“Would you tell me about it?”
“Sure. Are you going to use this in your story?”
“Yes, probably.”
Mama stared at him for a moment. “Don’t journalists usually have a notepad or something?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Chris got up feeling his face turn red and ran into his bedroom to grab the moleskin out of his backpack. He grabbed a pen off the desk on his way out.
Katrina was becoming more comfortable with Chris and what he was trying to accomplish in Forest Hills. In the beginning she wanted to avoid talking about things that happened to other people; now she just sat back in her chair to listen to Mama tell her story. Katrina had never heard the details of this encounter, only the need to know facts from her parents.
Once Chris was settled and Mama felt his pen was perched high enough she began: “ I assume you know that I once had neighbors.” Chris nodded. “ Well, one night I was home just reading or baking, or was I painting? No, I was definitely reading.” She swatted the air in front of her face as if to shoo an invisible fly. “Anyways, I heard some commotion in the stairwell so I looked through the peephole to get a better look and it was Jane, my neighbor. She was screaming and chicken, the look on her face...She was terrified. She was being chased. She banged on my door—because it’s the closest from the stairwell—I opened it without taking the chain off and saw that her hands were covered in blood, she had scratches all over her neck and shoulders.” Mama stopped for a moment. It looked like she was going to start to cry, but she was only collecting her thoughts. “I couldn’t let her in, the poor baby, I just couldn’t—for my own safety. I told her ‘I’m sorry baby. Please forgive me. God bless.’ And I shut the door. I moved the vanity in front of the door and made my way towards the emergency roof escape. I heard her scream all the way to her apartment down the hall while running footsteps followed her.”
Chris jotted down random points of Mama’s story that he thought would be crucial to putting the story back together on paper. He didn’t ask any questions because he just wanted to listen to Mama. She had such a soothing voice and manner. It went straight to the heart and filled your whole body as if you were being wrapped in a down comforter from the inside. Without wanting the soup to go cold, everyone took random bites in between pauses in the story.
“She managed to get into her apartment and shut out the infected. But she was now infected and she turned almost immediately after she entered the apartment. I heard a commotion next door followed by one gunshot, then another and another for three in total. She attacked her two children before her husband could make it into the living room with the gun. I think that’s the day that Jerrid lost a part of his soul with his family, but he had no choice. It’s all about self-preservation.”
“You mean Jerrid was your next-door neighbor?”
“Yes chicken. He was such a good kid until that day but after that he became a man. He made it his mission to rid Forest Hills of the infected ones killing all of our loved ones. Don’t get me wrong; he is still a wonderful person, but it’s deep down inside him and only bits of sunshine glimmer out of his eyes sometimes.”
“They didn’t want you? I mean they couldn’t smell you or something?” Chris asked.
“Oh, they probably could have, but once they hone in on their ‘prey’ its pretty much tunnel vision. Besides, Jerrid killed anyo—anything that was in that corridor.”
“And no one has been back in that apartment since?”
“No.” Mama shook her head and took a small bite of bread. “Jerrid removed the bodies and cleaned the place out. No one’s been back but I’m sure in a few months or years I will have neighbors again.”
“So, how do you know that people weren’t murdering other people out of cold blood and saying that they were infected?”
Katrina who had been impartial to the conversation raised her eyebrows at Mama. This question impressed her in a sense. No one had thought to ask that—out loud at least.
“Well, I suppose that would have been possible for the ones that were infected by only a scratch or so. I guess you just have to have faith in the people that you share a town with. I would never think that anyone in Forest Hills would do something like that.”
Chris nodded in satisfaction.
“Well…” Katrina smacked her legs and stood up, pushing the chair out with her calves. “Are we ready to go?”
“Yes, you children go and I’ll take care of these dishes!” Mama exclaimed.
“Are you sure? I can help clean—“ Chris was brought up to always offer a hand in the home he was visiting.
“Go, go gooo.” Mama shooed them out the door, barely giving Katrina a chance to grab her purse off the kitchen counter. Luckily Chris was already holding onto his notebook.
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