Read Online Z Children (Book 1): Awakening by Eli Constant, B.V. Barr - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eli Constant, B.V. Barr
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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her even more irritable over missing her field trip. I just don’t get why
they got sick this morning. We just had our yearly checkups yesterday and they
were fine last night. Izzy got several shots and sometimes those make her feel
poorly, but Sam and Mart weren’t due any this year.” The woman sighed heavily
and I could tell she was sorely in need of a nap.
“It’s no
problem, Deb. Grab a cup of coffee and sort through the racks. One shirt on the
house today.”
“Thanks, Sherry.
I’m sorry for rattling off like a lunatic. I love being a mother, but
sometimes…” Her voice trailed off, but her face said it all.
I nodded. “I
wouldn’t know from experience, but I imagine it can be a challenge at times.”
“A challenge,”
Deb scoffed. “Understatement of the century. Try having the flu while all three
of your kids have the flu and your husband is away at a convention.” She turned
away from me then and I nearly sighed in relief. Deb’s voice was both
high-pitched and nasal, a particularly grating combination.
I turned
my attention to the little boy, who was smiling (sort of), but still appeared a
bit green around the gills. “Let’s get you washed up and out of that shirt.
Okay?” Marty nodded at me and took my hand when I reached for his. He walked
with me toward the small bathroom reserved for customers and Deb began riffling
through the rack of boy’s shirts.
As I removed it
to keep vomit from getting in his hair, I thought he was going to be sick
again. I couldn’t blame him; the throw-up on his shirt smelled terrible… sour
milk and too-sweet cereal mixed with acidic bile. Marty’s cheeks puffed out and
his nostrils flared. I could see the panic in his face.
“Marty, do you
need to throw up again?”
The little boy
pointedly shook his head ‘no’ and swallowed hard; I could see the lump of
rebellious vomit slide back down his throat. “No, I’m okay.”
“Buddy, if
you’re feeling sick, you shouldn’t go to school. You need to tell your mom.”
“No, I’m okay. I
have to go to school today.”
“Why’s that?”
“It's
show-and-tell day and I’ve got Louie in the car. And we’re watching a movie
after recess. I really want to see it. It looks funny. And Louie said he wants
to see it too.”
“Louie will
understand that you’re not feeling well.”
“No, he won’t.
He’s not very nice.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Last
night, he pushed my dinner plate off the table and broke it. Mom got so mad.
Then he just laughed at me as I stood in the corner in time out.”
“Marty…” I
paused, wondering if I should push an impressionable child into realizing his
imaginary friend was just that, imaginary. “Maybe if Louie is mean, then he
really isn’t your friend.”
“No. He’s my
friend. He’s my best friend. And mom said I can’t get rid of him, because
Grandma gave him to me for Christmas.”
This puzzled me.
Imaginary friends- sure, I’d heard of those, but being gifted an imaginary
friend? Not so much. “What is Louie?”
“He’s my pet
dinosaur. He’s almost three feet tall. Grandma ordered him special.”
“Ah, well,
you’re pretty much cleaned up. Let’s bag up this shirt and see if your mom has
found a new one for you.”
As I turned away
from the boy to toss the wet and soiled paper towels into the trash, I frowned.
Strange kid. Nice kid… but strange. Marty held my hand again as we walked out
of the bathroom.
Sam and Izzy
were in the store now. If Marty looked a little under the weather, then Izzy
looked downright deathbed candidate. She was pale, her eyes glazed over with a
film that reminded me of the time Susan’s kids got pink eye. I remembered
helping her hold down Sophia as she rinsed the gunk from her eyes and applied
the medicated drops. Marcel, on the other hand, he was always a breeze, even
when he was super sick. Funny how twins could be so different. Same with Sam
and Marty. The only things similar about those two were the dark
they got sick this morning. We just had our yearly checkups yesterday and they
were fine last night. Izzy got several shots and sometimes those make her feel
poorly, but Sam and Mart weren’t due any this year.” The woman sighed heavily
and I could tell she was sorely in need of a nap.
“It’s no
problem, Deb. Grab a cup of coffee and sort through the racks. One shirt on the
house today.”
“Thanks, Sherry.
I’m sorry for rattling off like a lunatic. I love being a mother, but
sometimes…” Her voice trailed off, but her face said it all.
I nodded. “I
wouldn’t know from experience, but I imagine it can be a challenge at times.”
“A challenge,”
Deb scoffed. “Understatement of the century. Try having the flu while all three
of your kids have the flu and your husband is away at a convention.” She turned
away from me then and I nearly sighed in relief. Deb’s voice was both
high-pitched and nasal, a particularly grating combination.
I turned
my attention to the little boy, who was smiling (sort of), but still appeared a
bit green around the gills. “Let’s get you washed up and out of that shirt.
Okay?” Marty nodded at me and took my hand when I reached for his. He walked
with me toward the small bathroom reserved for customers and Deb began riffling
through the rack of boy’s shirts.
As I removed it
to keep vomit from getting in his hair, I thought he was going to be sick
again. I couldn’t blame him; the throw-up on his shirt smelled terrible… sour
milk and too-sweet cereal mixed with acidic bile. Marty’s cheeks puffed out and
his nostrils flared. I could see the panic in his face.
“Marty, do you
need to throw up again?”
The little boy
pointedly shook his head ‘no’ and swallowed hard; I could see the lump of
rebellious vomit slide back down his throat. “No, I’m okay.”
“Buddy, if
you’re feeling sick, you shouldn’t go to school. You need to tell your mom.”
“No, I’m okay. I
have to go to school today.”
“Why’s that?”
“It's
show-and-tell day and I’ve got Louie in the car. And we’re watching a movie
after recess. I really want to see it. It looks funny. And Louie said he wants
to see it too.”
“Louie will
understand that you’re not feeling well.”
“No, he won’t.
He’s not very nice.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Last
night, he pushed my dinner plate off the table and broke it. Mom got so mad.
Then he just laughed at me as I stood in the corner in time out.”
“Marty…” I
paused, wondering if I should push an impressionable child into realizing his
imaginary friend was just that, imaginary. “Maybe if Louie is mean, then he
really isn’t your friend.”
“No. He’s my
friend. He’s my best friend. And mom said I can’t get rid of him, because
Grandma gave him to me for Christmas.”
This puzzled me.
Imaginary friends- sure, I’d heard of those, but being gifted an imaginary
friend? Not so much. “What is Louie?”
“He’s my pet
dinosaur. He’s almost three feet tall. Grandma ordered him special.”
“Ah, well,
you’re pretty much cleaned up. Let’s bag up this shirt and see if your mom has
found a new one for you.”
As I turned away
from the boy to toss the wet and soiled paper towels into the trash, I frowned.
Strange kid. Nice kid… but strange. Marty held my hand again as we walked out
of the bathroom.
Sam and Izzy
were in the store now. If Marty looked a little under the weather, then Izzy
looked downright deathbed candidate. She was pale, her eyes glazed over with a
film that reminded me of the time Susan’s kids got pink eye. I remembered
helping her hold down Sophia as she rinsed the gunk from her eyes and applied
the medicated drops. Marcel, on the other hand, he was always a breeze, even
when he was super sick. Funny how twins could be so different. Same with Sam
and Marty. The only things similar about those two were the dark