Zombies! Rising from the Dead (3 page)

We had planned this day for a while. It was simply a matter of everyone's schedule
lining up so that we could all get together. Rick, Amanda and Frankie and his wife were all
going to come over that day and have an old fashioned pool party. We were going to grill out

and
lounge by the pool, watch some baseball and just have a big time outdoors. Nothing to do,
nowhere to go, no busy city streets, no
malls or shopping centers and most of all no jobs to rush
off to, just a warm quiet day at home with good friends and good food
,
and I was very much
looking forward to it.

Being the hermit that I was, I was very particular about who I hanged out with, but a
select few had earned a place of tolerance in my heart, and those
very
select few I not only
tolerated but cared for quite deeply.

Frankie and the rest of the girls weren't due over for a few hours yet. Rick, my best
friend, had called to inform me in his own unique style that he was coming over to help get
things ready. “
I'm coming over....”
that was his unique way . . . simple, direct and to the point.
No room for debate.

I was off for three days and because of that I was in a particularly good mood. Rick was on what he called a “long-break” which was a full week off before he had to go back to
work
e
ssentially getting a
week’s vacation
every month). It was one of the many perks working
for a unionized factory, in this case a large paper mill nestled right outside Barkley.

I had just finished cleaning up the pool when Rick came walking down the hill around
to the back patio. His timing was perfect as I was just getting ready to run into town to go to the

store
to pick up some necessary supplies for our gathering.

“Hey man, what’s up!”
he said as he waved his arm and greeted me.

“Oh, hey,”
I brushed the sweat from my forehead.
“Nothing much just trying to get things cleaned and presentable, I
gotta
run up to the store you
wanna
go?”
I asked.

“Sure man, no problem.”
We piled in my truck and off we
w
ent.

Along the way we caught up on all the news and what each of us had been up to, but
nothing of particular consequence, just the usual fence post gossip.

We needed some last minute items and had no option other than going to Mark’s
Grocery, our town’s only grocery store. It was a pretty simple affair but also very expensive.
The old place had been there for years, much like everything else in Barkley. The building itself
had to be at least a hundred years old and it showed; gray buckled floor tiles and nasty, white
drop-ceiling panels which were yellowed and stained by years of roof leaks, leaks which were
not so much a matter of simple disrepair but more so outright neglect.

Sitting high atop the hill Mark's could be seen from all over town like the
lighthouses
of
old sitting high atop step cliffs providing a beacon to wayward ships in the night, and if nothing
else Mark's was a familiar sight.

We drove up the hill and parked in the first available parking spot we found.
We approached the entrance, pushing the doors
i
nward, the cool air and smell of produce
blasting us in the face, we pulled a shopping cart out of the stall and shopped the aisles trying
to determine what we needed for the
day’s
events. Wandering through we picked up all the usual
items paper cups, chips, charcoal, hamburger and hot dog buns as well as several two-liters of
soda, all while the squeaky, rusty wheels of the cart clacking against the cold

ceramic
tile...we
even picked up a small bag of fireworks that we had found sitting haphazardly on one of the
end isles; all the basics you needed for a little get together.

We made our way to the check out where Lisa, a girl from our old high school days was
hurriedly
checking people out. Lisa was a prime example of how the twists and turns of life can
lead us in strange directions.
Back in high school she was cream of the crop, skinny, attractive and part of the in-crowd. Fifteen years ago she wouldn't have given Rick or I the time of day, and it was just
assumed that after high school she would go on to do great things. As fate (as well as two ex-husbands and three kids later) would have it she found herself living back in Barkley working
for minimum wage at Mark's.
We talked to her for a while about old times. She bagged up our purchases, it was clear
that she was more than a bit embarrassed and humbled that now years later the tables had
turned, and she was now having to wait on two people that years previously she didn't even
know existed.

Rick and I harbored no ill will towards Lisa and we even took the time to invite her out
to join us for the festivities. She managed a smile and told us she would certainly think about
it.We
both knew that she wouldn't show up but it was still a nice gesture to make the offer.

After gathering our goods and saying goodbye to Lisa we loaded up the truck and
headed back to the house, along the way discussing how Lisa had fared and being grateful that
we had
s
omehow managed to do okay for ourselves, either by the grace of God or sheer dumb
luck.

We shortly arrived back home and started preparing. The sky was as clear and blue as
you could ask, with sparse cumulus clouds providing random shade from time to time and a
light breeze just strong enough to provide relief from the glaring eye of the mid-morning
sun.
The door on the back patio was propped open and the big screen television was blaring
in the background. Outside we had a portable radio going as well to keep us motivated while
we worked. Rick started setting up the table by throwing one of those cheap, crappy red and
white stripped plastic tablecloths over it. He sat all the food and drinks out, the first step in the
preparation of the feast and festivities that
awaited
. Meanwhile, I swept down the patio and

dragged
out a bulky
,
Styrofoam cooler. We loaded the cooler down with bags of ice and packed
it with drinks so they would be chilled by the time our guests arrived, it was going to be a great
day!

Around one o' clock things started to get going. It was just beginning to get hot which
made the crystal clear water in the pool
look all that more refreshing. The radio was blaring and
the grill was primed, and just hot enough that you could smell the slight, familiar hint of
charcoal starter and burning coals. With everything prepared, and nothing much more we
could do till everyone showed, Rick and I sat in the lounge chairs that we had pulled under
the shade of a tree and we enjoyed a cold beer, only the first of many that would be enjoyed
that day.

Rick's girl showed up first . . . Amanda. Amanda had curly jet black hair, fair skin with
light freckles dotting her rosy cheeks, and she wore thick, dark rimmed glasses which looked
somewhat out of sorts on her petite face yet gave her an attractive, brainy appearance; which
for her worked quite effectively. Amanda and Rick had been dating for a good three years
now and was a fine little catch.

Amanda, based on what Rick and told me, had a liver transplant as a child and she
very nearly died. He said she had to take a variety of pills
every day
to keep her immune system
up while at the same time preventing rejection. We counted them once, while she was away at
work, curiosity getting the better of us, and we counted no less than twelve different
medications. I never questioned what they all did, after all what business of mine was it? It was
probably a sensitive subject anyway and best to leave it alone.

Amanda came over, throwing her things down on the lawn furniture and gave Rick a
huge hug, exhaling deeply.

“Hey Bruce, how are you?”
she asked with a big smile on her face as she walked over.

“
Doin
' good,
doin
' good . . . pull up a chair...”
I said,
mo
tioning with my hand to the
empty chair next to us.

Amanda grabbed a drink from the cooler and joined us under the tree. We sat around the pool
sipping on drinks and talking about the events of the day. We relaxed while we waited for
everyone else to arrive.

I started grilling in anticipation that the rest of the party would arrive at any moment. We
sat there soaking up the warmth and the
s
un with the smell of the freshly grilling meats filling
our noses.
As we relaxed the announcer came over the radio with a quick two minute recap,
recounting the current temperature and local news events. Among the news there was mention
of a small meteorite
impacting an island somewhere in the South Pacific, wreaking havoc on
the region. It was an interesting occurrence to be sure and our ears were averted for a time. It
became quite the topic of conversation for a good while; but after twenty or thirty minutes it
was largely forgotten and we continued on with our day.

Frankie and his wife arrived at about
three;
his timing was excellent as I was just getting
the first batch of hamburgers and hotdogs off the grill. Everything looked great and seemingly
cooked to perfection indicated by the familiar, intersecting sear marks crisscrossing the meats,
just like in the TV commercials!

By now it was getting quite hot, I imagined it to be
s
omewhere in the mid-nineties, and
standing over a hot grill made it feel absolutely unbearable. I was the unofficial master chef,
which was perfectly fine with me after all it was my house. However it didn't stop Rick and
Frankie from randomly going over to “inspect” my work from time to time. I enjoyed grilling
out in the summer time!