Zombiekins - Kevin Bolger [10]
Sophia frolicked out to the hall to get her coat. Lydia skipped into line at the door. Jack twirled into the hall on his tippy-toes. Big Tony bounded to the front of the class to get a skipping rope from the box of recess toys. Fiona and Kathleen pushed and shoved to grab the hardest bouncy ball to use for murderball. Felicity bashed Stanley’s head against his desk like she was trying to crack open a coconut.
“Stanley Nudelman,” Mr. Baldengrumpy barked impatiently from the back. “Stop fooling around and get ready for recess.”
Stanley tried to call to him for help, but all that came out was “Gack!” and “Hlp!”
“And don’t mumble,” Mr. Baldengrumpy scolded. “You really must learn to speak up.”
Stanley couldn’t breathe . . . . He felt himself starting to black out . . . .
But then the bell rang. As soon as it did, Felicity dropped Stanley to the floor and started lurching obediently out to recess.
Stanley lay on the floor, gasping and rubbing his throat.
“Hurry up, Stanley,” Mr. Baldengrumpy said gruffly. “You’ll never amount to anything in this world until you learn to walk quietly in a straight line with everybody else.”
14
“I’M TELLING YOU, SHE’S A ZOMBIE.”
“Stanley,” said Miranda, “you’ve always had a pretty wild imagination, but this time you’ve finally gone nuts. Zombies only exist in the movies.”
“Oh, yeah?” Stanley said. “Look at her. That’s all she’s been doing all recess.”
Normally Felicity liked to spend her recesses holding the duty teacher’s hand and tattling on kids who were breaking nitpicky safety rules like no climbing fences, no running up the slide, and no using the teeter-totter as a human catapult.
“She’s just being stuck up,” Miranda said.
“Okay, so what about Knuckles?” Stanley asked. “You should’ve heard him screaming.”
Stanley shuddered just remembering it.
“That only proves what I’ve been telling you all along—that he’s really just a big chicken baby,” Miranda said. “Look, Stanley, Zombiekins is just a toy. There’s no way it could actually hurt kids.”
“I know what I saw,” Stanley insisted. “There, look at her now—”
Felicity was lurching out onto the soccer pitch.
“So? Maybe she wants to play soccer.”
“And risk getting a speck of dirt on her pretty, pretty dress?” Stanley said. “You know how she feels about ‘perspiring.’ ”
“Okay, so maybe she is acting a little weird,” Miranda admitted. “But that still doesn’t make her a zombie.”
Someone booted the soccer ball and it drilled Felicity in the side of the head. She didn’t even flinch.
The kids stopped playing soccer and crowded around Felicity to ask if she was all right. But she just stood there, swaying slightly, without replying. Then she stooped over, picked up the soccer ball, and held it out in front of her as if she’d never seen anything like it before.
“See?” Stanley said. Even Miranda was starting to look doubtful.
Once the kids around Felicity realized she was okay, they started bugging her to give the ball back so they could get on with their game.
But Felicity just opened her mouth wide . . . and shoved the ball in!
15
FINALLY MIRANDA BELIEVED STANLEY.
“You keep Felicity out of trouble,” she told him on the way up to class. “And I’ll go check the girls’ bathroom for Zombiekins and Knuckles.”
“What do you mean, ‘Keep her out of trouble?’” Stanley said, looking over his shoulder in alarm. “She wants to eat me.”
Felicity was five places behind Stanley in line. When he turned to look back, she snarled, gnashed her teeth, and stretched a clutching hand out toward him. But fortunately she wouldn’t leave her place in line to get him.
“Stanley,” Miranda said, lowering her voice confidentially, “do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll be in if Mr. Baldengrumpy finds out your toy turned her into a zombie? You’ve got to keep her from doing anything to draw attention to her, uh, condition.”
And with that, Miranda ducked out of line and hurried up the stairs.
Just ahead