Brains!

Brains!

Mary Hennessy stood at the door of their moderate semi-detached house. “Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, Aiden. Get your ass in the house right now!”

“I’m trying, Mam,” Aiden said as he swerved through the gate then leaped over his sister’s tricycle that had been abandoned on the path. Unfortunately for Aiden, he did not notice his brother’s skateboard until his right foot had made contact with it.

Wheels set in motion, Aiden found himself being rapidly propelled towards the open door. The skateboard collided with the door step and he found himself momentarily flying through the air before landing in a heap in the hallway. His Mam slammed the door behind him, hard enough to set all the crockery in the kitchen to clattering.

“I don’t get what the fuss is all about,” he said, rubbing at his various aches and pains. “Is it not just the locals heading off home?”

“No, lad, it’s not. Look at the clock,” Mary said.

It was undeniably true. The bar would not be closing its doors for another hour or more, and they all knew Padraig was far from punctual with his call for ‘Last Orders!’ None of the ‘locals’ would be heading back to their homes until they were given no choice in the matter.

Door safely closed, Mary stepped across the hallway to the kitchen window. Aiden joined his mother. The group were shambling along the street, stumbling and tripping along like at many a closing time, but there was definitely something odd about them. As they drew level with the front path, one of the men peeled away from the rest of the group, stepped through the open gate and staggered nearer and nearer to the front door.

“Is... is that my Da? It is my Da, I’m sure of it. But how? Was it not him in the coffin then?”

“Don’t be daft, Aiden. You saw him, looked at him all laid out in his Sunday best, ready to go and meet his maker. Dead he was and dead he is,” Mary said, without noticing that her eldest was no longer there but had taken himself off to open the door.

“Well, Mam,” Aiden announced, “he’s undead now! Hi, Da! I’d not expected to see you.”

“Gummmm mummm nummm.”

Aiden had to admit that his father looked particularly rough, and he seemed to be finding it difficult to talk. He guessed that would mean nothing more than bread and margarine to eat for the rest of the week, a bit of boiled cabbage if he was lucky. There was no way his father would have got in such a state on less than a weeks wages.

“Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, Aiden. What did you go and let him in for? He’s dead.”

“No, Mam, look! He’s undeaded hisself!” Aiden looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Realization spread across their faces as Fergal came clattering down the stairs. “Wow! This is so cool! Da’s a zombie. Wait ‘til I tell ‘em at school!”

The man, who it had to say reeked to high heaven, tilted his head up and sniffed at the air. “Mummm ummm... Brains!” he said, spitting out teeth and dropping a finger or two.

Mary stepped forward, trying to position herself between the wreck of a human and her two sons. “You’re in the wrong place for them, love. Don’t you remember how you always said I was dumb and brainless? Well, the kids take after me.”

“Brains!” the man repeated; clearly he had a one-track mind. He reached out with surprising speed and grabbed Fergal. Gripping the boy tightly he pulled him dangerously close to his salivating mouth.

“Mam! Help! Da’s gone mad!” screeched Fergal.

“Oh, you don’t want him, Jerimiah,” she said, reaching forward to tug at her youngest son. “Fergal, here, he’s the most brainless of the lot.”

“Mam!” objected Fergal.

“I don’t think he can hear you, Mam,” Aiden put in. “Look, he’s got no ears.”

“Well get a hold of your brother and give me a hand then.”

With the two pulling and Fergal himself struggling, the dead man had no chance of hanging on for long. The younger boy suddenly was free, his father’s hand still clinging on but now perfectly armless.

“Go upstairs now, Fergal and watch over Aine.”

“But, Mam!”

“No ‘but’s’. Get up those stairs sharp now, and make sure you stay there.”

With Fergal out of imminent danger Aiden stepped closer to his mother. They both stood there assessing Jerimiah Hennessy, the man that had once ruled the household. His once smart suit now hung in tatters from his new slim-line body. He seemed disorientated as he turned his head one way, then the other. Finally his sightless eyes seemed to fix on his widow. He reached out for Mary, apparently not noticing that his hand was no longer attached to his wrist. Aiden knocked the man’s arm away and it detached itself from the shoulder and dropped to the ground.

“Oh, Jaysus! What about the carpet!”

“It’s alright, Ma. Look, it’s not bleeding. But what are we going to do about the rest of him.”

Scratching at his head and removing half of his scalp in the process, Jerimiah Hennessy, or what was left of him, sniffed hopefully at the air. “Brains?” His tone did not sound very hopeful.

“I told you before, Jer, there’s not one brain here between the lot of us. Perhaps you’d have better luck looking next door.”

Could that be a spark of hope in his father’s dead eyes, Aiden wondered, as the man turned and lurched towards the door.

“Yes, that’s right, dear. Down the path and next gate on the left. Open the door for your father, Aiden, there’s a good lad.”

The man staggered out onto the darkening street, leaving more of himself behind than he had taken with him. Aiden slammed the door shut and reached for the bolt to secure it closed.

“But what about the neighbors?”

“Don’t worry about them, Aiden. They’ll all off down the pub.”

Mother and son stood by the window and watched the dead man amble this way and that, his mouth opening occasionally to let another tooth fall by the wayside. Neither had a clue as to how much time passed before the others staggered along the street, heading back towards the graveyard. All of them looked like they were far from physically complete.

“Samuel Spade’s going to have his work cut out for him tomorrow, what with all the reburials.” Aiden finally broke the silence, then yawned. “Do you think he’ll be back? Da, I mean?”

“Over my dead body,” his mother said. “Now, Aiden, off to bed. And don’t forget to clean your teeth.”