Life With A Werewolf

Halloween Holiday Joyless Ride

Sometimes life just sucks.

We all have different ways to say it, though it boils down to that one phrase. Life. Just. Sucks. In the military, we pretty much summed it up into the letters: F.M.L. F@$K My Life! A curse that is uttered against your very existence in that moment and the ever-mounting problems that seem to always surround those of us who serve, especially when it’s filled with pointless “fun” runs - joyless exercises that are mostly just exercises in patience, and the ever present company ass chewing, usually dolled out to inflict punishment on everyone for the crimes of a few. That number in general usually being less than five individuals who had taken it upon themselves to do something stupid. Like drinking and driving. Not showing up to work on time. Leaving their equipment in the motorpool a mess. Whatever.

I no longer had any of those problems to deal with. Didn’t have to worry about cleaning vehicles meticulously so they could sit out in the motorpool on parade, side by side, like so many Lamborghinis and Ferraris hanging out at Leno’s Garage. No, I did have other issues however that were intent on ruining my entire day. Such as a Kamikaze Lawn Gnome trying to kill my car.

The day started out normal. I got up, grabbed a shower, some coffee, and started to head out to do some running around: go to the bank, get some groceries, that sort of thing. A typical mundane day. I backed out of the driveway, like normal. Wasn’t paying much attention to the lawn, because let’s be honest, who really watches the lawn when they’re backing away from it. So, I didn’t see the lawn gnome coming upon me or my car, though I did hear a tiny shout of victory as I waited for a truck to pass, as if Jerry Mouse had finally killed Tom. As I began to back out into clear traffic, I heard a shout of agony as if Jerry Mouse had finally been crushed by Tom. And finally, the familiar sound of a tire popping. At least this time they didn’t puncture my damn brake master cylinder.

Naturally, I pulled back into the driveway, to see just what had happened. When I saw the lawn gnome half crushed in the drive way, and my tire side wall punctured by what looked like another tiny stone knife, I sadly had to back over the rest of the lawn gnome to park my car to change the tire. But woudn’t you know it, it must have taken me five times to find just the perfect spot to change my tire. Poor little guy.

As I was putting on my spare, another bold S.O.B. crawled up to the other side of my car, pulled a break line on the front passenger wheel, then crawled away. Luckily there was still the parking brake. It kind of worked, however those kinds of “find a soft target” decisions aren’t a lot of fun to make when you’re going thirty miles an hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic in town and suddenly you need to go zero.

All of these are easy problems to solve, honestly. Get a used tire (a side wall puncture is not something that can be repaired, sadly), reconnect the brake line, get more fluid. Get the guys at the tire shop to bleed the brakes for me, (yay more money down the drain), and finally just get the groceries I wanted to get in the first place. All of this before noon. So, today was already off to a fantastic start. It was only going to get better.

So, of course since I’ve already had to deal with lawn gnomes today, I would have to deal with rogue zombies as well. After my trip to the bank, I ran inside the grocery store to pick up a couple things. After that morning, beer was definitely on the menu. Crash would complain, but after that glorious start to the day, including having tiny plaster people with a pension for pointy hats try and kill me, I figured I deserved it. When the door was cracked open, it released a stench that was so powerful, it could be tasted more than smelled. Sitting in the back seat, as if they were Ms. Daisy and I was the reliable driver, was the corpse of someone I hadn’t known in life. They were wearing their best suit, from the waist up, though hadn’t been buried with pants. I guess I understand, after all, if your loved one’s in a coffin, why spring for the full suit when the showing will only be from the waist up? It’s not like their body is going to dig itself out of the grave a few days later and climb into some stranger’s car right?

The skin had faded into a moldy, green color. The teeth wasn’t yellow, though it definitely was a few shades darker than pure white. What was left of their hair pointed out at all angles, as if modeled after the hair style of some mad scientist. This being waved at me as if we were old friends, with it’s dead naked ass sitting on the cloth seats in the back. “Oh, hell no,” I shouted, as I opened the car door. “No! Not today whoever you used to be. Get out of my car. Out!”

The zombie blinked at me at first, shocked as if it was a puppy who had just been smacked for the first time for doing something bad. It blinked in surprise, tried to hiss something at me. I could tell it wanted to ask a question, like “why are you throwing me out here?” Though all that came out was “ehhh?”

“Because!” I shouted back, “you stink, and I’m not nearly drunk enough for this. Get out! The dead don’t ride with me. OUT!”

I moved my three grocery bags to my right hand and opened the door with the other, glaring as I waited for the creature from the deep of the black grave side manor to climb out, with a look as if it had just been smacked with a rolled-up newspaper for being bad. I growled something under my breath, (which won’t be printed here. I am trying to cut down on my F bombs, honest!), and got back in the car, then opened the door again. It stared forlorne through window. I never knew until that day that the dead could ever resemble a kitten who’d been thrown out into the rain with no home to go to. The smell, which was ripe enough, was not dissipating. I quickly rolled down my window and started the car. The dead guy still stared at me, with the most pathetic look possible. I put it in gear, looked back to back up, then threw it in park. “Fine!” I shouted at it, in the voice every one of us gives a pet when they’ve gotten their way. “Get in. And lay down, cause I don’t want the neighbors to think I’ve gone insane and become a necrophiliac.”

The zombie opened the door and sat back down, did it’s own version of grumbling under its breath, then laid down. It must have thought it was undignified to be hidden in the backseat like this or something. He wouldn’t be the one shampooing out the seats for the next month trying to kill the damn smell, though. So I felt no pity. The trip home had taken just under thirty minutes, but it felt like four hours. I have driven military trucks before for hours running on three days of no sleep. I’d rather do that again, with all of the bullets flying at me being thrown in than do that drive with the zombie.

Now, Gary is one of our normal friends. He doesn’t have any idea about the werewolf thing, is a gearhead who loves older econoboxes and station wagons, and can sit and talk for hours about such things. An older gentleman type with a pleasant smile, a halo of hair around his head, and glasses thick enough to make certain types of lasers. As I pulled into the drive way and saw his happy wave and small poodle I groaned. Normally I enjoy a small conversation about my Topaz and whatever hidden treasure he happened to dig up. But today, just was NOT the day.

“Hey!” He said, smiling as he wandered over.

“Hi!” I shouted back, a little too loud, hoping the dead guy would hear and try to hide a bit better. Throwing the door open, I jumped to my feet, and raced over to Gary, smiling. “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it!” I said, subtly wandering away from the car.

“Yeah, I guess.” Gary said, confused. His confusion was probably because we had just spoken the day prior, him talking about Bessy, his car, and Betsy his wife. Gary currently owns a 1992 Buick Regal Grand Sport. A steal, he says, he picked up in a barn find with an interior mostly intact. Including all of the plastic wood, “made from the finest plastic trees,” he said with a grin.

“I just noticed you had a spot of trouble this morning.” He replied, trying to walk closer to the car.

My heart sank as his feet kept wandering closer to seeing the dead guy in the back seat. Is it legal to knock your neighbor over the head so he doesn’t see your corpse hitch hiker? “Well, just some neighbor kids playing a prank,” I chuckled. “Got a flat tire. Had to get it replaced. The tire place also had to reattach a brake hose or something that apparently worn loose. No big deal.”

Concern painted over Gary’s face. “Kind of a big deal.” He started walking closer to the car. “Brake fluid is flammable you know. Did any of it…”

“No, it’s fine. Besides,” I interrupted, grabbing his shoulder a bit and started walking him towards the other side of our yard. My car is parked on the south side of the property. On the other side is Crash’s, as well as Shawn’s, Kris’, and Zacks. Each one having a vehicle befitting their personality. “Crash just had to get a new rag top installed on his caddy,” I said. Which wasn’t technically a lie. “You might want to see that thing now.”

Gary laughed, “seen one caddy, seen a thousand. Now, your Topaz, THAT’S a find.” He tried to wander his way back towards my car. My heart skipped a beat when he stopped, as if he had been smacked. “Smells like something crawled in it and died though. You might want to look at that. From the stench, something big, phew!” He gave a few waves in front of his nose to emphasize the stench.

“Yeah,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I’m kind of embarrassed by it.”

“Kids again?” He asked.

I nodded. “Kids. Scoundrels are just,”

Gary laughed. “Yeah, don’t get me started. Though, they grow out of it.” His face grew more serious as he leaned towards me as if telling some ancient secret. “Say, I’ve been meaning to ask you. There’s apparently a rather large dog around here, I almost mistook it for a bear. It seems to be running around your property at night.”

I shrugged. “That’s strange.” If only he knew.

“Yeah, just wanted you to be aware. Don’t want you or Crash or anyone to get attacked. Especially Crash. That poor guy has a run of bad luck it seems.” Gary smiled, then patted me on the back. “Well, good luck. If you need help, just let me know.” He said, then, thankfully, wandered back in the direction of his house.

I ran back to my car. The thing was still in the back seat. “When I get back out here, you better be gone,” I growled. I ran inside, put my few things away, then ran back out, to find dead guy still sitting in the seat, upright now, and waving joyfully at me as if it hadn’t seen me in years. “What, you want to go to the cemetary or something?” It nodded. “Great!” I snapped, then jumped back in, threw the car in drive, and raced down the street far faster than any Mercury Topaz was ever meant to travel. I didn’t see if Gary saw anything, though he never mentioned it later. But who knows. As I pulled into the local cemetary, I looked around. The coast was clear. Throwing open the back door, I pointed and shouted in as stern of a voice as possible, “out!” The thing that was, well, whoever it was, crawled out, looked at me and gave me a thumbs up, then sauntered off. I still have no idea what exactly that was, but now I have a stench in my car that doesn’t seem to be going away and the nauseating image of a half-dressed corpse laying in my backseat with maggots crawling around in crevices I never wanted to think about on a corpse.

So, excuse me while I go take four showers and drink myself into oblivion. I think I deserve it after today.