Zelda's Valentine

Zelda Zombie woke up wild with excitement. It was her first Valentine’s Day as a zombie. She had not been very successful as a living person in the romance department and had therefore surmised that she had some great times coming in the hereafter, which was now the here and now.

The big dance was the talk of the town, and Zelda was prepared with a lovely floor length gown in a shade of lavender satin that really set off her pallid complexion. The gown’s long sleeves were practically a guarantee that no arms, at least, would go flying off at an inopportune moment while dancing or necking. Panty hose should keep things together in other areas.

But first, it was time to go out to the mailbox and see how many admirers had left cards and gifts for her enjoyment. Zelda had discovered a liking for chocolate covered gopher brains and had seen a big display of them in the Grave’s Department Store window. She skipped down the path, only dragging one leg slightly in her hurry to retrieve her mail.

Zelda saw her neighbors Lavinia and Elbert headed for their mailboxes as well. Lavinia squealed and gathered her treasures in her arms, chortling as she headed back to her one story trench house. Elbert, on the other hand, flung his hands in the air in his excitement, a mistake, as he then had to use the one still attached to retrieve the other and run back in the house for repairs before he could grab his goodies. Flamboyant sort, Elbert.

The mailbox at the end of Zelda’s driveway loomed, pregnant with possibilities as she approached. Could flowers fit inside? Maybe a tasteful coffin spray? Her hand trembled as she pulled open the little door to see...nothing. She leaned closer, nothing, really? Disappointment threatened to make her fall apart.

Wait; there was something inside, way at the back. A little blue card that said, ‘Roses and red, Violets are blue, I have a big treat, tonight, for you. See you at the dance.’ and it was signed, ‘your secret admirer.’

Once again, she was alight with anticipation. She had to go to her hair appointment, and get it all stuck back in, then maybe she would go pick out a new evening bag in case anything fell off and had to be held onto until she could get to the ladies room and put her face back on. Then a long, relaxing bath and it would be time for the dance.

The afternoon flew, as did Zelda, running errands and getting ready and then it was time to go. She tripped down to the Zombietown Community Center where the disco ball cast its spinning shards of light on the faces of revelers young and old. When Zelda entered, she felt like the queen of the ball, in her beautiful dress, with her hair firmly attached for the evening in a cascade of coffin curls. She swept through the door and into the middle of the dance floor, turning slowly in a circle, waiting for her secret admirer and his promised treat. She saw the mayor and Chompers over by the brain buffet and tasteful blood fountain. The note was in her bag for luck, worn at the creases already from the many times she had folded and unfolded it to bask in the warmth of her admirer’s sweet words and poetry.

At first, nobody approached her and she began to worry. What if he couldn’t come, what if his leg got caught on the bus, or he bumped his head getting out of a cab and had to go have it sewn back on? What if he had changed his mind? She was almost worked up enough to start shedding nails when a small child came up and handed her yet another note.

She opened it, and it said ‘Violets are blue, Roses are red, Don’t you be thinking that I’ve lost my head, look behind you.’

He was a mind reader. She turned and, right behind her, was the handsome news anchor Grief Abandon. She had heard that he and Zanku Kitty had broken up sometime after their parade-announcing gig, but she had no idea he even knew who she was. There he was, in his baby blue tux, holding out his arms to her, almost all his fingers intact. She stepped into his arms and he swung her out onto the dance floor, almost but not quite leaving the bottom half of her behind. She thanked providence for the suspenders holding her bra to her pantyhose that helped her keep it together.

The tall zombie swept her around the floor in a mad whirl that made her head spin, a couple of times. He bent to place his lips to her ear and she heard ‘oops,” before he patted the ear back in place. It was so romantic.

The evening passed in a dizzying swirl of dancing and flirting. She really was the belle of the ball and all the fellows cut in to have a dance with her. Then, when the band was playing “Good Night, Irene,” they change the song to “Good Night, Zelda.” And Grief asked if she would see him again, and then kissed her on the lips, and nothing got mushed or squished.

When she had gotten home and changed into her comfy graveclothes, Zelda Zombie knelt by the side of her bed to say her prayers. And while images of her evening as Cinderella danced through her mind, she prayed that her prince, Grief, would have pleasant dreams until the next time he held her in his arms, or whatever he had handy.