Zombiekins - Kevin Bolger [11]
“Ewwww!” screamed Big Tony. “Get it away from me!”
Fiona giggled and, with Kathleen egging her on, flung the worm at Big Tony. It stuck to the front of his shirt. He let out a piercing shriek, then danced and squirmed and slapped at his clothes like someone on fire until the worm finally shook loose and dropped onto the stair.
Fiona and Kathleen doubled over laughing. The rest of the line just kept trudging up the stairs.
Except Felicity. When she came to the worm, she stopped and pounced on it . . . . She rose up, holding it out in front of her... then popped it into her mouth and swallowed!
The line stopped and the noisy stairwell fell silent. Everyone stared at Felicity. Big Tony put his hand over his mouth like he was going to be sick.
It was a tense moment. Stanley knew he had to do something to cover up before his classmates started to get suspicious.
“Uh, three-second rule?” he shrugged.
The other kids looked at him as if he was mental. Except for Fiona and Kathleen, who just nodded their heads and stared at Felicity with surprised admiration.
“Cool,” said Kathleen.
16
ONCE THEY REACHED THE TOP FLOOR, THE LINE broke up, and kids scattered off in all directions to their cubbies. Felicity came shuffling after Stanley, lurching slowly and stiffly like . . . well, like a zombie. . . .
He barely had time to dig his homework out of his knapsack, check that his mom had signed it, change into his indoor shoes, tie them in double knots, zip up his bag, open it again to grab a pencil from his pencil case, close it again, and narrowly escape before Felicity reached him.
Stanley took his seat inside the classroom and Felicity came staggering straight toward him, barging between the desks instead of taking the aisles. That’s when Stanley realized he had a BIG problem: No matter how slow-moving Felicity was, as long as he stayed put she’d eventually catch him. But he couldn’t run away without getting in trouble for being out of his desk.
Felicity kept lumbering in his direction . . . gnashing her teeth . . . clawing the air . . . .
Soon she was just a few lurches away . . . .
Stanley weighed his options: Mauled by a zombie? Or yelled at by his teacher?
He shrunk down as small as he could make himself at his desk. He decided he was more afraid of Mr. Baldengrumpy.
The next moment, Felicity was hovering right over him and Stanley was leaning way, way back to avoid the clutching hands that stretched . . . toward . . . his . . . neck . . . .
“Okay, class,” Mr. Baldengrumpy droned. “Take your seats.”
Felicity stopped and stiffened; her grip was cold as stone around Stanley’s throat.
She unclenched his neck, shuffled ahead, and thumped down in her chair. As soon as she was seated, she swiveled her head around to hiss and bare her teeth at Stanley.
“Who would like to hand out the books?” Mr. Baldengrumpy asked.
Felicity’s head swiveled to the front again. Her arm shot into the air, stiff and grasping, like a hand reaching up out of a freshly dug grave.
“Mrmmrngmrmarnnnnn . . . ” she moaned loudly.
“Thank you, Felicity,” said Mr. Baldengrumpy, setting the books down on her desk.
17
ELSEWHERE IN THE SCHOOL, IT WAS CENTER TIME downstairs in Ms. Mellow’s kindergarten and the classroom was bustling with non-gender-specific role-playing activities. Little girls in red firefighter hats were tearing around making siren noises, filling buckets at the Water Station and splashing them on a pretend fire at the Computer Station. Little boys were at the Craft Table, eating crayons and glue. In the Playhouse, one boy was pretending to be the kind of daddy who liked to wear an apron and bake mud pies, while the girl he was playing with was pretending to be the kind of mommy who liked to throw dishes and yell at you to get a job.
And in the middle of the busy room, one child stood all by himself, picking his nose with intense concentration.
In the sandbox, a little girl with pigtails was trying to soothe a little boy who was crying.