Read My Teacher is a Zombie (Supernatural Learning Book 1) Online
Authors: J.R. Murdock
My Teacher is a Zombie (Supernatural Learning Book 1)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by J.R. Murdock
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Further information may be requested by contacting J.R. Murdock directly at [email protected]
Version 1.0
Cover artwork by Dan Absalonson.
Find more of his work at:
http://www.dandantheartman.com
My Teacher is a Zombie
by J.R. Murdock
Chapter 1
"Rosario Guadalupe Catalina Santiago Dominguez."
"That's your sister's name?"
"Yeah, we just call her 'Zita' for short."
"But how do you get Zita from all that?"
"Come on, Stanley. You never asked me how they get Bert from Alexander Roberto Angel Jesus Dominguez."
"But you're my best friend. I just assumed it didn't matter. Besides, you're not as cute as your sister."
Bert punched Stanley. "That's my sister you're talking about. Besides, she's only in sixth grade and you're in eighth. Don't even think about it. That's just weird."
"Hey, it's not like I want to date her. Ew. Seriously. All I said was..."
"I heard what you said. Come on. We're going to be late for class."
The boys picked up their lunch trays and backpacks. After dumping their trash they headed down to room 475. They had U.S. History together. In fact it's where they'd first met and decided to start having lunch together. Stanley Kodluboy grew up an only child and with two parents far too busy to take him anywhere, he had always been left to his own devices.
It had never really bothered him not having friends growing up, but after he met Bert and the entire extended family, he realized just what he'd been missing out on all those years. All he had to do was ask and he'd be able to spend the night at Bert's house.
"Hey, what are you doing this weekend? I hear there's a football game over at the high school. Want to go?" Bert asked.
"I don't know. Who else is going?"
"I don't know. I just thought it'd be fun to go. My mom can drop us off."
They pulled up short of the classroom. Redhead Rex Ruffington, with his Misfits t-shirt, steel-toed boots, and an angry scowl, stood in their way, and he didn't look like he was going to move.
"Are you girls talking about going to a football game? I thought you just played with dolls."
"Look, Rex, I've told you before they're called action figures, not dolls."
A large finger poked Stanley in the chest. "I've told you before, my brother plays on that team and I don't want the two of you anywhere near that game. You're just a couple of jinxes. Do you hear me? Just go play house or something. Don't make me have to hurt you."
Bert pulled Stanley away. "That's fine with us. We'll find something else to do this weekend."
"You better. I'll be watching you."
The bell clanged and Rex took off for his class. They'd had run-ins with the boy before, but nothing ever came of it. For some reason Bert was scared of him. Stanley just figured Redhead Rex was full of hot air like most bullies. Even if he was the largest eighth grader to come through Ashland Middle School in the past twenty years, that didn't mean he had the right to pick on kids smaller than him.
Bert and Stanley rushed into their class. Mrs. Applebaum's jowls shook as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shook a finger at the boys, glaring at them with her eyes made huge by thick-lensed glasses. She'd been their teacher for six months already, but Stanley just couldn't get used to her face. Or her smell for that matter. No one should smell like butterscotch all the time.
With heads down, both boys mumbled, "Sorry," and took their seats.
"Can anyone tell me where we left off last time?" She shuffled from her desk to the whiteboard, pulling a dry erase marker from the pocket of her brown and yellow-flower-print house dress, and started scrawling something in shaky letters while she mumbled to herself.
"We were discussing the presidents," said William Schneider. Bill, being the smartest kid in the eighth grade, always answered first. His glasses weren't near as thick as the teacher's and they didn't stop him from needing to squint to see the board.
"Very good, Bill. I'd add to your participation points, but I think you're already maxed out for this month. Does anyone else recall which president we left off with?"
Bert's hand shot up. "Washington?"
"Close enough. I'll give you one participation point. Thank you Mr. Dominguez. We actually left off with Adams."
Stanley's attention diverted from the list Mrs. Applebaum wrote on the board to the bird flying past the window. How he longed to be outside flying along with the birds instead of being tucked away inside a classroom. Ashland had a great diversity of birds and bugs and while avoiding homework, Stanley had collected a good number of each from the woods and parks. Unless he missed his guess, the one flying by was a red-headed woodpecker. He'd never managed to catch one of them. They'd be sure to put up a great fight.
"Mr. Kodluboy!"
Stanley's head shot back to the front of the classroom, eyes wide. Mrs. Applebaum had picked up her meter stick and strode toward his desk.
"Could you repeat the question, please?"
"I asked you a simple question. Who was the fifth president of the United States." She rested the end of her meter stick on the edge of his desk.
He had to think quickly. He hadn't studied the order of the presidents. Well, if Washington was the first president and he was on the one dollar bill, then the person on the five dollar bill...
"Abraham Lincoln!"
The classroom erupted in laughter. Stanley shrunk down in his desk and tried to disappear. He'd never felt so stupid in his life. Kids were going to give him a hard time for weeks on this one.
Mrs. Applebaum shook her head. "I think you'll stay in from recess with me and we'll go over the presidents, Mr. Kodluboy."
"What? We don't have recess."
Mrs. Applebaum had been an elementary teacher for most of her career. She'd only moved over to being a middle school teacher a couple years ago. She might be old, but she'd never gotten confused like that before. Even if she looked near retirement age, she usually had her wits about her.
She shook her head as if in a fog and looked up at the clock. "I'm sorry class. Let's go over the homework lesson for tomorrow. Polly, if you wouldn't mind, could you write the assignment on the board?"
Polly Gunderson smoothed out her pink skirt, adjusted her dental headset, and took the dry erase marker from Mrs. Applebaum. Even though Bill was the smartest kid in class, something about his being in a wheelchair kept him from becoming what Polly had become in nearly every class; teacher's pet. Even though she had enough hardware on her head to set off any metal detector in a five-mile radius, she was the sweetest girl to all the teachers. She even made it a point to find someone in each class doing something wrong and telling on that person. She'd been doing that since sixth grade and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. For this she always got special attention from the teachers, but the disdain of her fellow students.
After Polly wrote the assignment on the board, students either wrote down the assignment in their planner or, like Stanley, got out their smart phones and took a picture of the assignment. Stanley could barely read his own writing and if he didn't take a picture of Polly's perfect writing, he'd be sure to miss something. He sent the picture to his email address just like the rest of his classes and he could look them all up when he got home.
The teacher sat at her desk for the rest of the class and she stared absently at her desk. She held a pen in one hand, her left, and didn't move. Even when the noise in the class went from loud, to deafening, to obnoxious, she didn't move. Two teachers from other classrooms came in and settled the class down right before the bell.
"What was with her today?" Bert asked as they pushed their way out of the classroom.
"I don't know. That was really weird. I mean, she's not the most normal teacher we have, but that was beyond weird, you know?"
"Hey, what are you doing after school?"
"I don't know. Depends on how much homework we get."
"My mom is making pozole. You should see if you can come over. Just tell your mom that we're going to do our homework together."
Something bumped into the back of Stanley's legs.
"If anyone believes the two of you actually do homework, I'd be amazed. I've seen the grades you two get. Now if you would kindly excuse me so I can get to class, it takes me long enough as it is." William rolled his wheelchair forward, and if Stanley didn't know any better he'd swear that his foot got ran over on purpose.
"That looked like it hurt," Bert said.
Stanley scrunched his toes inside his shoe. It had hurt, but he wasn't going to show it. "Come on, let's get to class.
"So what do you think? Can you come over for dinner?"
"It's a school night. My parents like to have me home during the week. I don't know why. It's not like we're going to eat together or anything. Let me ask them if I can stay at your house on Friday. There's a football game over at the high school We can go over there, maybe."
Bert looked deflated. "Okay. I guess we'll do that. But that's still two days away. It's not like you've got volleyball practice or anything."
"How do you know I don't have practice?" Stanley stopped and waited for Bert to answer.
"I went online and looked it up."
"Isn't that a little creepy? Are you going to start following me home or something?"
"Oh shut up. Like you haven't done weird stuff like that to me before." Bert pushed Stanley and they headed off laughing to their next class.
Chapter 2
"My mom said she'd make pozole Friday night so we can eat before we head to the game. I told her you were coming and she said she'd be sure to make an extra large pot full."
"Look, it was only that one time I ate seven tacos at your house and I was really hungry. I hadn't eaten all day." Stanley patted his belly.
"How many times have you eaten at my house? My mom has seen you eat. You didn't get that by not." Bert poked Stanley's stomach.
"So I like to eat. I can't help it."
"Any idea who else can go with us on Friday?"
"I don't know. Who were you thinking?"
"Well, it's at the high school. I mean, we've never been there before and we should probably go with a couple other guys. The last thing we need is for some older kids to be messing with us, you know. I mean, Rex Ruffington is going to be there."
"Are you scared of him?" Stanley puffed up his chest.
"Well, you're bigger than I am. In more ways than one. You know. Hey, did you even ask your mom if you can stay over?"
"Oh shoot! I knew I forgot something last night. I was so busy trying to study the order of the presidents I totally forgot. Hold on, I'll just text her. I'm sure it's no big deal."
Stanley got out his phone and sent a text message off to his mother. She'd be working and he didn't expect to get an answer right away. He put the phone back in his pocket.
"Well, at least if she says I didn't ask her, I can just show her the text."