Russel Middlebrook: Double Feature Part 16

"Okay," said Russel. "So I have another question." "What's that?" said Em.

"Who do we think is turning the school into zombies? The princ.i.p.al, the janitor, or the school nurse?" By now, everyone else had figured out as much of the plot as I had.

"The school nurse?" said Em. "You mean Nurse Busty?"

"She's not that bad," said Gunnar.

"You would say that!" said Em wryly.

"What?" he said cluelessly. "No, wait, I'm not attracted to big b.o.o.bs."

She whacked him on the arm. "Thanks! Thanks a lot!"

84 "It's probably the janitor," said Russel.

This made me perk up. Russel thought the villain was the janitor?

"I think so too," said Em.

"Yeah," said Gunnar. "I totally think it's the janitor."

"Wait," I said, surprised. "You guys all think it's the janitor?" How was this possible? Russel, Gunnar, and Em were all supposed to be smart !

They all nodded or shrugged.

"There is no way it's the janitor," I said. "It's either the nurse, or someone completely different-maybe the captain of the football team."

"Min," said Russel. "In a nutsh.e.l.l? You're nuts."

"I am not!"

"Sorry, Min," said Em, "but Russel's right. It's the janitor."

"But what about the fact that the nurse is giving them all flu shots?" I said. "That's how she's turning the students into zombies!"

"It's a red herring," said Russel. "There's a reason they have the janitor acting all macho."

"That's the red herring!" I exclaimed. "It can't be the janitor. It's always the janitor!" Telling Russel about Leah could wait. For the time being, I had to convince him and the others that it was Nurse Busty who was turning the students of our new high school into monsters-"brain 85 zombies" or otherwise. The next day, Thanksgiving, I had an early dinner with my family. My mom wore a sweater with a turkey on it that simply had to be seen to be believed. Afterward, I drove over to Gunnar's, where he, Em, Russel, and Otto were having a little Thanksgiving dinner of their own. Once again, I was somewhat preoccupied by the whole situation with Leah, but I confess, I had a very nice time.

At one point, I excused myself to go use the bathroom. The door opened, and the smell of cheap potpourri wafted out from inside. I'm not a big fan of potpourri, even the expensive stuff, but when it comes to bathrooms, I guess it's better than the alternative.

Otto stepped out.

"Oh," I said. "Hey."

"Hey, Min!" he said.

Otto was a friend of mine from summer camp, but I hadn't spent any time alone with him since he'd arrived the day before. "It's so great you came to visit," I said. "Russel's really excited."

"You think?"

86 I was surprised he said this. Then again, Russel had been a little distracted at dinner. Was something going on between them?

"He is," I said. "Trust me."

Otto leaned back against the wall in the hallway. "I was so p.i.s.sed when Russel's parents found out about me. I thought I'd have to cancel." Russel's parents had refused to let Otto stay with them, so he'd ended up staying with Gunnar.

"Are you excited about the movie shoot tomorrow?" I asked. Russel had arranged for Otto to be an extra too.

Otto thought for a second. "Yeah," he said. "Part of me wishes Russel and I could be alone. But I know Russel really wants to do it. Are you having fun?"

"On the movie?"

He nodded.

Was I having fun on the movie? I honestly didn't know. The past few weeks had all been about Leah. I had barely paid any attention to everything else going on around me.

"Sure," I said. "I guess so."

"What?"

I sighed. "Well, it's complicated."

"Too complicated to talk about just pa.s.sing someone in a hallway, huh?" 87 I laughed. "Yes, I think so." "Yeah," he said. "I know what you mean." He thought for a second. "But I have an idea."

"Yes?"

"Let's give each other some advice."

"Advice? What kind of advice?"

"Just . . . advice."

"But we don't even know each other's problems," I protested.

He winked at me. "That's why this is such a great idea."

"Okay. But you have to go first."

He thought again, then said, " 'Before you run in double harness, look well to the other horse.' "

"What?" I said, laughing out loud. "Where did that come from!"

"I don't know," said Otto, smiling. "I just always liked the way it sounded. Besides, it's good advice."

"I guess it is-if you live in a Charles d.i.c.kens novel."

Otto kept smiling. "Well?"

"Well what ?" I said.

"Does it help you with your problem?"

I had to think about it. Here's the thing. It fit the situation with Leah perfectly.

88 I stopped laughing. "Yes, actually. What do you know about that?"

"So?" he said. "What's your advice for me?" It was a little dis...o...b..bulating how comfortable I felt talking to Otto. It immediately reminded me of being with Russel. I recalled how at camp I'd felt that way around Otto too; the two of them were so much alike that being with one was almost like being with the other. They were both sensitive and funny and so very clever. They were also emotional and pa.s.sionate, but still very much optimistic about life. Mostly, though, they were both just fun to be around.

"Give Russel a break," I said at last. "I don't know why he's been distracted, but don't worry. He really, really loves you. And G.o.d, is he the right guy for you." "Wait," he said, laughing. "That doesn't count. That's real advice!"

"I know," I said, turning for the bathroom. "But I still think it's good."

I was dreading the next day, Friday, when we'd go back to shooting the movie. I'd seen Leah on the set the previous Sunday, but we had barely talked since Sat.u.r.day night when we'd run into her friends on McKenzie Street. I had no idea what I was going to say to her, or if I should even 89 say anything. Friday was the day they finally turned us into full-fledged zombies. They made me up as a zombiecheerleader, with rotting green skin and bloodstained pom-poms. As zombies go, I looked amazing, but I couldn't enjoy it, because I was preoccupied with Leah.

I was the last person out of makeup, so when I finally got to the set, they had already finished shooting the first scene. The second shot of the day was another view of the hallway outside the princ.i.p.al's office. When I got there, I saw that they had made Leah up as a zombie-band geek. They'd even given her a bent flute.

This was ironic. I was the cheerleader, and she was the geek. It also meant that if they did things the way they always had before, they would cl.u.s.ter us together with the other members of our cliques: cheerleader with cheerleader, band geek with band geek. In other words, I wouldn't have to spend the whole day standing next to her. In other other words, I was avoiding her again. With all the avoiding that I'd been doing lately, I felt like I was back in the seventh grade.

Careful not to make eye contact with Leah, I joined Russel, Otto, Em, and Gunnar.

The director explained how we extras were just sup 90 posed to trudge back and forth in front of the door to the princ.i.p.al's office. This time, however, a puddle of blood slowly seeps out from the crack under the entrance. The students at the school, full-fledged zombies now, take no notice of it, and slog right across the growing pool, smearing b.l.o.o.d.y streaks and planting red footsteps up and down the hall.

Clearly something horrible had happened behind that door. Had the princ.i.p.al killed someone, proving that it was he who was responsible for turning the school into zombies? Or perhaps some zombie had killed the princ.i.p.al, eliminating him as a suspect completely. As extras, we weren't privy to the scene behind the door. Any screams, meanwhile, would be added later, in looping, so I had no way of knowing whose blood was on the floor.

We did the first take. I pa.s.sed right by Leah, but we were both in zombie mode, so I didn't have to acknowledge her. The fake blood on the floor smelled oddly sweet, like the frosting on a birthday cake.

"Excellent!" said the director when we were done. "Now let's do it again!"

Doing another take, however, meant cleaning up the mess we'd made on the floor-not to mention replacing all of our now-b.l.o.o.d.y shoes. Something told me we weren't going to be doing fifteen takes of this particular 91 scene. While production a.s.sistants mopped up all the blood, other a.s.sistants gave each of us a box of new tennis shoes. Leah was already changing her shoes at one end of a row of folding chairs. I sat down next to Russel at the opposite end of the row.

"So this either proves it's the princ.i.p.al, or it eliminates him completely," I said to him.

"What?" he said. "Min, there's no way it's the princ.i.p.al. I already told you, it's the janitor."

"Personally, I still think it's the nurse," I said. "Or the captain of the football team."

Russel laughed. "It's the janitor! Trust me, Min. There's a reason why we shot that scene in the computer lab."

"It's not the janitor!" I expostulated. "What about whatever's locked in the nurse's closet?"

"Your skin is coming unglued," said Russel.

"What?" Was this some kind of new insult?

"Seriously," he said. "Your peeling zombie skin? It's peeling all the way off."

I reached up to feel my face. He was right. I was losing one of the little patches of green skin that they'd glued to my face to make it look like I was rotting.

92 "I'd go to makeup and have them reattach it," said Russel. He nodded toward the still-messy floor. "You've got plenty of time. They're not done cleaning." "Okay," I said. "But this isn't over. When I get back, we're going to have this out once and for all."

Russel rolled his eyes. I stood up and proceeded toward the makeup department.

I turned a corner and immediately found myself face to face with Leah. I thought she'd still be back changing her shoes, but she must have gone to the bathroom.

"Uh, hi," she said.

"Oh," I said. "Hi."

She fidgeted, looking as edgy as I felt. Why had I listened to Russel about going to makeup? He'd managed to get me mixed up with Leah yet again. This time, however, I didn't want to have anything to do with her.

"Just so I'm clear," said Leah. "You're avoiding me, right?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Oh. Well, thanks for being honest."

"It's not you," I said. "It's me." I thought about what I'd just said. "Wait, that sounds like I'm breaking up with you."

"Breaking up?" said Leah. "I didn't even know we were going out."

I smiled. "You haven't been a lesbian very long, have you? You're never supposed to know when you're going out 93 with someone."

"Wouldn't you have to know?" she said. "Wouldn't there be, like, kissing? Candlelight dinners and sweet nothings whispered in the ear?"

"Like I said, you really haven't been a lesbian very long!"

At that, she laughed. The lightened mood made me laugh too.

"Anyway," I went on, "I am avoiding you, but it's not because I don't want to see you."

"Um," said Leah, confused. "Okay."

I shook my head. "I had no idea this would be so complicated." I tried again. "I do want to keep seeing you. I just wanted to think about what we've talked about. Get a sense of how I feel about everything. I didn't know what to say to you-as you can kind of tell from this conversation right now, I might add. Anyway, that's why I was avoiding you."

"Ah," she said. "That makes sense. Well, now that the avoiding-me thing is shot to h.e.l.l, any chance you want to come over to my house to watch DVDs after the shoot?" "Unquestionably," I said.

94 Leah's bedroom wasn't what I was expecting at all.

She had framed movie posters on the walls, from monster flicks like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Cat People. She also had one of Princess Leia from the original Star Wars, but not in a metal bikini. She had shelves and shelves of books-almost all science fiction and fantasy. She had good taste too: excellent books by Jacqueline Carey, Octavia Butler, and George R. R. Martin; graphic novels from Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore; and bound reprintings of old EC and DC Comics.

For knickknacks, she had dragons and plastic figurines of cla.s.sic monsters like Wolfman and Frankenstein. Not a pony or Barbie anywhere in sight. Her room was dark, but not drab; clean, but not neatfreaky; and quirky, but not cluttered. It smelled like lavender-real lavender-but I couldn't find the source. The bed had been made, but only very loosely.

In short, it was the bedroom of someone who, if I didn't know her, I would really want to know. That made me think that she hadn't been lying when she'd said that the Leah I knew was the "real" one, not the girl who hung out with her cheerleader friends.

By now she had closed the door to her bedroom. On the back, there was a big poster of Xena and Gabrielle from the TV series Xena: Warrior Princess. 95 "Oh, my G.o.d!" I said. "You are a lesbian!" "You weren't sure?" said Leah. "And you can tell that from my Xena poster?"

I gave her the fish-eye. "You're kidding, right?"