Page 33 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

“Professor Stover! Oh my god.” Wendall rushed forward and threw his arms around Arthur, hugging him tight.

Trinket scrambled for purchase and pulled her lips back in a hiss.

“Wendall.” Arthur returned the hug, gently slapping Wendall on his back. “I thought that was you, but I’d heard… Well, I’d heard you were dead.”

Releasing the professor, Wendall took a couple of steps back, scratching the back of his head with his gaze firmly planted on his feet. “I… Yeah, that’s true.”

“And yet, here you are.” Arthur swept his hand up and down Wendall’s body. “And you’ve got… Honestly, I’m not certain what that is on your shoulder.”

Trinket fluffed up, appearing twice her size. She hissed once before it turned into a full-blown spat. With her lips curled back, her needlepoint teeth poked out below her fluff.

“Hush, Trinket.” Wendall attempted to placate his pet. “Professor Stover isn’t a threat. He was my history teacher when I was in college. For a short time, I was his teaching assistant. I really loved that position, and…I’m sorry I couldn’t finish my term, Professor.”

“Nonsense.” Arthur waved Wendall off. “It’s not like you didn’t have a good reason.”

“Yeah, I suppose death kind of fills the bill.”

“Indeed, it does.” Arthur moved closer.

My skin tingled with alarm. I didn’t want him touching Wendall again, and yet I had no claim to do more than stand there and stew.

Thankfully, Trinket wasn’t mollified and made her position clear. As Arthur moved in, Trinket lunged, opening her maw wide and snapping.

“Trinket!” Wendall was shocked. He’d never seen this side of the little scuttlebutt.

“Oh.” Arthur stepped back, nervously laughing the incident off. “It doesn’t look like she likes me much.”

While Wendall tried to calm Trinket, Arthur’s lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed, his gaze near murderous when he stared at the hissing bit of fluff on Wendall’s shoulder.

Deciding I’d been silent long enough, I shifted just enough to draw the professor’s attention. When confronted with an up-close and personal fairy, most humans flinched or, at the very least, took a cautious step back. Arthur did neither.

“Good evening, Professor,” I cordially greeted. “I must say, your attire is much different from the last time I saw you at Dusk.”

Unlike his last visit, Arthur Stover appeared every bit the professor he was this time. Gone were the clothes that didn’t quite fit correctly and obviously weren’t what the man was comfortable in. Instead, Arthur sported a pair of tan khaki pants and a light blue button-down covered in a creamy white sweater. Hardly bar attire.

Arthur’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, his surprise obvious.

“You were here before?” Wendall asked innocently. “Why didn’t you come see me then? Was I not working?”

I wondered if Arthur would deny his previous visit. I could see he was thinking about it. Annoyance flitted through his gaze in waves of irritation. I knew the instant he came to a decision.

With a hesitant and self-deprecating laugh I didn’t believe for an instant, Arthur said, “Busted. I was here a few nights ago. I’d heard a rumor and thought the person they were talking about sounded a lot like you. I was curious, so I came by and checked it out. To be honest, I didn’t know if I should say anything to you or not, so I left. The more I considered it, the more I wanted to see if it really was you and to find out what happened.”

“Oh, I suppose that’s understandable. The situation is a bit unusual.” Wendall fiddled with a glass on top of the pile in his bucket. I didn’t like his dejected, bent shoulders and distant gaze. The Wendall I’d come to know didn’t cower.

“I apologize, Wendall.” Arthur sounded contrite. “I hope my coming here hasn’t caused you undue pain.”

“Oh no.” Wendall perked. “Not at all. Please, don’t concern yourself.”

“I know you’re working, but perhaps I could steal a few moments of your time. I’d like to hear about what happened. If you don’t mind.”

Wendall nodded. “I think that can be arranged. Let me just check in with Johnny first. You can follow me up to the bar.”

For a frustrating moment, I thought Wendall had forgotten me. He hadn’t. “Ray, maybe we can discuss this further later.”

My chest eased. Wendall wasn’t outright refusing me. “Of course. Whenever you’d like.”

The nasty, spiteful fairy in me reached out and stroked Trinket’s fur. The little scuttlebutt leaned into my touch and never once hissed or tried to bite me. I gave Arthur Stover the victorious side-eye, ensuring he saw and noted Trinket’s reaction to me and her acceptance of my touch.

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