5353I suddenly realize the hammering is only my heart,
beating out the rhythm.I turn up the volume in my head when I hear Stephen
say he can fly, wondering if a fall from the second floor
will kill him. The zombies cheer him on, “Fly away Mes-
siah, fly away.”I hear him scream when he hits the ground and I leave
the comfort of my sheet to look out the window. The
twisted bone that protrudes from his bloody leg is evi-
dence that he’s alive, because zombies are the walking
dead, and the dead don’t bleed. Go ask Alice.Stephen paces the floor, agitated and frothing at the
mouth. Choking, then gagging he makes his way to
the window and sticks his head out. I wait for his vomit
to spew. Instead, he spits. “Wow, man, did ya see that
green parrot?” he asks, his voice rising with excitement.
“It flew right out.” The other zombies stare in wonderment.
The loud, sudden hammering startles me. I fear the
cops are banging the door down or those drug dealers
have come for their money. Oh please, don’t let them ar-
rest us. Don’t let those druggies beat us up. Come home,
Mom. Please.
I hug my knees and pull them to my chin. Back and
forth, back and forth I rock, singing silently in my head
to ease my fear.
One pill makes you larger,
and one pill makes you small.
And the ones that mother gives you
don’t do anything at all.
Call Alice. When you’re ten-feet tall.