\n
Kendra and I hadn\u2019t been to the movies in forever. The cinema was closed for renovations all spring and then we were away for most of the summer, because of the heat. The heat makes the smell intolerable.<\/p>\n
Kendra, vibrating, wanted to see the new cartoon movie about dogs. But when we arrived, the zombie selling the tickets shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cShowwy,\u201d the zombie said. He looked young to be a zombie. Mid-forties.<\/p>\n
Kendra\u2019s exuberance waned. \u201cYou mean it\u2019s sold out?\u201d She looked at the zombie like he\u2019d zombie-puked all over us.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo worries, man. What else is playing?\u201d I asked. I smiled, too, because, hey, the zombie used to be a person.<\/p>\n
A giant screen behind the zombie listed the movies and their showtimes. The zombie pointed to it, which means he swung his torso and used centrifugal force to propel one arm into the air to slap the screen.<\/p>\n
Kendra squinted through the new armored plastic window. The window was part of the renovations. \u201cThat whale movie\u2019s playing in twenty minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shrugged. \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cActually, no.\u201d<\/p>\n
I tried to make eye contact with the zombie, though one of his eyeballs dangled by its optical nerve. The other was steady enough. \u201cDo you recommend anything?\u201d I gave him a good-natured grin to show I was half joking but including him in on the joke.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus, Joe,\u201d Kendra muttered.<\/p>\n
\u00a0My grin faded. Unless the renovations didn\u2019t include specified theaters where the zombies could watch movies? I didn\u2019t know. I smiled again, to show that whether or not the zombie had an opinion was fine with me.<\/p>\n
The zombie, who I didn\u2019t think could blink, blinked his good eye.<\/p>\n
Kendra pointed. \u201cLove Pentangle is playing soon.\u201d She raised two fingers. \u201cTwo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease,\u201d I added.<\/p>\n
The zombie heaved an arm to key in our order.<\/p>\n
\u201cFroosch?\u201d he asked. His lips were unconcatenated, making articulation difficult. His good eye was dull, the skin around it greenish and peeling back. The pupil on the dangling eye jerked around, never settling. His breath, wherever it came from, made rainbows on his side of the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cPopcorn,\u201d I said, before Kendra could say no. \u201cA large diet soda. And a packet of ice cream dots?\u201d I glanced at Kendra, who refused to nod. \u201cAnd ice cream dots.\u201d<\/p>\n
It took the zombie a few moments to key in the whole order. People lining up behind us\u00a0 exhaled loudly.<\/p>\n
I looked backwards and shrugged at them. \u201cSorry.\u201d I lowered my voice and jerked a thumb at the plastic window. \u201cI think he\u2019s new.\u201d<\/p>\n
Behind me, the zombie said something.<\/p>\n
I turned, pulling out my wallet. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, how much did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n
The zombie\u2019s eye rattled. \u201cNosh no,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I glanced at Kendra. Her left eyebrow lifted a tiny amount. It was an involuntary movement, one that meant she was irritated. And feeling deeply judgemental.<\/p>\n
I leaned forward, broadening my smile. \u201cSorry, bud, I didn\u2019t catch that?\u201d<\/p>\n
The zombie\u2019s mouth opened wide. His teeth were brown as bark. \u201cAhm,\u201d he said slowly. \u201cNotch noo.\u201d If zombies could shout, this one would\u2019ve been shouting. He swung his torso, but his arms didn\u2019t move. He pressed his grassy lips together like he was trying to access the force, or self-implode. The effort cracked some skin in his cheek. My guts lava-lamped inside the living, juicy tissues of my torso. \u201cAhm majaja.\u201d The zombie lurched and his right arm hit his chest below his name tag. Tom, it read, Manager.<\/p>\n
\u201cTom,\u201d I said. \u201cOh, hey.\u201d I looked at Kendra, nodding. \u201cThat\u2019s Tom, the Manager. You remember? He gave us free popcorn on Talk Like a Pirate Day last year.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kendra neither blinked nor spoke. A beefy guy behind us coughed loudly.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u201cAnyway, doesn\u2019t matter. Tom. Cool. How are you?\u201d Jesus. Stupid question. \u201cAnywho, I didn\u2019t know you\u2014\u201d I nodded towards his decaying midsection, \u201cwere, yeah. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom nodded or shrugged or both. Since his whole torso was involved, I couldn\u2019t differentiate. \u201cShanser,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Cancer.<\/p>\n
\u201cShoot, man. That sucks. Terminal?\u201d I was mortifying myself. \u201cAnyway, cool.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom bumped a low button with his hip and our total appeared in the plastic window with\u00a0 \u201ctap to pay\u201d illuminated.<\/p>\n
\u201cCool,\u201d I said again, which made Kendra pull the hair back from her scalp. Waiting for my card to be approved, I kept talking. \u201cAlso cool that you caught it in time\u2014to transform, I mean.\u201d That\u2019s what the medical world was calling the zombie route, \u201cThe Transformation.\u201d They\u2019d started with \u201cEternal Life!\u201d but when the results were so putrid, they\u2019d been sued into less propitious verbiage. \u201cAt least you get to keep the movie theater gig going, man. That\u2019s great.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom heave-shrugged while our tickets printed out on our side of the glass. He said something that sounded like, \u201cPaysz the billsz.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kendra tore off our tickets and gave Tom a thin-lipped nod. I muscled a smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cCool. Thanks a lot, man.\u201d I turned to go, but glanced back. \u201cAnd good to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom didn\u2019t react. The next movie-goer was already asking for whale movie tickets in a near-shout as he coughed wetly into his elbow.<\/p>\n
\u201cGlad mucus dude\u2019s not with us,\u201d Kendra said, dry-retching.<\/p>\n
Inside, we collected our popcorn and treats from the counter. A teenage human employee, short with knobbly elbows and a half-shaved haircut, studied an enormous cell phone from his lean behind the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks,\u201d I said to him, indicating the popcorn.<\/p>\n
The kid looked up. \u201cHuh? Oh, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s no zombie dust in it, is there?\u201d Kendra asked. There was a coy grimace in her voice. \u201cNo rotten fingernails, or skin flakes, or anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
The kid laughed. He glanced over at Tom, whose armored window box surrounded him on all six sides. The box appeared to lock from the outside.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, he stays in there,\u201d the kid said. \u201cDon\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kendra pretend-retched again. \u201cCrazy that he\u2019s working so close to the public.\u201d<\/p>\n
Most zombies worked in locked offices. Not that the transformation was catching\u2014it wasn\u2019t, not even by direct contact, but the danger was real. Because of what zombies ate. Usually, food was shipped to them in vacuum-packed bags, and that satiated their drives, but humans still had to be careful. One could get hungry at the wrong time.<\/p>\n
Still, the zombies had to work. Vacuum-packed meals were pricey. Let alone whatever debt the transformation itself incurred. Computer work and mid-management jobs were often a good fit both physically and mentally, and companies had been making more and more accommodations for zombies in satellite workplaces. I had two zombie coworkers I video-conferenced with regularly. They were dynamite colleagues. Killer with spreadsheets.<\/p>\n
But a zombie in a movie theater, that was new.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, it\u2019s something having him right here,\u201d the concessions kid was saying. \u201cBut that booth is tight. Triple locked, bullet proof glass, the whole nine. Nothing\u2019s coming out.\u201d He finger-gunned down the booth.<\/p>\n
I frowned. \u201cIt\u2019s great he\u2019s still the manager.\u201d<\/p>\n
The kid\u2019s forehead wrinkled. \u201cWho? Tom?\u201d He shook his head. \u201cNo. Technically, maybe he owns the place. But really he\u2019s just the ticket guy.\u201d A new concession order appeared on a monitor and the kid grabbed a popcorn bucket.<\/p>\n
Next to me, Kendra checked her smart watch.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut he said he\u2019s the manager,\u201d I said. Not rudely, just friendly-informative.<\/p>\n
Kendra nudged me with her hip. \u201cFour minutes, babe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEh,\u201d the kid said. He set the next customer\u2019s popcorn-and-beer order on the counter. \u201cTom mans the booth. I mean, it\u2019s cool his wife paid for all the zombie upgrades, but, yeah. At the end of the day, he\u2019s just a kinda-dead dude sitting in a box.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced towards Tom but couldn\u2019t tell if he\u2019d overheard. I shook my head at the kid, just in case.<\/p>\n
\u201cTotally,\u201d Kendra said. She looped her arm around mine. \u201cI don\u2019t want to miss the previews.\u201d<\/p>\n
I resisted her tug. \u201cWe\u2019ll all be there someday. Transformed.\u201d<\/p>\n
The kid gagged. \u201cNot me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight?\u201d Kendra said. \u201cI\u2019d rather be dead.\u201d<\/p>\n
She sounded so young. I squeezed her elbow. \u201cYou never know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kendra sighed.<\/p>\n
Not that I was much older than her. But at least I was thinking things through. No grown-up wants to die. I turned to the kid. \u201cWhat happens if there\u2019s a fire?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked from Kendra to me. \u201cA fire?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTom. He\u2019s locked in there. What happens during a fire?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUh,\u201d said the kid.<\/p>\n
\u201cBabe,\u201d said Kendra.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you unlock him? Does anyone?\u201d<\/p>\n
The kid opened and closed his mouth. \u201cThe locks were the county\u2019s requirement, man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course. I hear you. But what does the county say to do in the event of a fire?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBabe. Seriously. Who even cares.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u201cDoes he burn?\u201d<\/p>\n
The kid held up his hands. \u201cDude, that\u2019s fire protocol. We leave, we give the code to the fire guys, they unlock him remotely.\u201d<\/p>\n
Customers came in, collected their food. They nodded thanks to the kid.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich way\u2019s theater six?\u201d the mucousy guy asked.<\/p>\n
The kid nodded about eight times. \u201cTo the right, down the hall, third door.\u201d He turned back to Kendra and me. \u201cYou know where your theater\u2019s at?\u201d<\/p>\n
I tried to think of a juicy rejoinder, but by the time I thought of \u201cYou know where your ethics are at?\u201d Kendra had already pulled me down the hall and into theater two, where the previews were about to start.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh my god, this is my favorite part.\u201d Kendra sat us in the center row. The lighting was already dark. I\u2019d missed this, the soft seats, the theater, the snacks. I put my feet up. When the first preview flickered on screen, I caught sight of a row of robust plastic boxes lining the wall. Four of them, secured up high like box seats in real theaters. Of the four plastic boxes, three were empty. In the fourth sat two women. Zombies, from the looks of it. Friends. Dead-eyed and unmoving. One had wide, blue-red lips. The other had missing patches of skin. Frost prickled through me.<\/p>\n
Kendra grabbed a handful of my popcorn and leaned against me. \u201cI\u2019m so glad we\u2019re doing this. I love movies.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shifted. There had to be a special zombie entrance. A zombie hallway. A whole zombie route. It stood to reason. Plenty of zombies could have been independently wealthy when they were alive. Even those that worked had downtime. I\u2019d never wondered what zombies did in their free time.<\/p>\n
I watched the previews. They all looked infantile.<\/p>\n
I imagined Tom outside in his box, selling tickets. Thought of the zombie ladies in their box, watching the screen. Not blinking.<\/p>\n
I snuck a quick look. One, the one with the blue lips, looked like she was smiling. Those lips were more intact than Tom\u2019s. Fuller. Or her cheek was still in rigor mortis, I didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n
That concessions kid was an asshole.<\/p>\n
The backs of the zombie boxes each had the outline of a door. No handles on the inside. Perhaps they functioned on a remote locking system silimar to Tom\u2019s.<\/p>\n
What would happen in an earthquake, I wondered. What would happen to those nice zombie lady friends who just wanted a night out?<\/p>\n
One of the zombies up there reached into a bucket and lifted something to her rich lips. It wasn\u2019t popcorn. My stomach seized.<\/p>\n
At my side, Kendra dug into my bucket.<\/p>\n
The zombie with the lips offered her snacks to her companion, who shook her head, face extra-contorted. For the first time, I wondered how freeze-dried entrails tasted. I\u2019d read the mix was originally only seventy percent mammalian. I wondered if somebody had ever solved the supply issues.<\/p>\n
The movie had a complicated plot where neurotic characters tried setting one another up at various restaurants and art museums. After forty-five minutes, I forgot which pink-lipped character I was rooting for. My eyes ached.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be right back,\u201d I whispered to Kendra. She nodded.<\/p>\n
I wanted to pee, but I couldn\u2019t get any out. I washed my hands anyway. There were no plastic protective boxes in the men\u2019s room, just the regular stalls. Either zombies had a separate bathroom or zombies never had to pee. I retreated to the hallway, where I searched for signs of renovation, for an understanding of how those zombie ladies accessed the theater. But the hallway had the same decades-old sound-dampening walls, electric-blue-and-stars floor-to-ceiling carpeting that had always been there. If the zombies had their own hallway, it was separate from the humans\u2019.<\/p>\n
Shouldn\u2019t someone know where it was? What if a terrorist came in with a bomb and gave everyone ten seconds to clear out? What if the zombies were locked in? Shouldn\u2019t someone be able to help them? Shouldn\u2019t everyone who goes to a movie know that they\u2019re safe? Even zombies?<\/p>\n
\n
The fire alarm pull was halfway down the hall. I reached it in seconds. Kendra would kill me if I touched it. She hated interruptions.<\/p>\n
I touched it. It didn\u2019t immediately alarm. I pulled a white lever down, pushed the top button. It was surprisingly easy.<\/p>\n
The buzzing, shrieking noise rang out. Strobe lights flashed.<\/p>\n
I raced to the lobby. I was the first one there. The concession kid was gone. In the booth flailed Tom, struggling to his feet. Waiting to thank me.<\/p>\n
I crossed the lobby. No other movie goers, including Kendra, had exited the theaters yet.<\/p>\n
\u201cMisha fusha,\u201d Tom was saying. He was kicking the box. His face was wrenched in distorted fury.<\/p>\n
He couldn\u2019t get out. He was caught. I ran towards the box.<\/p>\n
Tom was snarling through torn lips. His flat eyes landed on me and he stilled.<\/p>\n
\u201cTom!\u201d I said, triumphant.<\/p>\n
He crouched like a panther. I had no idea he was that nimble.<\/p>\n
\u201cYush didsh zhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? I pulled it, yeah. Tom, I\u2019m going to get you out.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom threw himself against the plastic box.<\/p>\n
\u201cShurns a yoff!\u201d he yelled, head-butting the plastic.<\/p>\n
\u201cTom.\u201d I held up my hands, the universal \u201cbe cool\u201d sign. \u201cOnce it\u2019s on it\u2019s on. The fire department has to turn it off.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tom rammed his box again. \u201cAhm shoings choo kish yush.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe Tom was grateful. But from the way he was throwing his arms at the box\u2014the way the box was creaking\u2014I didn\u2019t think he had said \u201cI\u2019m going to kiss you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy bishnesh!\u201d Tom yelled it, over and over.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t realize zombies were so materialistic. Tom\u2019s box groaned loudly.<\/p>\n
I ran. Down the hall, not out the front doors. I told myself it was so I could help Kendra, but then I sailed past theater two. It was Tom I had to worry about. Because he was going to get out of that box, and he was going to eat my brains. I past a stream of exiting humans. I ducked into an empty movie theater and kept running, down the aisle, past the giant white movie screen. I found a side door tucked into the shadows, where emergency exits usually are in theaters, and I slipped through it, thinking it might take me outside. It didn\u2019t. I was in a dark stairwell. \u201cNo Exit,\u201d a brand new, shiny sign read. \u201cEnter at your own risk.\u201d The stairs took me up to a hallway, off of which were projection booths and\u2014<\/p>\n
Inside one of the booths was a zombie.<\/p>\n
Inside all the projection booths was a zombie.<\/p>\n
More zombies\u2014movie-goer zombies\u2014started exiting their movie-watching boxes. Someone must have unlocked them. They filed out, moving past me. I\u00a0 pressed my back against the wall and shut my eyes. Tried not to smell delicious.<\/p>\n
\u201cLootha tha,\u201d a voice said.<\/p>\n
I peeked through my lashes. It was one of the zombie ladies, talking to the other.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe guy who wash shtaring durinjh the movie.\u201d The other zombie, the one with the beautiful lips, moved closer to me. Her zombie stench was horrendous. Old chicken, rotten fish, slimy lettuce, burnt honeysuckle. I gagged.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe doesna like ush,” the first zombie said. Her words were slurred, like Tom\u2019s but not as bad. Her transformation seemed to have gone smoother.<\/p>\n
\u201cShould we eat his gonads?\u201d asked the second, the one who was right in front of me. The one who smelled like sauteed garbage.<\/p>\n
I shook my head. No, please don\u2019t.<\/p>\n
\u201cEwck,\u201d her friend dry heaved.\u00a0 \u201cNosh.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I\u2019m here to help.\u201d The words churned out of me. I pressed backwards on the wall. I thought of Kendra. I could have married her. \u201cIt\u2019s just\u2014\u201d I said. The zombie pressed closer. I flinched to the side. \u201cI\u2019m not bad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBad.\u201d My zombie opened her mouth, wide. Inside, her teeth were gunmetal gray. \u201cWho is?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her tongue was lolling, a wet rat of decay. A sinewy beast. Those beautiful lips. I could smell them. I could almost touch them.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Kendra and I hadn\u2019t been to the movies in forever. The cinema was closed for renovations all spring and then we were away for most of the summer, because of the heat. The heat makes the smell intolerable. Kendra, vibrating, wanted to see the new cartoon movie about dogs. But when we arrived, the zombie […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2331,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[86],"tags":[20],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-57H","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19697"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2331"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19697"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19697\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19698,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19697\/revisions\/19698"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19697"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19697"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19697"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}