Tales from South Rock

    “You ever wonder why people come back from the dead?”

    A hush fell over the dinner table. J.J. froze, with his fork full of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth, and looked at his daughter.

    “What?”

    “I said,” the young girl repeated, making small runes on her plate out of her peas and carrots, “You ever wonder why people come back from the dead?”

    J.J. resumed taking the bite, and swallowed. Neither the first time nor the last was it that curious girl would prod him with such a question. The man proceeded cautiously.

    “Wondered about it, sure. How come, sweetie?”

    “Why does that happen?”

    Her eyes were fixed on the plate, magnified through oversized lenses in purple plastic frames, her hand still working at the vegetables as though she were scrying. A boiled carrot round slid back and forth in its buttery sauce.

    J.J. sighed, “I dunno, Carolina. That’s a little outside my wheelhouse, so to speak. Why’re you thinking about that?”

    “I saw one,” she replied.

    “Saw what?”

    “A zombie. When I went to the mall with Mai on Saturday, there was a zombie guy waiting at the bus stop. He had on a suit, though. Never seen one dressed up that nice before.”

    “And how d’you know he was a zombie?”

    The girl made a face, her ear fins flaring wide around it.

    “I know what a zombie looks like, Dad.”

    “Sorry, honey. I’m sure it was like you say. So, you been thinkin’ about it the whole time since then?”

    She finally put one of the carrots in her mouth and chewed. “Not the whole time,” she conceded. “But I’ve been wonderin’ about it. There’s gotta be a reason for it. You can’t just have somethin’ that no one can explain.”

    Her father shook his head. “I mean, sometimes—”

    “Leh-limes.”

    Both of the pair turned to regard his younger, two years’ Carolina’s junior, who had finally taken a break from shoveling food into her mouth to join the conversation.

    “What was that?”

    “Leylines,” she repeated more clearly, taking a gulp of apple juice.

    J.J. frowned.

    “Hey kiddo, I thought told you no hats at the table. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

    Her whole face scrunched up as she grimaced, pulling her backwards cap more securely down over her short bowl cut. Jeremiah deflated with another sigh.

    “Liz, those aren’t real,” said Carolina, prodding at the fried coating of a drumstick with her knife and fork.

    “Yes, they are!” her sister protested. “I read about them. They run all underground, and magic stuff happens on ‘em. Zombies’re probably magic, right?”

    J.J. quirked an eyebrow. That would explain the books that had gone missing from the shelf in his study. He’d bought them for a laugh, but they turned out to be pretty dense reads, so he never got too far. Apparently, the ten-year-old had no trouble with them.

    “But you can’t prove magic with science,” Carolina argued.

    “And you think there’s a scientific explanation for zombies, then?” J.J. asked.

    “Well, there has to be. Everything is science. Even ‘magic’.”

    Liz rolled her eyes so hard it seemed they might slip into the back of her head.

    “Why are you so boring, Carol?”

    “I’m not boring, I’m bein' realistic.” She shuffled her peas into two straight lines. “There’s a reason for everything, even zombies. And I’m gonna find out why, someday.”

    “Even the guv'rment can’t figure that out,” Liz said with a pout. “How’re you gonna do it?”

    “Well maybe they ain’t been lookin’ at it the right way. Have you got any better ideas?”

    J.J. cleared his throat loudly.

    “Girls, that’s enough. Both of you finish your food. Liz, I don’t wanna see that hat at the table again tomorrow, you hear me? …Elizabeth.”

    The young one’s eyes grew wide.

    “Let her keep it, Dad, she likes to wear it. It makes her feel safe.”

    Impossibly, they somehow grew wider, following the initial horror of hearing her full name, now caught somewhere between appreciative and aghast that Carolina would divulge such a secret. Observing the whole metamorphosis as only a father could, J.J.’s shoulders drooped.

    “Alright, but not when we’ve got company over, okay? Can, I get a ‘yes,’ there?”

    The younger one nodded. “Yes, Dad.”

    “Thank you. And Carol? Can we not talk about zombies right now? You’re creepin’ me out.”

    She pulled another face, but said, “Okay.”

    “Good. Thank you. Now, did y’all want to go out for ice cream or what?”

    “Yesss!”

    The duo’s spirits were swiftly restored.

    “Good. Then hush up and eat your vegetables.”

    “…Dad you’re just eating all your potatoes,” Carolina jabbed. Liz cackled.

    “Oof, guilty… Alright, I’ll eat my veggies too. But let’s all hurry up, okay? The shop’s gonna be closin’ up soon.”

    “M’kay!”

    “Yep!”

    J.J. watched his children scrape at their plates like there was no tomorrow, smiling to himself. Reluctantly, he stirred his peas into his potatoes, feeling more childish than them both.