The Zombie in the Basement
“Going into his backyard, he ran up the back porch steps and into the kitchen, slamming the screen door as he entered.
His mother turned from the stove and frowned when she saw the condition of her son.
Ricky’s pants were covered in mud and grass stains, as was his shirt. His arms and hands were also covered in a thin layer of dust and dirt and his elbows were caked with mud. His face was so dirty it made him look like a camouflaged soldier going to war. His hair was matted down on the sides of his face from sweat.
She ignored the pot of boiling water for the pasta they were going to have for dinner and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Ricky James Meyers, what in the world were you doing out there?”
Ricky tried to look as bashful as he could. “Sorry, Mom, I fell down.”
“Fell down? In what? A dumpster?” She pointed to the hallway leading to the upstairs bathroom. “You get right upstairs and take a shower, and make sure you wash in all the cracks and other places on that filthy body.”
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