ZAX IN CLASS
1st November, 2013
Zax rested his head on his elbows in front of a blank page of the workbook. He looked around the room at the other boys and girls, some scratching their desks with the leads of their pencils, others rocking their chairs on their hind legs. All falling into the dull rhythm of the cogs of the clock as they turn to tick away the time. All the more he was convinced that there is no nine-year-old in that corner of Putnam Public School who did not wish that they could be somewhere else. Ordinary kids would have preferred to sit with the other Third Graders who are either carving pumpkins in Mr. Barrett’s Craft class or listening to Ms. Hennessey tell the story of Ichabod Crane in English class. Ms. Hennessey has a garnered a reputation for being a great storyteller, you see. Any other day of the year is good for her staples but this day deserves her very best. Because nothing is more effective in bringing schoolchildren to rapt attention, sitting at the edge of their desks, than a good old ghost story told on Hallows’ Eve. The same does not hold true for Zax, but he cannot argue that any would be much better than working out his multiplication and division in Mr. Pruitt’s Math’s class.
If anyone would only ask where he most wanted to be, Zax would readily say, ‘Home’. On Valentine’s Day, the young zombie had taken a quest to learn about being human. It was a lonely road that would have been lonelier if Voodoug had not kept him company. Now, for the first time in eight months, he will be coming home for the annual Zombie Family Halloween reunion. Barely able to contain his excitement, he closed his eyes and imagined how it would be like in his great-great-great-grandparent’s Estate once more for the event every Zombie looks forward to all-year round, heralded by the familiar-