A Dash of Murder by Teresa Trent Page B

us with Danny, added, “Zachary, do you really want to go through the whole night w ith sticky red stuff all over?”
    “Yuck,” grimaced Danny.
    He droned on. “Mo-om, it’s Halloween. You think they’re going to see littl e fluffy blue bears all night?”
    We walked to the large glass doors and pushed them open into the muggy night.
    “I don’t know, but you don’t have to add to the scar y stuff they will see,” I said.
    “How about you go as one of them s uper heroes?” Aunt Maggie said.
    “I don’t look good in tights.” Zach folded his arms back across his chest in frustration. I hated seeing him do that, because it was a mannerism Barry had been particularly fond of. How could he learn that ges ture if he hadn’t ever met him?
    “Okay, how about going as somethi ng from a video game?” I asked.
    Zach nodded his head slowly in interest with this new idea. “Hmmm, m aybe I could go as … a zombie.”
    “Oh dear, I guess we’re parked on the other side, dearie,” my aunt said. “Get your rest and don’t be too late pic king out just the right getup.”
    “Bye Betsy. Bye Zach,” Danny said. We waved and walked on alone. In an effort to save the town money, the new mayor had deemed the parking lot lights be turned off at 8 p.m. The moonlight shed a weak illumi nation on the trees and bushes.
    “So what do you think of the zombie idea?” Zach continued as we walked in the blackness. A bush to the side stirred. I tried to focus into it through the darkness. The light was too dim for me to see if there was a person next to the bush. This whole paranormal business had me looking at anything that moved in the shadows. Zach had stopped waiting for me to answer. He continued making what he thought was an exceptional bargain .
    “They only have a little blood, you know, if they’ve just eaten someone’s brains or somethin g,” he said as if to assure me.
    “Yeah, yeah,” I said and shrugged. I had seen “Night of the Living Dead” as a kid and couldn’t g et it out of my head for weeks.
    “So can I be a zombie? Please?” Zach put his hands together as if to beg for the last morsel of bread on the planet.
    “I’ll think about it.” I honestly didn’t have a strong enough reaso n to tell him no, but a zombie?
    I had pulled into a space that skirted a bank of trees next to the parking lot. As we approached it, I could see our headlights dim ly lighting the shadowy trunks.
    “Oh no,” I said. Had I actually done this? Had I left my lights on?
     
    “What’s wrong, Mom?”
    I ran to the car and unlocked the door and hopped in. I put the key in the ignition and turned it, only to be greeted with the sound of the syncop ated rhythm of a dying starter.
    Zach listened. “Mom, our car sounds sic k. Try turning the key harder.”
    “And when was it that you got that certific ate in automobile mechanics?”
    “Sorry,” he replied. He waited while I turned the key harder, to no avail. His mind still on the costume, Zach went o n with our former conversation.
    “Okay, here ’s another idea for Halloween.”
    “And what would that be?” I ask ed, sucking in my breath.
    “Get this,” he said. “I want to be a mad scientist.”
    I tried the key one more time, only to be greeted with the same noise, just a little weaker this time. “A mad scientist? That’s it? Well that’s doable.”
    I looked around the parking lot to see if other people were heading out to their cars. It seemed everyone had parked in the front this evening. I wondered if the shadow in the bushes had any jumper cables. I started calculating how late SuperWally would be open if I had to call a tow truck. Too bad I didn’t have a hint in my book for startin g a car with a drained battery.
    “Of course we’ll need to find a chainsaw and so me fake blood,” Zach continued.
    “Excuse me? Did you say a chainsaw? This is starting to sound surprisingly sim ilar to the axe murderer idea.”
    “Uh, he is a MAD scientist