Zombiekins - Kevin Bolger [27]
“Not now, boy,” Stanley said. “I’m too busy to take you for a walk.”
He pushed Fetch aside and opened the door.
Fetch hid whining and whimpering under the bed as Stanley unlocked his closet with a key from under his pillow, lifted a metal box down from the top shelf, then opened it with another key he shook out of his piggy bank.
Inside the metal box was another box, all covered over with tape. As Stanley lifted it out, Fetch let out a pathetic yowl and scurried away into the hall dribbling a trail of pee.
Stanley was relieved to find Zombiekins still in its box. Of course, the instructions said it would remain a harmless stuffy as long as it wasn’t exposed to direct moonlight—but Stanley was not the kind of boy who liked taking chances. He fingered the taffy hanging from a string around his neck as he locked Zombiekins back up in the metal box in his closet. On his way out of the room, he tripped over an empty box by his bed, but didn’t think anything of it.
In the toy room down the hall, meanwhile, Rosalie was playing tea party with her favorite stuffies.
There was a chair for Benny the Dinosaur and another chair for his head. Whimsy was sitting in a pool of his own stuffing and Schlemmo, looking like he had been ripped apart and not-too-expertly put back together again, was propped up in a chair with ropes. While Rosalie pretended to pour the tea, one of Schlemmo’s arms fell off and plopped onto his saucer.
“Bad Schlemmo!” Rosalie scolded. “Elbows off the table.”
It was getting dark and the moon was climbing the sky outside the playroom window by the time Rosalie’s mother finally called her to bed. After that, it wasn’t long before Stanley and his family were all sound asleep—except for Fetch, who spent the night pacing the upstairs hall.
Outside, the night was still and the little town of Dementedyville was once again the quiet, uneventful place it always had been. The sort of place where nothing exciting or out of the ordinary ever happened. And now that Zombiekins was safely locked up in Stanley’s closet, that was how it would probably stay.
Probably....
KEVIN BOLGER lives in Ottawa, Canada. He was an elementary school teacher for ten years before he published Sir Fartsalot Hunts the Booger. Naturally he always wanted to write a book where all the kids got turned into zombies. (Sweet revenge!) He previously collaborated with Aaron Blecha on the internet cartoon “Sir Fartsalot vs the Dragon,” which can be seen at www.sirfartsalot.com.
AARON BLECHA was raised by a school of giant squids in Wisconsin and now lives with his wife in London, England. He works as an artist and animator, designing toys, making cartoons, and illustrating books, including the George Brown, Class Clown series. You can enjoy more of his twisted creations at www.monstersquid.com.
Thanks to Kristin Smith, Penguin book designer and honorary zombie, for her inspired page designs.
And to our editor, Jessica Rothenberg, for her infinite patience and unflagging support.
Like Zombiekins?
You won’t want to miss
“Don Quixote for nine-year-olds, filtered through Captain Underpants and Monty Python. . . . Entertaining and fun.”
—Quill and Quire
“Amazingly well-written chapter book that balances the silly with the story . . . . A winner and surefire entertainer.”
—Young Adult (and Kids) Books Central
“Kevin Bolger knows what young readers like. . . . Just the book to make boys eager to turn the page.”
—Ottawa Citizen