Saturday, April 26, 2014

THE PLACE WHERE THE SCREAM CAME FROM ..... 4/26/14

They had a room... a lair under the faux terrazzo floor accessed via a tan,little painted, (to match the rest of the surface) galvanized metal panel. There was a key. They had that too. Years ago, the janitorial guys kept mops and solvents down there. Had to haul it all up and down this little aluminum ladder, but OSHA nixed that a long time ago. So now the buckets and mops live in what used to be WIG CITY, 'cause that place closed when Eva Gabor died. God knows what they do with dynel these days. Probably make bullet proof vests out of it.

But the zombies have it all set up... Two old flip chairs from CHEAP SEATS.... A twenty year old, thirteen inch Daewoo color TV hooked up to a small, black 'high definition' converter box from RADIO SHACK.... some little refrigerator stocked with Poland Water from the food court. They only pilfer a few at a time, so the manager won't know. The computer scanner thing by the register is supposed to keep track, but he don't have it set up right. Guy's a real schmuck. Ralphie, the second zombie calls him Schmuck-Schmuck-Schmucky-Schmuck. Thinks he looks like Adam Levine or Carson Daly. And maybe he does, if they fell out a helicopter and bounced a few hundred times.

Ezekiel, the first zombie is down there too. So's Opal.They got her all trussed up like an Inca mummy. Tied her up with gimp from THE HOBBY HUT. Black and red. They got a 'thing' for black and red. Ezekiel gets down to whisper in her ear. He goes - Soon you'll be a flesh eater too. Just like him.... Then he gestures toward what's left of Gary the former weird nightwatchman... Mostly just a dripping, oozing, grizzly skeleton now, little bits of skin, hair and fatty stuff.... They got a place deep in the woods, out beyond the parking lot. Used to be an old graveyard back in the day, like during The Mexican American War.  That's where Ezekiel got planted. Eighteen forty six. Thing is, he wasn't all the way dead when it happened. Still had a little bit of life in him, like an old, double 'A' battery rolling around a junk drawer that gets snapped into a little, ear-bud radio for a few more raps or rock anthems. Dressed him up in a black, serge suit, a white shirt, a black neck cloth. Tight too. Like what Johnny Jump Up wore. Some of you might remember him from back before the vampirino known as Tomas died.... Put him in a snug, black, varnished coffin, like an individual, wide-at-the -shoulders cigar case for usually dead folks. Ezekiel, I mean. Nailed it shut. Lowered it in and covered it up. You know how much dirt it takes to fill a grave? Almost a ton... and that's when it's dry. When it's wet it's like cement. Can't move inside one a them 'dead boxes' either. Ain't no turning over in no grave. That's just in stories. That's just a pipe dream. 

But Ezekiel managed to inch his hands up by his chest. Broke a few fingers. Smashed his nose. Ain't much head room, too, you know. Screamed. Defecated. Guess he pissed himself. Had to. It's like a hard wired reflex. Lid cracked. Hands all cut up. Bleeding and all. That's how the microbes get in... the zombie making microbes. Keep folks alive til they get out... if they get out. Bugs can only do so much. Some buried alive folks don't make  it. And they lay there, all contorted, maybe three or four feet below the surface, dead in the heavy, cold dark. Stayin' in the box and breathing heavy would a been better. I guarantee.

Gonna plant whats left of Gary. Not in a coffin. Just in the dirt. As a 'whole,' he's dead. But tiny, little masses of gelatinous cells might still be livin'. That's all it takes. Microbes do their work and he'll live again.  Won't look like much. Not at first. But after a few good, human meat feeds, that'll change. Wet, fatty. bacony strips grow 'cross the bones, like strange mold on strange rocks. They, Ralphie and Ezekiel, I mean, gone let him feed on Opal. Then, when she mostly dear, gonna plant her too.

Zombie like company, even if they gotta make 'em theirself. 

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