leathery skin, or her knobby, root-like fingers. “I’ve been asking after you from the road! Why are you not talking? Why are you so rude? Why won’t you say anything? Why won’t you talk? Atlas? I’m so tired of these zombies, Jenga, I’m sick of it.”
Moving his eyes around behind his closed lids, Jenga let out another impatient groan. “I’m not answering,” he said, “because you won’t let me get a word in. And what business is it of yours what I do with my time? Zombies weren’t illegal last I checked the ordinances.”
“No,” Mary said. “No, they’re not, but theft is! Scaring people isn’t but horrifying drunks and taking their money is illegal, Jenga! Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m fed up with your smells and the smoke and the noises, I told the Alpha!”
Jenga’s drooping eyelids shot open. “You did what ? What did you tell him? I haven’t done anything.”
“I think I told him anyway. It might’ve been someone else. I think I told Leon, actually. Or maybe...”
“Mary!” Jenga shouted, grabbing the ancient woman’s shoulders. “Who did you tell what ?”
“That you were going to rob the bank again. Like you did last time. Only I’m not sure I told anyone about that. And if I did they hardly believe anything I say on account of... well, I’m not quite certain why no one believes me. It’s my birthday after all, but no one believes me.”
“So you told... Leon? About my plan? How did you know about it?” Jenga started pacing, nervously, along the back of his dilapidated couch.
She shrugged. “I didn’t, I made it up. The smell is so awful with whatever you do all the time that I made it up to get you in trouble. I figured you did it once so you’d probably try it again. Only thing I didn’t figure on is you doing it the exact same way. So I guess I was right after all.”
Before he really knew what he was doing, Jenga backed Mary to the front door and distracted her for long enough that she forgot what she was talking about. As soon as she began wandering down the path back to her tree house, Jenga closed the door, turned and rested his back against the aged oak.
“I think,” he took a deep breath as Atlas turned his head and stared. He even stared slowly. “That this just got a lot more complicated.”
-6-
––––––––
T he walk from my apartment to the courthouse, and then to my little office across from Erik’s took about ten minutes, but that afternoon it felt like ten hours.
My feet felt so heavy, that they matched my heart. I never thought this would happen, never in a million years. Everything was going so well, so perfectly, and I thought I’d finally gotten myself to a place with people who were just weird enough that I didn’t have to worry about who I was anymore.
But of course, who I was didn’t matter.
In the end, it was just what I was that was most important. Two years of making friends, making love, finding myself... all gone, and for what? Because I was born a human? Because I couldn’t turn into a peacock or a duck or, the way I felt right then, a jellyfish? I guess maybe I was blind or naive or something, because it came on so fast.
People joked of course about the human, about how I had to drive to get places and couldn’t fly, but I took them all as, well, jokes. Good natured ribbing.
And now I was supposed to believe it was all deep-seated anger at me for who I was?
I took the last turn around the long, slow slope of Maine Avenue, and stopped, staring at the front of the old Gothic-style courthouse. It was built sometime after the Civil War, Duggan told me once. The old one either burned down or got blown up in some kind of wizardry accident, but he thought it more likely that there was a kerosene spill.
The way this town went, I wasn’t so sure.
If the walk to the front of the courthouse felt like eternity, somehow turning the knob was even worse. An almost physical pain thumped into my chest when I put my key in
Moving his eyes around behind his closed lids, Jenga let out another impatient groan. “I’m not answering,” he said, “because you won’t let me get a word in. And what business is it of yours what I do with my time? Zombies weren’t illegal last I checked the ordinances.”
“No,” Mary said. “No, they’re not, but theft is! Scaring people isn’t but horrifying drunks and taking their money is illegal, Jenga! Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m fed up with your smells and the smoke and the noises, I told the Alpha!”
Jenga’s drooping eyelids shot open. “You did what ? What did you tell him? I haven’t done anything.”
“I think I told him anyway. It might’ve been someone else. I think I told Leon, actually. Or maybe...”
“Mary!” Jenga shouted, grabbing the ancient woman’s shoulders. “Who did you tell what ?”
“That you were going to rob the bank again. Like you did last time. Only I’m not sure I told anyone about that. And if I did they hardly believe anything I say on account of... well, I’m not quite certain why no one believes me. It’s my birthday after all, but no one believes me.”
“So you told... Leon? About my plan? How did you know about it?” Jenga started pacing, nervously, along the back of his dilapidated couch.
She shrugged. “I didn’t, I made it up. The smell is so awful with whatever you do all the time that I made it up to get you in trouble. I figured you did it once so you’d probably try it again. Only thing I didn’t figure on is you doing it the exact same way. So I guess I was right after all.”
Before he really knew what he was doing, Jenga backed Mary to the front door and distracted her for long enough that she forgot what she was talking about. As soon as she began wandering down the path back to her tree house, Jenga closed the door, turned and rested his back against the aged oak.
“I think,” he took a deep breath as Atlas turned his head and stared. He even stared slowly. “That this just got a lot more complicated.”
-6-
––––––––
T he walk from my apartment to the courthouse, and then to my little office across from Erik’s took about ten minutes, but that afternoon it felt like ten hours.
My feet felt so heavy, that they matched my heart. I never thought this would happen, never in a million years. Everything was going so well, so perfectly, and I thought I’d finally gotten myself to a place with people who were just weird enough that I didn’t have to worry about who I was anymore.
But of course, who I was didn’t matter.
In the end, it was just what I was that was most important. Two years of making friends, making love, finding myself... all gone, and for what? Because I was born a human? Because I couldn’t turn into a peacock or a duck or, the way I felt right then, a jellyfish? I guess maybe I was blind or naive or something, because it came on so fast.
People joked of course about the human, about how I had to drive to get places and couldn’t fly, but I took them all as, well, jokes. Good natured ribbing.
And now I was supposed to believe it was all deep-seated anger at me for who I was?
I took the last turn around the long, slow slope of Maine Avenue, and stopped, staring at the front of the old Gothic-style courthouse. It was built sometime after the Civil War, Duggan told me once. The old one either burned down or got blown up in some kind of wizardry accident, but he thought it more likely that there was a kerosene spill.
The way this town went, I wasn’t so sure.
If the walk to the front of the courthouse felt like eternity, somehow turning the knob was even worse. An almost physical pain thumped into my chest when I put my key in
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