Page 57 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

Trinket remained silent, and I got the feeling she was napping. The scuttlebutt didn’t view me as a threat.

Clearing his throat, Wendall’s gaze danced around the bar, looking anywhere but at me. “I don’t need any more time, but I do think Muriel was right about yesterday.”

“Hmm, it is fortunate then that I chose to heed her advice.”

Wendall’s feet shifted, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. I began doubting the sincerity of his words. “Do you wish me to leave?” I wanted to do anything but, and yet I would if Wendall wished it. I had no desire to cause him distress.

“What? No! I mean, no, I don’t want you to leave. I… It’s just a surprise, that’s all. I thought you might show up earlier, and I kept looking around but didn’t see you, so I just kind of thought…” Wendall ended in a shrug.

That sounded infinitely better. Wendall had been looking for me, and if I read the situation correctly, he’d been disappointed by my absence. Pushing up from my chair, I left my glass where it was.

Wendall’s gaze remained fixed on it, and his lips twisted with thought.

“The glass bothers you?” I speculated.

“No, not really. It’s just that I finished cleaning everything, and now there’s one more that’s dirty.”

“I do not believe Johnny would be dismayed by this fact, and Leon was the one that poured my drink, so he is very well aware. Still, if it disturbs you, I can wash it myself.”

“No, that’s silly. It’s just a glass, and I can get it tomorrow before my shift starts.”

I didn’t like the thought of Wendall cleaning up after me, but I let it go and got down to the reason I was here. “I would like to spend some time with you. If you’re not too tired.” It was the end of Wendall’s shift. It would be insensitive not to consider his fatigue.

“I’m not too tired,” Wendall answered and then scrunched up his nose. “But I probably smell. Trinket and I both do. I’m not so sure you want to be in close quarters with us right now.”

Now that I was closer, I detected a faint, unfamiliar odor coming from Wendall and, presumably, Trinket. It wasn’t his usual scent of antibiotic ointment and underlying decay. It smelled of dirty dishwater.

“Would you like to shower first? I do not mind, but if it would make you more comfortable—”

“Yes.” Wendall eagerly bobbed his head. “If you don’t mind waiting.”

“It is no hardship,” I assured.

“Okay.” Again, Wendall’s gaze traveled the bar. “Do you want to wait down here or…?” His head tilted toward the stairs.

“I do not mind waiting in your apartment as long as you are comfortable with that.”

“Oh.” Wendall nervously waved me off. “That’s fine. It won’t take me long to shower. The bandaging will take a little longer, though.”

“Perhaps I can be of assistance.” It had been a few days since I’d been able to take stock of Wendall’s condition. It would be wise to take advantage of the situation.

“If you want,” Wendall murmured, his words barely audible.

“I want,” I reassured and followed Wendall up the stairs and into his small apartment.

I settled on the love seat while he made a beeline for his bedroom and the adjoining bathroom. Soon, I heard the sound of the shower turning on, and I settled in, resting while I waited.

True to his word, it didn’t take Wendall long to shower. He exited in a cloud of steam wearing a loose pair of basketball shorts, a towel draped over his shoulders, and a soaking-wet Trinket in his arms.

“She’s still pretty wet.” Wendall grinned.

His teeth weren’t exactly straight, but I suspected he’d had braces as a child, and they’d done an admirable job.

Trinket scurried out from under the towel Wendall had thrown over her and shook like a dog. Her fur puffed out, and Wendall threw his head back and laughed. The sound was musical and filled the dead spaces lurking deep within. Now that I’d found such a joyful sound, I couldn’t imagine living without it again. Would it even be living at that point?

Wendall’s easy delight was infectious, but it didn’t cover the myriad of deteriorating skin splotched over his body. At a quick glance, there were well over a dozen, maybe two, and that was just on the front. I had little doubt the back of his body was much better.

Unable to hide my gaze, Wendall’s amusement faded. “It’s a lot worse. I know.” He scratched the back of his neck, his posture full of shame.

---