The final bell of the school week rang, and the students scattered out of Emerson Elementary. Drew, Jeff, and Tommy scampered down the hall toward the staircase by the exit. That three o’clock bell on a Friday was always like music to their ears, but this particular Friday in February was extra special – Zombie Days had finally hit theaters. Drew and Jeff jumped down the bottom few steps while Tommy slid down the railing.
“Zom-bie Days! Zom-bie Days!” Tommy chanted.
“I can’t wait,” said Jeff. “It feels like a holiday.”
“I know,” said Tommy. “It’s gonna be so epic.”
“Yeah, the whole night’s gonna be awesome,” Drew added.
He was referring to more than just the movie. First, the boys were heading to Jeff’s house for pizza and video games. Then, Jeff’s mom was taking them to the movie. Finally, they would return to Jeff’s for a sleepover.
The bridge was still closed, and no one, not even Mrs. Goyle, seemed to have any idea when it would reopen. The boys walked around it and headed down Emerson Boulevard. By now, the detour didn’t feel like a detour at all. It felt natural, like it had always been there.
The boys were so excited for the evening that they practically ran to Jeff’s house. Jeff opened the front door, and Drew and Tommy followed, staggering along limply and groaning in their best post-apocalyptic drones.
“Mom, we’re here!” Jeff shouted.
Mrs. Gray stepped out from the family room. “Okay, Mr. Zombie Man. Are you boys excited for tonight?”
“Of course!”
The boys took their book bags and coats up to Jeff’s room. When Drew unzipped his book bag to switch his beanie for his Pirates hat, his books were exposed.
“Why do you got your science book?” Tommy asked. “We had a quiz today. We don’t got any homework.”
“Uh, I guess I forgot to take it out,” said Drew.
Truthfully, he had grown so attached to the drawing on page 139 that he had been bringing the book home every weekend, even though Mrs. Steinbeck never gave homework on weekends. Regardless if it were the best of times or the worst of times, Drew always felt better when he looked at that picture.
Tommy shrugged and shifted his attention to his phone, but Jeff seemed to be turning something over in his mind. Drew waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. If Jeff did realize that it was no accident Drew brought his science book home, he let it go.
The boys went back downstairs and claimed the living room to play video games. Mrs. Gray said she would order the pizza soon and they would leave early for the 7:10 showing of Zombie Days.
“We gotta play Zombie Days on story mode this time,” said Tommy.
The Zombie Days video game was the boys’ favorite game to play together, even though most of the time two would watch while one played. The three of them took turns. As was the rule in all their single-player games, you kept playing until you lost. While one would play, the other two would give their expert opinions. It was the childhood equivalent to a backseat driver.
“Go in that building,” Tommy implored Jeff. “No, not that one. Come on. The white one on the left …”
“I know, I got it, man.”
“Watch out, there’s a group of them over in the corner,” warned Drew. “They’re coming for you.”
“They’re all over you!” said Tommy. “Die. Die. DIE!”
“I think I can … still … get … out.” Jeff was feverishly smashing the buttons on the controller. “Ugh, I’m dead.”
“My turn,” said Tommy, yanking the controller from Jeff’s hands.
Another hour passed with the controller switching hands every now and again. Right as it was about to be Jeff’s turn, Mrs. Gray summoned Jeff to the kitchen.
“Just a minute, Mom, it’s my turn.”
“No, Jeffrey. Now.” Her voice was stern yet weak and scratchy.
Jeff groaned and set down the controller. Drew couldn’t see Mrs. Gray, but he knew by the tone of her voice something had to be wrong.
Tommy grabbed the controller. “We’re not waiting ‘til you get back. I’m up now.”
Jeff slowly backpedaled into the kitchen, his eyes remaining on the TV until he disappeared behind the kitchen wall.
“What do you think that was about?” Drew whispered to Tommy.
“What was what about?” Tommy responded, without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Mrs. Gray,” said Drew. “She sounded … sad, I think. Or maybe scared.” Why would Mrs. Gray be sad or scared? She was her regular self when the boys got to the house.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude. Everything’s fine.”
Drew nodded and said, “All right,” but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
“Man, I already died. But that was still Jeff’s turn, so now it’s my turn. I’m just gonna restart, dude,” said Tommy.
“Okay,” said Drew, now paying more attention to the kitchen than the video game.
A few minutes later, a red-eyed Jeff returned to the living room. Mrs. Gray stood to his right with her arm around him. Drew could see that she was clutching his shoulder firmly.
“Uh, guys,” Jeff began, clearly trying to hold back more tears.
Tommy continued tapping on the controller until Drew nudged him.
“What’s the matter, Jeff?” Drew asked.
“Um …” Jeff looked to his mother for support. She gave him a slight nod, and he continued.
“My Pap died,” he said, looking at the floor.
Drew and Tommy froze. Unsure where to look (or what to say or do), they joined Jeff in his staring contest with the living room carpet.
Picking up where her son left off, Mrs. Gray continued, “He’d been having trouble with his lungs for years now, and this winter has been terrible for him. And he had never been the same since Mom passed.”
As heartbroken as she must have been, her tone was unwavering. It was as though by stating facts, she wouldn’t have to think about the emotional side of her father dying.
“They’re together now, where they belong,” she said, nodding to herself.
“So …” started Tommy.
“I have to go,” said Jeff with a quivering chin. Without giving his friends a chance to respond, he ran up to his room.
“I’m sorry, boys,” said Mrs. Gray, “but your big night will have to wait.”
Drew figured he should say he was sorry for her loss, but he found himself answering Mrs. Gray’s question instead.
“Do you need me to drive you home?” she asked.
“No, it’s okay, we’ll walk,” said Drew.
“Jeff was very close with Pap, and now he’s …” Mrs. Gray trailed off, as if the words were caught in her throat. The once strong and deliberate voice had cracked and now revealed her sadness. She stared out the living room window, as though she were looking for something she couldn’t find. Then she suddenly regained her composure. She inhaled sharply and said, “Well, I have calls to make and arrangements to get in motion. Goodness, so many people to call, things to do. Would you boys mind letting yourselves out?”
“Okay, but our stuff’s still in Jeff’s room,” said Tommy.
“Sure, sure, go up and grab it.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, Jeff’s door was closed and their book bags and coats were on the hallway floor.
“Should we say goodbye to Jeff?” Drew asked.
“Nah, his door’s closed,” said Tommy. “Let’s get outta here.”
****
Drew and Tommy silently walked down the street. Drew had never thought about it before, but he now realized that he had never known anyone who died. And even though he didn’t really know Jeff’s Pap, as much as Jeff talked about him, he felt like he did.
When they reached Ernest Way, Tommy looked up from his phone and broke the silence. “Hey, wanna come to my house? I think my mom can take us to the movie.”
“Um …”
“Come on, why not?” said Tommy.
Drew felt like there was a reason, but he couldn’t explain it.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll just need to call my mom and let her know.”
“Yes!” Tommy exclaimed. “Zom-bie Days! Zom-bie Days! Zom-bie Days!”
****
Mrs. Porter, dressed in workout clothes and holding a water bottle, opened the front door and let the boys in.
“Hey, guys,” she said. She took a swig from her water bottle. “I got your text, Tommy. Everything okay?”
“Jeff can’t go now,” said Tommy. “His grandpa died.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Porter gasped. “What happened? Was he sick? And how’s Jeff taking it?” While she asked questions, she was checking her heart rate on her fitness watch.
“I dunno,” said Tommy. “I think he’s okay. He’s sad, I guess. Hey, can you take us to see Zombie Days since Mrs. Gray can’t? We’ve been waiting forever to see it.”
“I guess I can. Your dad and I were planning on having a date night, but we can just go out to dinner somewhere near the theater during your movie. Then we’ll pick you up right after.”
“Then Drew’s gonna sleep over,” said Tommy. “He has all his stuff with him and we really wanted to have a sleepover tonight.”
“It’s fine with me,” said Mrs. Porter. “But call your mom, Drew, and tell her where you are, okay? She made me promise to keep her in the loop, especially after your little excursion in the woods.”
“Okay,” said Drew as Mrs. Porter handed him her cell phone. He stepped into the den and dialed home.
“Hello,” Penny answered on the other end.
“Mom, I’m letting you know that I’m at Tommy’s now, not Jeff’s.”
“Oh. Okay. What happened?”
“Um, Jeff can’t go to the movie.”
“Aw, that’s too bad. Why –”
“So Mrs. Porter’s gonna take me and Tommy. She said she could and it’s no problem.”
“All right, are you sure she doesn’t mind?”
“Yeah, she doesn’t,” Drew answered quickly. “And then can I sleep over Tommy’s tonight?”
“All right, Drew, but again, only if Mrs. Porter doesn’t mind.”
“She doesn’t mind, Mom.”
Drew and his mom said “I love you” to each other, and she made him promise to call her first thing in the morning.
“Everything good?” asked Mrs. Porter, holding out her hand for her phone.
“Yeah.”
About an hour later, Drew and Tommy hopped into the car with Mr. and Mrs. Porter, and the two boys were on their way to see Zombie Days.
****
“Man, that was so awesome,” said Tommy as he shoved open the exit door from the theater. “There better be a sequel.”
“Yeah, that would be cool,” said Drew. “The part where that girl zombie popped out from behind the couch was ridiculous. I was so scared.”
“I wasn’t,” said Tommy, “but it was awesome. I can’t believe the ending.”
“I know. I couldn’t believe that one guy was bad all along.”
“It was nuts. Plus that battle scene was so sweet. There were like a million zombies.”
“Yeah, Jeff’s gonna love it,” said Drew. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt awful. He wished Jeff were there with them.
Soon they were back at Tommy’s house, setting up shop in the basement for phase three of the big night.
“I’m telling you, man, I already drank so much pop. I’m gonna be up gaming ‘til like six in the morning. I might not fall asleep at all,” said Tommy.
Drew hadn’t been participating in much of the nighttime conversation, though. And what was strange was that Tommy didn’t even seem to notice. It seemed like it was just a normal night for him.
Drew took his book bag into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he brushed, he grabbed his science book and quickly opened to page 139. He felt better as soon as he looked at the picture. Studying the details of the drawing, he began to think about something new: Art never really dies. Even after the artist is gone, the art is left behind.
He headed down to the basement, where the video games were set up. Tommy was slumped over on the couch.
“I’m up, I’m up,” he said when he heard Drew coming down the stairs.
Ten minutes later, Tommy was snoring and Drew was wide awake and alone. He opened his book bag and pulled out his science book. As he turned to page 139, a loud car pulled up outside. The car door slammed shut, and someone entered the house. Footsteps scraped through the living room and into the kitchen. Seconds later, the microwave was turned on.
That’s gotta be Jason, Drew realized.
Drew tiptoed over to the bottom of the steps. The TV in the living room shot flickers of light against the wall at the top of the dark staircase. It reminded Drew of watching the lightning strikes from his own basement during the storm. He knew now that the storm was the kind of thing he couldn’t control. The same thing went for Pap – there was nothing Drew, or anyone else, could do to bring him back. But there were some things he could control, and this was one of them. He grabbed his science book and marched upstairs.
****
Jason was sitting on the living room couch with his feet on the coffee table, watching SportsCenter on TV. In one hand was a plate of steaming pizza rolls. In the other was his phone.
Drew took a few hesitant steps toward him. “Hey, Jason.”
Jason’s head jerked away from the TV. “Where’s Tommy?”
“He’s asleep downstairs.”
“Pssh, what a wuss,” Jason scoffed and swiped on his phone.
“Anyway, do you draw?” Drew asked.
“No,” Jason murmured. Between his phone, the sports highlights on TV, and the pizza rolls, Drew was struggling to hold Jason’s attention.
“Oh. Well, um, your name’s in my science book.”
“Huh?”
“Your name’s in the front cover of my science book. I have the same book you had.”
He held up the book for Jason to see.
“Wow, that’s so awesome,” said Jason, rolling his eyes and checking his phone again. “What do you want?”
Drew took a nervous gulp of air and continued. “Well, uh, someone drew this picture in here, and I was wondering if it was you.”
“And if it was, what are you gonna do, tell on me or something? Go ‘head, tell the principal, I don’t care. Seriously, I don’t care.” He shoved a pizza roll into his mouth, but it was obviously still too hot. His eyes widened, and he took a series of quick breaths with his mouth open.
“No, no, uh, someone else was asking and I just thought I’d check,” said Drew. He hadn’t planned on lying, but he blurted out the words anyway. It was just easier.
He opened the book and showed Jason the picture. Jason’s eyes passed over it without the slightest change in his expression.
“Wasn’t me,” he said. “If it was a picture of a car or something, maybe. But a picture of some dumb beach wouldn’t be me.”
“Okay, just checking, thanks,” said Drew. “Uh, see ya.”
He scuttled out of the living room and crept back down the stairs. He slid his science book into his book bag and removed his wallet from its side pocket. He paused and glanced over at the couch; Tommy was still out cold. He pulled the list from his wallet and examined it. Then he took a black marker from his book bag and crossed Jason Porter off his list. Now only two names remained: Mike Hudock and Stacey Janofsky.
****
Drew tried to call Jeff over the weekend but couldn’t get ahold of him. On Sunday he checked the obituary in the newspaper and found the listing for Jeff’s Pap, Jeffrey Joseph Shelley. Jeff’s name was listed as one of the grandchildren. Drew knew that under different circumstances, Jeff would have thought it was so cool to see his own name in the newspaper.
Pap’s funeral was on Monday. When Jeff returned to school on Tuesday, he had to do make-up work in the library for most of the morning, so Drew and Tommy didn’t get a chance to talk to him until lunch.
“Long time no see,” said Tommy as the boys sat down at their table in the cafeteria.
Jeff smiled faintly. “Yeah, I know.”
“I got a ham sandwich and chips,” said Tommy, dumping everything from his brown paper bag. “What about you guys?”
“Peanut butter and jelly,” said Jeff. “And vanilla pudding.”
“I’m buying,” said Drew. “I forgot my lunch this morning.”
“Man, on Tuna Fish Tuesday? That’s the worst!” said Tommy.
“Yeah,” Drew sighed. “Oh well.”
He went to get his lunch and returned in under a minute (the line was never long on Tuna Fish Tuesdays). As he sat down, Tommy was proposing a trade to Jeff.
“How about your pudding for my chips?”
Jeff considered. He looked to Drew. Drew nodded his approval, and the exchange was made.
“Good deal,” said Tommy.
“Yeah, I like to put the chips on my sandwich,” said Jeff.
Tommy turned to Drew, who was prodding his tuna fish sandwich as if it were a science experiment and not his lunch, and said, “Hey, that tuna looks pretty good, but I’d rather eat your BRAINS!”
The two boys broke out in howling laughter.
“What’s that mean?” asked Jeff.
“That’s what this one kid says in Zombie Days,” Tommy answered.
“What? You guys saw Zombie Days?” said Jeff. He looked confused, but Drew couldn’t tell for sure.
“Yeah,” said Tommy.
“Without me? When?”
“Friday,” Tommy mumbled, his mouth full of ham sandwich. “My mom took us since yours couldn’t.”
The confusion on Jeff’s face was joined by anger. He dropped the bag of potato chips to the table.
“Because my … you … my Pap died!”
The boys sat in awkward silence for several moments. The rest of the cafeteria was bustling with lunchroom noise, but Drew felt he could have heard a pin drop. He waited for Jeff to say something, but Jeff just sat there with his arms crossed and his lips sealed.
Finally Drew broke the silence. “Jeff, you okay?”
Jeff didn’t answer. He picked up his lunch, leaving the chips on the table, and moved to an empty seat at the next table over. He didn’t talk to Drew or Tommy the rest of the day. When school was over, he quickly gathered his things and got a head start home. Drew tried to catch up, but it was useless. By the time he got to the closed bridge, Jeff was gone.
****
When Drew got home from school, his mom was waiting for him. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked through the front door and into the living room.
“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, Andrew.”
Drew’s stomach sank. He took off his coat and sat down on the other end of the couch. The strange thing, though, was that he wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. Normally when his mom or dad called him “Andrew,” he knew exactly why, even if he pretended not to. But this time was different. Something had felt off, especially since lunch, but he couldn’t figure out why. He felt guilty, but at the same time he felt like he truly had done nothing wrong.
“I ran into Mrs. Goyle today,” said Penny, “and she told me Mrs. Gray’s father, Jeff’s grandfather, passed away on Friday. Is that why Jeff couldn’t go to the movie?”
Drew could tell she already knew the answer.
“Yeah,” he said, almost in a whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me that when you called me on Friday?”
“I dunno. I … I guess I felt weird telling you someone died. I didn’t know what to do.”
After a pause, Penny said, “And how’s Jeff doing? Did he talk to you about it?”
“He was really sad on Friday. He was crying and everything – not in front of us, but we could tell he was. And then today he got really mad when we said we saw the movie. But I still don’t get it. All I did was see a movie. And now Jeff hates me.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” said Penny.
“Was it wrong to go to the movie? I mean, I wanted him to be able to go, but he couldn’t. So I guess I was wrong, huh?”
“No, going to the movie wasn’t wrong. There isn’t really a right or wrong when it comes to these things. It’s … it’s just a tough thing to deal with, that’s all. Jeff was, and still is, going through a difficult time. He’s hurting, and you have to understand that.”
“Well, now he’s really mad at me, and I don’t know what to do,” said Drew.
“You could give him a call and see how he’s doing,” Penny suggested.
“But he won’t talk to me.”
“He’ll appreciate if you still try. He’s going through a process, that’s all. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I’m sure he wants to have his best friend by his side during a tough time.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” said Drew. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but he had to do something.
“Drew,” Penny said before he walked out of the room, “you’re a good kid.” She stood up and hugged her son. “This is just one of those tough times. You two will be okay. I promise.”
Drew went to the kitchen and sat there for several minutes. Finally he picked up the phone and dialed Jeff’s number. He was nervous as he dialed, unsure if Jeff was still upset. Unsure if he would even talk to him. Unsure if he still wanted to be friends at all. A part of Drew hoped no one would answer. It would be much easier to face the impartial voicemail than the scornful rage of Jeff. But after two rings, the phone clicked. Drew’s heart jumped into his throat.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mr. Gray. This is Drew. Um, is Jeff there?”
“Sure, Drew. Hold on just a minute.”
Drew could hear Mr. Gray calling for his son: “Jeff, Drew’s on the phone.”
Drew cringed. He almost expected to hear Jeff yelling back to his dad, expressing no interest in talking to his now former friend.
“I don’t wanna talk to that jerk,” he imagined him saying.
“Hello?” It was Jeff.
“Hey, uh, hey, Jeff.”
“Hey, Drew.”
There was a pause. Drew waited for Jeff to say something else, but he knew Jeff well enough to know that he was doing the same.
“What’s up?” Drew asked.
“Nothing. What’s up?” Jeff responded quietly.
“Uh, nothin’. I just, well, you seemed like you were in a hurry after school, and … I’m sorry we saw the movie without you. You were hurting, and I should’ve understood that,” Drew said, unsure of what it really even meant.
Jeff took a few seconds to respond. Drew braced himself. He was afraid of what Jeff might say, but the silent anticipation was even more unbearable.
“It’s okay,” Jeff said finally. “I was just sad about Pap. I didn’t … I just didn’t think you’d see Zombie Days. Everything has just been so crazy, you know? I dunno. I didn’t know what to do. But I guess I wasn’t really mad at you.”
Again Drew thought back to the storm. He remembered how, even though he had only been mad about the swing set, it had frustrated him into feeling anger toward everyone and everything else, too.
“Yeah, I understand,” he said.
Another moment of awkward silence passed. Jeff seemed like he wasn’t mad anymore, but Drew still wasn’t sure.
“Oh, by the way,” he said, “this one kid in Zombie Days, he’s so cool. He reminds me of you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. A couple times I forgot what I was watching, and I was thinking like it actually was you. Do you wanna go see it on Friday? I mean, you still wanna see it, right?”
“I mean, yeah, definitely,” said Jeff. “You wanna see it again, though?”
“Sure. I wanted to see it with you in the first place. Besides, I like seeing movies a second time. I always miss stuff the first time.”
“All right, yeah. That’ll be cool.”
Drew was relieved. The phone call he had dreaded making had settled into a friendly conversation. Still, even if things were back to normal between the two boys, Drew knew things would never be quite the same for Jeff.
“Cool. So you and your Pap were really close, right?”
“Yeah, I mean, he was sick for a while. But we actually thought he was getting better. That’s why it was so surprising. But I used to visit with him all the time.”
“You liked to golf with him, right?” asked Drew.
“Yeah, we went mini golfing all the time. He loved golf.”
Drew sat and listened. Somehow he knew it was exactly the thing to do.
“He’d always be winning by a lot,” Jeff continued, “but then on the last couple holes he’d mess up on purpose so I could catch up and I would end up winning. I never realized when I was little. I just thought he got tired or something. But then the last time we played, it was like, October I think, I realized he was letting me win. I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. It just hit me all of a sudden. And sometimes he would swing and miss and say the sun was in his eyes. Even if it was cloudy or nighttime. He was always joking around.”
“It sounds like he was really cool,” said Drew.
“Yeah, he really was. Sometimes when he had a real easy shot, like the ball was only a couple inches from the hole, he would yell ‘Fore!’ like real golfers do when they hit the ball really far, and then he’d just tap it in real easy.”
Both boys laughed. They talked for a few more minutes until Drew heard someone on the other end say something to Jeff.
“Hey, I have to go,” said Jeff. “Someone beeped in twice already and my mom’s been waiting for a couple calls.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll see ya tomorrow,” said Drew.
“See ya tomorrow.”
Drew hung up the phone. Mom was right, he realized. Jeff wasn’t really mad at me. He was sad about losing his Pap.
After grabbing a granola bar from the cupboard and his book bag from the floor, Drew went up to his room. He sat down at his desk and turned to his affairs, which consisted of 15 long division problems in his math book and a worksheet on adverbs.