Girl Z: My Life As A Teenage Zombie (6 page)

“Then-then I'll really be okay?”

“You should be fine. You have nothing to worry about. You're doing well. Now, chin up. I don't want to hear any more blubbering, you hear?”

My feelings hurt a bit at her harshness, but I knew she was right. I breathed deep and let the anxiety out in a loud exhale. “Yes. Can I take a shower?”

She checked her watch and peeked out the door. “Doctor's in the hall. When he's done, you can shower and get dressed. You can leave with your family if the doctor has no objections.”

The doctor's visit was brief. He asked a few questions and took in every answer, making me feel like a microscope slide before he gave me some cautions and a final warning that things could change at any time (
I couldn't think of that)
and left.

I jumped off the bed where I'd been seated and clapped my hands together. I did a happy dance around the room. Okay, I felt a tiny bit wobbly. A happy shuffle instead.

“Yay, going home, going home, I'm going home!”

Of course, it wasn't a matter of my simply going out the door like nothing had happened. It took a little planning. After I showered and dressed, the nurses helped me apply some camouflage makeup made for burn victims. It helped temporarily even out my complexion and erase the gray, kind of like a Miss Clairol for skin.

Even better, Nurse Teapot gave me the name of a website by a woman who'd developed a special makeup for “Girls Like Us.” Good name, though I wondered if she'd considered calling it “Ghouls Like Us” or was I the only one with the sick sense of humor? I chuckled, my mood vastly improved since I was finally leaving here.

Home! I was going home!

I hugged the nursing staff, especially Nurse Teapot, and told them I'd come back and let everyone know how things went. Sounds weird, I know, but I was going to miss them. Then I slipped on my hoodie, pulled it forward to shade my face, and stuck my hands in my pockets.

Carm stayed at my side as the nurse pushed me in a wheelchair which she insisted I had to use. At the door, Carm quickly latched onto my arm and pulled me outside to the cab my aunt had waiting at the curb. The driver, an older Indian man with sun-darkened skin and a shock of unruly ink-black hair, barely glanced at me as he jerked the car into the turn lane. “Vere to?” he asked.

Carm's expression started me giggling. It was bad of us to laugh, we knew, but it was good to hear someone else who sounded worse than I still did at times.

Tia
gave my arm a squeeze and put on the pleased expression she usually wore after finding a great bargain at a yard sale. She gave the address and leaned back in her seat. “Sweetie, I'm so happy you're coming home. I made you some tamales and…” Her voice faded. A sad expression came over her face as she glanced at me and patted my knee. “Oh, honey,
lo siento.
Forgive me,
por favor.
I wasn't thinking.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. My aunt loved to cook. I couldn't bear to spoil her one joy in life. “
Tia
,
no problema
, okay? Carm will eat enough for both of us. Freeze a little bit for me. I'll try them on
Sabado
. You know I love your tamales.”

The thought of my aunt's delicious tamales stuffed with spicy chicken and covered with hot salsa and stringy, gooey, melted cheese made me feel like I could almost taste them. Saturday loomed ahead like a culinary Mecca. It was the first day I was supposed to feel hungry again and could eat lots of real protein instead of mostly the liquid kind.

Oh, what I'd give to eat real food again!

So far, at least for the moment, I wasn't at all hungry. Whatever it was that had changed with my new condition had about killed my taste buds. Right now, even a stick of gum tasted like chewing on a piece of cardboard. Not worth it, but that didn't mean I didn't want it. Would I ever
taste
food again?

The whole food thing prompted a whirlwind of more questions: when I woke up on Saturday, the day I was supposed to eat as much raw protein as I wanted, would I go crazy like before?

Would I get sick if I ate anything other than the prescribed raw fish or chicken, like a tamale? But why? The meat was still a protein, right? What difference would cooking make, I wondered?

Would it really matter what I ate? The dietician had stressed a raw diet but…maybe I'd experiment, see what would happen…

Carm glanced at me. “What're you smiling about?”

A giggle escaped. “Nothing. Everything. Food for thought.”

I'd noticed that more of my senses, and most importantly, my sense of humor, had returned to near-normal. The exception was my eyesight. I still had trouble with my one eye. The idea of wearing glasses didn't thrill me, either, but I might not have much choice. So many changes. I wasn't about to dwell on it, at least for now.

Carm apologized, her face turning a beautiful shade of red as her stomach let out a loud gurgle. I smirked at her. It wasn't her fault. To be honest, I was surprised my stomach didn't growl, too. Even if I wasn't hungry, my mind refused to get past one thing: a fresh tamale.

My head against my aunt's arm, I worked on calming myself.

Relax. Breathe.

I didn't want my aunt to feel worse than she already did, so I tried to fixate on something else. My thoughts pinged back to the idea of noshing on Saturday.

It had to work.

Not being able to eat any of my favorite foods (like tamales and chocolate) would be the worst, most unfair thing of all the changes I'd experienced, besides the obvious, of course.

My mood grew darker and harder to shake as the cab bounced down Sheridan to Main. It wasn't hard to do since the man drove like he was on an obstacle course. Every few minutes he twisted the car around on one side or the other to escape a pothole, a squirrel, or even a crack in the pavement.

Carm and I glanced at each other and found it hard to keep the giggles inside. Thank God for my cousin. Soon, the three of us were laughing and giggling as we bounced from side to side.

It felt good, normal, almost like nothing had happened, though one look around told me how different things had become. Multiple sirens shrieked in the distance as police and sheriff's cars sped to another disaster. Our route was clear, but I knew from what I'd seen on the TV that the next street could be filled with debris or blocked off. The sight of several Guardsmen standing on corners, armed and ready, made me gulp nervously.

The changes became more noticeable as the cab spun around the side street and pulled up in front of our white ranch house, the sidewalk lined with pots of bright red geraniums, the long porch decorated with a white wicker couch, several white chairs and coordinating cheery red pillows. Everything (
except me)
looked normal here
.

Careful to keep my face shielded, I stepped out and waited as my aunt paid the cabbie. He stared at us before taking off with a squeal of tires. The street was empty, no one about except for a few neighbors who peeked out their door or through their curtains. Probably trying to sneak a peek at the neighborhood freak, I mused. I forgot how fast word spread in a small neighborhood like ours.

I glanced at my cousin, her face so pinched with worry, she reminded me of one of those carved apple-head dolls I'd seen at a museum. “Hey, Carm, your mom ever tell you your face is going to stay that way?”

She frowned and gave me an angry glare, only making it worse. “What're you talking about?”

“What're you so bothered about?”

“What do you think?” She snapped and glanced at the houses next to us. “Everybody's peeking out the door, gawking at you like you're some freak.”

“News flash, cuz. The new me. It's what I am. Don't worry. Word's gotten around, I'm sure. They'll be snooping around soon, coming over to borrow some sugar from
Tia
or a cup of
masa
, or flour, or something just to see if I've grown another head.”

The idea made me snicker. Laugh or I knew I'd cry.

“There's nothing to laugh about, Bec.”

“C'mon, Carm. Think of the fun we could have. Can you imagine how fast they'd run out of here if I did have another head? You know, put one of your mom's wigs under my sweater and attach it to my shoulder?”

I watched as she thought about it and began to giggle. “You wouldn't…yeah, it would be pretty funny.”

My mood felt much better once we went inside. I bent down to pet our white cat, Crystal, which endured a touch from me before running after Auntie with a loud meow, my aunt equaling food, of course.

“
Tia,
we'll be upstairs,” I called, motioning Carm to follow me to my room.

“All right, honey. Lunch in ten minutes. Becca, don't worry, honey, I'll fix you up, too.”

“
Gracias, Tia.
”

Once out of her hearing, I couldn't resist mumbling, “Yum, juice, boy, oh, boy. I can't wait!”

The door squeaked out a welcome as Carm and I shoved our way into my small, cozy room nestled under the staircase. I could've had one of the bigger bedrooms, but I enjoyed feeling like the princess in the tower.

The room was big enough for my twin trundle bed, a dresser, my grandmother's antique white wicker vanity table and a set of bookshelves filled with some grade school trophies and a few of my dad's old albums. Extra clothes hung on hooks and on a bar hanging from the ceiling in one corner. My tiny closet bulged with more clothes and boxes.

My favorite
Dia de los Muertos
figures covered a shelf and the top of my dresser like a macabre circus. My mom and aunt had dressed me and my cousin in pretty ruffled dresses for church when we were little, but I didn't pay much attention to the traditions when I got older. What I liked were the colors and the poses in the little scenes. The little skeletons always made me feel better for some reason.

I threw myself across the bed while Carm plopped into the orange beanbag chair, our favorite brainstorming spot. Above me, the glow-in-the-dark plastic stars I'd pasted on the dark, sparkling blue ceiling waited for night to show their true colors. Like me? Whatever. The colors soothed me.

“Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“What're you wearing to school Monday?”

“I don't know. Jeans. Bec, we have more important things to figure out.”

“I know, I know.” It was my turn to sigh. “I wanted to act like nothing had changed, at least for a few minutes, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” She sat up and grabbed a notebook. “Okay, enough moping. We need to plan. Where are we going to work?”

I wrapped my arms around my knees. “How about bringing the stuff over tomorrow?”

“I asked
Tia
if I could stay here until my mom comes home. She liked the idea.”

“Perfect! Hey, we can go get your stuff and you can sleep here tonight. Then we can get an early—”

“We? I don't know if you should go out yet.”

“C'mon, Carm, we got home okay.
Tia
will drive us. Besides, there's too much for you to carry alone if I know you. Let me go ask.”

I ran into the hall and downstairs to the kitchen where my aunt was baking. I went to the fridge and tried to not let her see my dejection. The door open, I grabbed a can of cola for Carm and was surprised to see a big pitcher of ruby red liquid on the bottom shelf.

“I put your cranberry juice and protein powder in the pitcher,” my aunt explained. “Help yourself. Oh, and check the freezer. I made you a surprise.”

I opened the freezer door, wondering what she meant. Then I saw the pink ice cube tray, the small sticks poking out of each star-shaped slot. She must've seen my confusion and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“Honey, I remembered how much you liked those freeze pops, so I made some little frozen bars for you with your juice, added some cherry this time. Makes it seem more like a treat. They should be frozen enough to eat in an hour.”

I closed the door and leaned over to kiss her cheek.” Awesome.
Tia, gracias,
you think of everything.”

Pouring a glass, I asked if we could take Carm home early to pick up her stuff. “It'll be easier for her to be here before school starts.”

She gave a low
mmm-hmm
and went back to cutting vegetables. “
Sí,
we can go, but I'm not sure you should be outside the house yet.”

I hid my pout. “I'll cover up. Promise. I have my hoodie.”

“We'll see. Take this tray up to your cousin. I'm sorry, honey, I don't have anything else for you to eat, but give me some time. I'll figure out something.”

“It's okay. I'm not hungry anyway. We'll be upstairs.”

“I'll call you when the baking is done. Then I guess it'll be all right. I can drop you girls at Carm's house while I stop at the market.”

I bounded upstairs with the tray, grateful the protein stuff I slurped all day stopped those horrid hunger pangs. Saturday, my big pig-out day, loomed ahead.
Por favor, Dios,
please, don't let me go through those horrible pains again, I whispered.

The rainbow-hued plate in my hands, the red china covered with bright orange carrots, pale green celery pieces, and clumps of dark green broccoli, would've pleased any artist. It was colorful, and almost appetizing.

Before this, I'd never been much of a veggie person except for a carrot here and there, but once I couldn't have it…I hadn't eaten in so long even the green clumps of broccoli made me long for a bite.

My fingers grazed a bunch and stopped. Ugh. I was losing it for sure when I considered eating that stuff. Never mind.

I pushed open the door and set the tray on the footstool. “
Tia
made you some veggies until we, uh, you eat later.”

Another apology left Carm's mouth as she grabbed a carrot, dipped it in ranch dressing, and took a bite with a loud crunch. “Sorry, Bec. I shouldn't eat in front of you.”