---Hi. I haven't posted in a long time. Not gonna explain why, but I'm back to submit this and hopefully more later on. It's part of the Halloween contest so please vote and comment, etc. Thanks
- Also, spoiler, this is about the more traditional zombie rather than the movie idea and thought it'd be fun. Hope you agree.
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I hate my job. The position advertised travel. It just hadn't stated that you would be traveling to the worst places in the country. It advertised interesting challenges which would require problem solving skills and come with the ability to make necessary changes, not the stress of having to produce results without the cooperation of the condescending management. It promised a good salary, ... well that was true and unfortunately it was good enough that I put up with all of the other bullshit. It was really my own damn fault for thinking corporate accounting would be exciting and glamorous.
So I found myself in some backwater town going over the books of one of my company's smaller assets and trying to ignore the general suspicion and dirty looks I was getting from the local staff. I sat in my `office' which was nothing more than a broom closet with a desk. The ten year old computer hummed at my feet as I stared at the monitor in complete confusion. It was no wonder they were in the red with so many counter-productive policies and wasteful business practices being handed down from the administration. My report was no doubt going to be chock full of recommendations, which if followed, would constitute an overhaul of the entire structure of the factory.
"You've been here for FOUR days," came a belligerent voice from the doorway. I looked up and saw one of the factory managers standing with his hands stuck in his pockets. His white button up shirt pulled taut over his large belly proudly displaying the stains and remnants of whatever had consisted of his lunch or at least the small portion that had not made it to his mouth. Enormous mutton chops framed his fat face with greasy hair, making the man an altogether unattractive picture. Though I knew from his personnel file that he was just shy of 45, he looked more like a man in his upper 50s. "You haven't done a god damn thing except sit here staring at that computer. You want to tell me what exactly it is you're doing?"
I sighed. This wasn't the first time that I had this discussion, not even the first time with him. He knew why I was here and was simply resenting my presence and throwing his weight around. Luckily, I in no way answered to him or anyone else at the factory.
"Mr. LeDeux, I've told you. I've been sent by the company to take a look at your reports and find out why it is that you're operating below expectations. At the moment, I'm going through your production numbers and not only are you not meeting your schedule but you're way over budget. I'd like to sit down with you and discuss-."
"Listen, you little shit, I don't work for you. I don't give a fuck what the hell you think you know or what fancy college you went to. Just sit here doing whatever it is you do and stay out of everyone else'sway. There won't be any sit downs or interviews or meetings with the staff. When you're done, just go back and tell them that everything's fine down here. You got it or do I have to draw you a picture?"
"I got it." I said and sighed again. This was typical of the attitude I was shown at every one of my assignments. It was why I hated my job and since he was right and I was not required to show my reports to him or anyone but my supervisor at corporate, I simply let it go.
LeDeux smirked at me and waddled away from my doorway. I gave a second to curse him for an ignorant redneck with less smarts than hygienic habits, shut my computer down and left for the day.
As I got into the rented compact car, I felt a twinge of regret. I should stay and finish my report so I could get the hell out of there and back home until being shipped off to my next assignment. I slammed the door and threw the car into drive. Fuck that, I thought. I was too pissed off to work and just needed some down time. Of course, down time in the Swamp That Time Forgot was not as appealing as sitting in front of a computer for hours at a time trying to make sense of the mess that I was handed. Making my final decision, I peeled out of the driveway and headed back to the bug infested motel that for the time being was home.
My car died less than halfway there and to say there was no service there was only to imply that there was service anywhere in this backward county. I would have to walk the rest of the way.
It was a nice day- no, scratch that. The day sucked shit but the weather was nice if you dismissed the humidity and vicious mosquitoes that were hungry for blood. I thought it fitting since it was mid October and Halloween was only right around the corner. Halloween was my favorite holiday. There was something about a day that emphasized the lengthening shadows and the new chill in the air which spoke of the promise of the next year while tolling the death of the current one. A time to take a walk through the darker places of the world and bring a little light and frivolity and goodness to it. Of course, there was the candy and kids running around like insane lunatics and costume parties that appealed to me as well.
I had walked a good three miles before I started regretting my decision, not only to walk to the motel but to wear my loafers which bit into my feet with every step. I figured the next house I saw would be a perfect place to stop and call for a tow and a ride. I was just full of bad ideas today.
The house, or shack if you like, was dilapidated and seemed to be standing only by the grace of God and the placement of some well placed two by fours leaning against the outside walls. It's fading and chipping paint was varied in color making it impossible to tell what color it had been originally. The foliage around it grew haphazardly and encroached upon the house as if resentful of it being there. A dirt path led to the front stoop made from the passing of many feet. An old black woman sat in a rocking chair, slowly rocking as she snapped beans into a bucket. She watched me warily as I approached.
"Good afternoon, ma'am." No reply. "My car died a bit down the road and I was hoping I could use your phone to call for a tow."
"Ain't got no phone." She said, simply.
"Oh. I see. Shit." I felt embarrassed for cursing in front of the old woman. "Pardon my French, ma'am."
"That wasn't French, cher." She smiled.
"No, I guess it wasn't." I smiled back. "Could I bother you for something to drink."
"'Suppose. Come sit."
I started toward the stoop when I realized that there were no other chairs than the one she sat in. Having noticed my confusion, she nodded to the worn place at her feet and despite an affection for the suit I was wearing, I sat reluctantly.
"Chu-chut!!" She yelled.
"I'm sorry?"
"Wasn't talkin' to you, Cher."
A moment later a large, dark skinned black man walked out of the trees and bushes from the side of the house. The two things I noticed about him at first was that he was his height. He must have stood six foot three at least. The other was that he was filthy. The clothes he wore were tattered and stained. His skin showed many dark patches of dried dirt as if he hadn't washed in quite some time. The third thing I noticed was the haunted look in his eyes. He seemed to be looking at everything while at the same time, seeing nothing.
The old woman spoke to him in another language, resembling French, which I assumed to be creole. He didn't seem to be listening, his eyes rolled around in his head before he disappeared into the house.
"Is that your grandson?" I asked and the woman laughed, heartily.
"No. He's chu-chut." She said, as if that would explain the large man.
"Chu-chut's his name? That's interesting." She laughed again.
"No. He's a chu-chut, a thing. He has no name." She shook her head at my ignorance. "He's zombie."
"Zombie?" I asked in disbelief. "Like a real zombie?"
"Sure dat, cher." It took me a moment to translate what she had said to mean something close to `certainly'.
