22

Undead and Unapologetic

Nick had to admit that, if your dead parents suddenly became enthusiastically undead, Halloween night was a pretty good time for it to happen.

After leaving Cemetery Hill, they passed more confidently along the streets. They were two kids trick-or-treating with their parents decked out as over-the-top zombies. They got lots of thumbs up from other trick-or-treaters for their Halloween spirit.

In twenty minutes, the Breimas had found their way to a small pizzeria and claimed a back booth. The children sat across from their parents—their newly undead parents.

The restaurant was dimly lit, though even in the low light, Lottica and Nick were shocked to see how beat up their parents were. Their burial clothes, however, were not the usual tattered rags of Hollywood zombies. Their father sported a finely tailored dark suit and their mother wore a lovely blue velvet gown that flattered her diminutive frame.

From there things literally deteriorated. Their skin was a battlefield of blisters and pockmarks, bruised and bloated in ghastly hues. Their eyes were a sickly and drippy yellow, especially their father's left eye. Lottica felt it might slide out at almost any moment. She stared at it as her father scarfed down a fourth slice of pizza.

"Lottica, try not to stare," her mother, ever well mannered, reminded.

"Can you blame me, Mom?"

"Well, no, but this is hard for all of us."

"Why don't you try eating something?" Nick asked his mother who’d only picked at a single piece of pizza.

"Sorry, Nick. I'm a bit discombobulated." She made a circular motion with her hand, which pivoted way too loosely at the wrist.

Glancing furtively about the almost-empty pizza shop, Nick wondered how discombobulated the rest of the general public would be, if they knew zombies, though harmless and well mannered, were walking and eating pizza among them.

He turned to his father. "Dad, are you ready to tell us what's going on?"

Deilune continued to chew distractedly, his one good eye glazed in thought. Linda gave her husband a gentle poke in the side with her elbow. Both Lottica and Nick noted how far her elbow sunk into his side. Like he was made of gelatin. The whole thing was beyond bizarre. They needed some answers.

"Oh, um, sorry!" Deilune snapped back to the attention of his family after finally feeling the deep poke in his side. His good eye found Nick. "What were you asking, son?"

"Well, I've got a thousand questions, like what’s that light in your chest? Do you remember the explosion? Why are you hungry? How come you don’t stink?”

“Nicholas!”

“Sorry, Mom, but you’ve been in a concrete box for three months. I’ve studied a lot of biology and anatomy. I know how life—and death—are supposed to work. So, it really boils down to the big question. And please don't take this wrong, but how can you guys be alive?"

Their father had always had an endearing grin. His broad face, largish ears, wildly curly hair, made him disarmingly impish. Like a leprechaun ready to steal away your seriousness, ready to make you dance a jig, or take a dare you knew was decidedly risky.

Deilune leaned into the table and whispered conspiratorially, "You sure you're ready for it?"

Even though the question was addressed to them all, Nick felt it was especially directed at him. Ever in the spell of his father, he wanted to be just like him, but felt the nagging dread that he would never measure up. Even after his dad’s death, Nick had still felt those expectations. Seeing his father somehow reborn, ready to tackle this amazing mystery, Nick was grateful to be his son—again.

"Dale, dear, we really don't have time for all the theatrics. Get on with the story. It's getting late," Linda urged.

"Oh, no!" Nick frantically checked his watch. It was after eleven. "It’s way late! I gotta call Grandfather and Grandmother. I have to call Jake Borden. People will be looking for us!"

"Good call, Nick. The story can wait. We don't want to attract too much attention, especially when we're not looking our best." Deilune brushed back his wild curls, pulling a small leaf from them. "You go call Jake. I’ll call my parents."

Reflexively, he patted his jacket pocket before realizing how unlikely it was that he’d find his cell phone there. He looked sheepishly at his children.

“Don’t look at us,” Lottica said. “You think Grandfather and Grandmother Breima would let us have cell phones. We were lucky they got us an internet connection for the laptop.”

Nick looked over at the shop counter. “They’ll probably let me make a call.”

They watched him ask the cashier who was idly swiping through her phone. She nodded and he picked up the store phone. He came back pretty shortly.

"That was a bit bizarre,” he reported. “I guess it's just a good thing that people expect all kinds of weirdness on Halloween, or we'd be in some real trouble with the Bordens. And possibly have cops all over the city looking for us."

“What happened? Didn’t the Bordens try to call your grandparents when you didn’t show up?” Linda asked.

“Evidently, someone claiming to be Grandfather called the Bordens a few hours ago to tell them we wouldn’t be able to make it,” Nick explained.

Eyes wide, Lottica asked, “Do you think it was one of those guys with the capes chasing us?”

Linda’s already buggy eyes, bulged a bit more. “Who was chasing you?”

“It’s all part of that long story we promised to tell you,” Lottica reassured her.

“Well, let’s get to it!” Linda demanded.

Nick hesitated. “I think we should wait until we get back to Grandfather and Grandmother’s. Dad, you should call and warn them first.”

“They’ll just think it’s a prank,” Lottica said.

“No,” Deilune sighed knowingly. “I don’t think they will.”