. It was a look of... disgust.
"See here," called Milton. He was holding two plywood slats with nails sticking out of them. "Someone nailed it shut."
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He pointed with one of the slats, and we looked up to the ceiling, where the remaining plywood slats that had kept the pit door from opening now hung ready to collapse.
"Well, would you look at that," I said, my voice sounding unnatural.
"My diagnosis, someone did this on purpose." Milton turned to Baron. " told you, homie. We are not alone."
"Let's not jump to any conclusions. It could have been nailed shut from before," I said weakly. "Who knows? Maybe it's been nailed shut since last year."
"You didn't test it?" Sybil's eyes raged at me. Her stare was like a blowtorch against my flesh. 1 had to get away.
"No," I said. "I... didn't. I'm sorry."
"She didn't do it on purpose," Baron said, coming to my defense. "She's had a lot on her mind with the pageant and everything." He looked at me. "I knew you'd pull it off." There was empathy in his soft, hazel eyes. I looked at Sybil. Hers were filled with fury.
"We must be getting close," Milton said. "Someone is really trying to stop us."
"I need to find Dirk. If what you say is true he may be in danger." It was a weak excuse, but I had to say something, anything, to get away from Sybil's accusing gaze. I turned to go.
"Trust no one," Milton called as I exited.
"Yes," I heard Sybil say as the door closed behind me. "Trust no one."
My mind was a jumble of emotion as I headed away from the pit room. I did not try to clear it. As long as my thoughts were jammed together into a ball of emotional Silly Putty, I didn't have to think. Thinking meant facing myself, and that, I was sure, was an ugly proposition. So I cruised down the corridor, my mind a total blur.
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The basement corridor was dimly lit. It had been an eerie place even before the zombies arrived. Since their arrival it was like something straight out o
f a horror flick. Suddenly I stopped, my heart pounding. Four zombie girls were standing in the shadows at the end of the corridor.
They were at least a hundred feet away. If I had to, I knew I could escape by going back in the direction I'd come. No problem.
I calmed myself.
"Mmmmuh." Upon seeing me, a soft moan escaped one of the girls. She stepped toward me, emerging from the shadows. It was Amanda. Her yellow sundress was even more rumpled and frayed than before. This creature was a far cry from the fastidious Amanda we'd all come to know and hate.
The four it-girl zombies smoothed their rumpled clothes, their dark eyes never leaving me.
Are they going to attack?
I took a halting step backward, peering into the Amanda thing's eyes. They seemed awash with indifference.
Then she began to move--not toward me, but away from me.
The Zombiettes instinctively shambled after her.
"Where are you going?" I heard myself call. The emotion I'd been keeping bottled up inside cascaded out of me. "You're never going to get to be anything around here ever again unless you bite me!"
The zombies disappeared around the bend in the corner.
I rushed to the corner and stepped around. The four zombie girls were shuffling away. "You hear me, Amanda? I'm the popular one now. Your reign is over unless you bite me!" Propelled by emotion, I took a few steps after them. "What are you so afraid of? Bite me!" I screamed. They didn't stop or look
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back. They continued moving away, and in a few moments they were gone.
Alone in the corridor, I crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks. The snub from Amanda had caught me off guard. But one thing became clear--I was still a zero in her zombie eyes, just as I'd been since the eighth grade. "Bite me," I rasped.
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Chapter Twenty - four
At home that evening, I sat on the edge of my bed staring at the walls, the Holiday Pageant playing over in my mind like a horrible dream. I could still see Baron and Sybil scrambling, could still hear their screams. It wasn't funny now. It was tragic. Someone had tried to kill my best friend.
Perhaps my laughter had been some sort of defense mechanism for handling pain, I told myself. Yes, that was it! I wasn't chuckling over my friend's near demise; I was dealing with the pain of her near-death experience.
My thoughts moved to the room beneath the pit, where I could still see Baron comforting her.
Well why wouldn't he comfort her? Stupid fools nearly got themselves killed. They deserve each other.
A tiny smile appeared on my lips.
Stop it! That's not funny.
Yes, it is. Can you imagine geeky Baron actually being somebody's boyfriend? Who'd want him? And you definitely don't need a geek like him comforting you.
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I don't?
Of course not. Your boyfriend is the cutest, most popular boy in school--Dirk Conrad. Now all you have to do is keep your mind on the manifesto--chairman of all the important committees, a boyfriend, popularity. That's what's important You should be glad that the Amanda zombie didn't bite you. You're better than her.
I was the most popular girl at Salesian High. Forget about Sybil, Baron, and Amanda. I didn't need any of them. My thoughts found solace in the dark place.
I went to the living room, where Dirk was watching reruns of Fear Factor with my parents. He was sitting on the couch next to my father, a takeout box of ribs between them.
"Is everything all right, dear?" my mother asked.
"Yes. Dirk and I just need to practice for our big dance, in case I'm crowned winter queen next Friday night."
"Your father and I are so proud of you," my mother said. Her words caught me off guard.
"Urnm, thanks."
"You're so popular all of a sudden. Your father and I always knew you would be. You're an amazing young lady."
"You think I'm... amazing?" A small smile appeared on my lips.
She looked at me as if my question was totally ridiculous. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah." Then I said, "Mom, what was it like when you were in high school?"
She shook her head and laughed. "I wouldn't wish for that again,"
"Why not?"
She thought about it a moment. "I wasn't popular like you when I was in high school. Look at you--running for queen of
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the Winter Dance. And I didn't have a good friend like Sybil, and a boyfriend..." She laughed as if it was a ridiculous notion. "I wasn't sure of myself, like you are. High school for me was not fun."
In that moment I felt as though I was living a lie. I dismissed the thought.
"You're having a great time in high school, and we're happy for that. Just remember what's important, dear."
And now, yet another brief note to parents: Stop being so cryptic with your advice to us. "Keep your head on straight." "Remember what's important." If our response to your words of wisdom is a smile and a nod, we have no idea what you're talking about.
I smiled and nodded.
"Ooh, look, they're eating giant beetles," she called, pointing to the TV. Her attention shifted back to the show.
I took Dirk by the hand and led him away.
"Leave your door open!" my father called.
Back in my room, I attempted to get Dirk to take me in his arms. He tried to bite me.
"Listen to me, Dirk," I said, stepping away. "I know these past weeks together must mean something to you. And that beneath the zombie haze that's fogged up your brain, you really care for me. So I need for you to concentrate right now. Okay?"
I thought of my mother's words: "I wasn't popular like you when I was in high school."
"Just imagine you and me, the king and queen of the Winter Dance, dancing across the gymnasium floor, with the entire student body--Amanda, Sybil, Baron--all looking on. The most popular kids at school-- us. Wouldn't that be fabulous?"
"Mmmm."
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Was that a grunt of recognition? Am I getting through to him?
"Okay. Then we have to do this." I inched closer and gingerly placed myself in his arms. That's it," I said softly. I began to hum "Wonderful Tonight." It was the perfect song for a queen's dance.
Dirk folded me into his arms, allowing me to lead him awkwardly into a dance. We bumped into my desk, the dresser, my bed, but we were dancing. I closed my eyes, and was whisked away to the Winter Dance, gliding gracefully across the floor, every jealous eye in the house on me, while Eric Clapton captured my feelings so perfectly, singing of the beautiful lady on his arm who looked wonderful tonight.
Dirk's grip tightened.
"Ease up, Dirk, you're hurting me."
"Mmmmmahhh!" His lips parted and began moving toward my shoulder.
"No, Dirk! Concentrate!"
His arms were like vise grips, squeezing tighter and tighter. I struggled in his grasp, but he was too strong. There was no way I could escape. Saliva drizzled from his hungry lips, onto my shoulder and down my arm. I pulled the newspaper from my waistband, and swatted him across the nose.
"Yeeeeee!" His head snapped back instantly. He released me and retreated across the room, cowering onto my bed.
I looked at Dirk, saw the fear in his crimson eyes.
Is this the boyfriend I'd dreamed of all through junior high?
Tears welled up in my eyes as thoughts of Baron and Sybil holding hands, Amanda and her Twigettes rejecting me, fired through. I was the most popular girl at school, and yet I felt invisible.
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"We'll show them." My lips were trembhng.
I pulled a few meat scraps from the Baggie on my desk. Then I moved to the bed and held my arms open wide. "Come, darling," I called softly. "Let's try it again."
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Chapter Twenty - five
The following evening, Dirk and I were back in my room. It was a little less than a week away from the Winter Dance, and I was determined to have him hold me i
n his arms.
It wasn't love that drove me. I was fueled by the darkness in my soul. All the darkness wanted to do was win, achieve my manifesto, and thumb my nose at those who'd doubted me. Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah--look at what I did! In an attempt to cheer myself up I pulled out the mamfesto;
In Margot Jean Johnson, being of sound mind
And in front of my best friends, Sybil Mulcahy and the entire world, hereby decree that my high
school experienced will for exceed that of junior high.
"Yes," I said, pumping my fist into the air. I expected a delicious satisfaction to course through me. Instead, I felt nothing.
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I will be popular
"Yes, again." I was the Salesian High it-girl. And so what if there were only two living girls in the entire school. I was the chairman of the Yearbook Committee; I was the chairman of the Winter Dance Committee; I set the trends; I called the shots. Me, me, me, me, me! I was the queen bee.
"Yes, once again." The Winter Dance would be the social event of the year, maybe even the decade. I made out the guest list so Amanda Culpepper and the undead heads were persona non grata.
With all this good news, shouldn't I be dancing on the ceiling? Instead, I was feeling worse.
I will have a boyfriend ....
I looked over at Dirk and was bathed in a certain dread. It came as a cold clamminess chilling me to my bones.
"Are you worth it?" I asked. I had sacrificed my ethics, my friends, myself to achieve ... what?
Of course he's worth it By the end of the semester you will hove realized every high school goal you ever set for yourself