Authors: Howard Whitehouse
Miss Foogler thought about it. “You must think what Jesus would have done in your circumstances.”
That was a good question. What would Jesus do if he was attacked by zombies?
KYLE: | Any idea? |
LARRY: | I dunno. He was arrested by the Roman soldiers, but they weren’t gonna bite his face off right there and then. |
KYLE: | Yeah, makes all the difference. |
I guess I was surprised by what Francine Brabansky said next.
“Miss Foogler, what did Jesus say about people who, like, attack perfectly innocent people going about their business at school or on the bus or at cheerleading practice?”
Miss Foogler thought a minute about all the things Jesus said about cheerleading practice. I guess she couldn’t remember anything about that in the
bible, so she said, “Jesus said if someone slaps us, we should turn the other cheek.”
“What if that someone was trying to rip out your cheek and bite you?” asked Francine.
Just then the bell rang to tell us it was time to go into church, so I never got to hear Miss Foogler’s answer.
But I did know that Francine Brabansky knew about the zombies.
We walked across the grass to the church.
It’s a separate building. So I had a minute to talk to Francine. Plus, if I talked to Francine, maybe Jennalee Williams wouldn’t kick me for the glue thing. Francine’s waaay tougher than Jennalee.
Except I had no idea what to say.
So it was good when she whispered, “You know about the zombies, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yup.”
“We have to do something,” said Francine. “You know. Kill ’em.”
“They’re already dead,” I pointed out.
“Don’t be a smart aleck,” she answered. Which was kind of rude. I started to explain about what Mr. O’Hara had told me, but she put her finger to my lips
(which was also kind of rude) so I didn’t say anything. Francine didn’t want to hear it.
“We gotta destroy ’em. You know the grown-ups aren’t gonna do anything. It’s up to us!”
We were at the church door now, and Miss Foogler shushed us. “Be quiet in church!” she told us, in a voice way louder than we were talking in.
We went inside. I sat with my family, halfway back on the right. I like to get behind a pillar if I can. Francine walked over to sit with her family too.
She smiled at me. She’d just got her braces off.
“Larry’s got a girlfriend!” sang my little sister, Honor. “Larry’s got a girlfriend!”
Like I didn’t have enough to deal with.
KYLE: | Okay, tell me about Francine Brabansky. |
LARRY: | You know Francine. She’s in your homeroom. |
KYLE: | Yeah, but I don’t mean that. I mean, suddenly she’s in the story, and we need to say something about her. |
LARRY: | Oh, right. Well, her name’s Francine Brabansky and she lives on Cedar Street and she’s kind of a tomboy. She’s not the regular cheerleader type, you know. Not a princess. She doesn’t have perfect hair or clothes or anything. But she’s real good at gymnastics and she’s strong. Like, punch-you-and-knock-you-down strong. Well, not me. Michael Murphy, in third grade. Is that enough? I mean, she has a hamster and a brother named Bob. She likes lacrosse. She has her own stick. Her dad’s a mail carrier, I think. |
KYLE: | Good enough. |
So Pastor Linda was reading announcements. There was going to be a yard sale, the choir was singing somewhere and Mr. Wiseman was in the hospital with a new hip. The whole time, people were still coming in. I guess it’s okay to be late for church. Maybe that’s because it’s on a weekend.
Anyway, I stood up like we were supposed to as the organ started up for the first hymn. But something was going on. Even over the music, I could hear the word
“BRAIIIINNNNSSSS
!!!!!” which was not what you usually get at church. I turned around, but I couldn’t see anything because of the people in the pew behind. I tried to look around old Mrs. Suffecool, but my dad tapped me on my shoulder. “Pay attention!” He shoved a hymn book at me. Page 392. “Take Thou Our Minds, Dear Lord.”
I could still hear it. This time it was “
NNGAARRRGGGGHHH
!!!!”
Mrs. Suffecool snored a bit when Pastor Linda was giving the sermon, but she’s not a zombie. Someone else must be in here. I wracked my brains to figure out if any zombies I knew came to this church.
You know what I mean.
Of course. It had to be Mr. Phalen. He drives an ambulance. I could see him standing by the back row, stumbling forward. He was still wearing his uniform. It had a big, brown stain down the front.
Mr. Phalen was shambling up the aisle.
Pastor Linda noticed him and smiled. Then she stopped smiling.
I guess the organist noticed too, because she stopped playing right in the middle of the hymn. The organ made kind of a wheezing noise.
“Pat Phalen!” called out Pastor Linda. “Pat! Are you alright?”
I knew he wasn’t all right, being a zombie and all. But Pastor Linda’s an adult and—like I’ve said—the adults weren’t real on top of this whole zombie outbreak deal at all. I guess she thought he was sick or something.
When I knew he was dead or something.
I really like Pastor Linda. She’s real nice to us kids and never yells at us when we make noise or pinch
each other while she’s talking. I didn’t want her to get bitten.
But I knew she was going to. She’d come down out of the pulpit and ask Mr. Phalen what was wrong and maybe hug him. Which I think you’ll agree would be a real bad move at a time like this.
He staggered on a step near the front of the church. Pastor Linda rushed forward to help him.
I picked up my hymn book and threw it at Mr. Phalen. Real hard.
It hit him in the back of the head. He turned around and howled.
“
GGGRRRROOOOWWWWGGGHHHHH
!!!!” Something like that, anyway.
“What are you doing, Larry?” yelled my mom.
“Larry! What is wrong with you?” shouted Dad, which I figured would get him in trouble with Mom later.
Honor squealed.
I threw another hymn book. Hit Mr. Phalen on the nose.
I could have been a pitcher.
I could be in trouble.
Not just “grounded for a year” sort of In Trouble. I mean
zombie ambulance driver coming right at me
sort of In Trouble. Pastor Linda had her mouth open, but no words were coming out. Mr. Phalen had changed direction and was staggering back down the aisle toward me. Well, toward my whole family, plus the family in the row in front and the old lady ahead of them. We were all in a whole lot of trouble.
“
BRAIINNNSSS
!!!!”
I guess we knew what he wanted.
It was then that Francine Brabinsky got in
waaaay
more trouble than me.
You remember I told you she was strong?
Francine ran up to the piano and grabbed the stool. It’s like solid oak and real heavy. Normally Mrs. Andrews would be sitting on it, which would be a problem, but she was up in the balcony playing the organ, so that was okay for Francine (because you don’t want to shove Mrs. Andrews off her stool, even for a real good reason). Anyway, she picked up the stool by the legs and ran back down the aisle with it like it was a fire-ax. Mr. Phalen was pretty much busy with the lurching and the grabbing and the
howling, so he didn’t take any notice at all. The little old lady two rows ahead of us was hiding under her pew, and the family in front was just frozen in place.
ZOMBIE TIP
Chances are, no matter how much research you’ve done watching zombie movies, the first time someone smacks down a zombie right in front of you, you’ll feel queasy about the experience. This is totally normal. Don’t worry about it.
I was scrabbling around for another hymn book. “Take this!” said my mom. “Throw it good!”
I don’t understand parents. I was In Trouble for that just a minute ago.
But as I hauled back my arm to throw, Francine stepped up onto the pew behind Mr. Phalen and thwacked him over the head with the stool.
Knocked him flat.
Stretched out on the carpet.
Francine did a little victory dance, which I guess wasn’t right, being in church and all.
My mom fainted. Pastor Linda fainted. About half the people there fainted.
I’m not sure what happened next.
The car ride home was real quiet
, I can tell you that. Mom turned the radio to a station that plays Top Forty stuff, the kind she never listens to. Turned it up real loud. Some girl from a Disney show was complaining about her boyfriend. Dad gripped the wheel like it was gonna come off in his hands.
Honor smiled at me and squeezed my hand.
When we drove past the Midas Muffler, the homeless guy wasn’t eating out of the donut store dumpster. He was biting the man from Midas. I think that was what his overalls said, but there was too much blood on them to tell. Serious biting. Guess the homeless guy was a zombie all along. My bad first time round.