The Very Creatively Titled Story: Part 4

It’s time for part four! Aren’t you excited? ~Savy and Ally

Part 4: Zombies and Cheetos

That evening Emily told the police all she knew, about the man and woman at the river, the accident, the threats, and the attempted murder. She told them that she thought it was the same truck as three years ago.

“Are you sure it was the same truck, Emily?” Nathaniel asked.

“Positive. I’m not quite sure how I can tell it’s the same truck, but I know it is.”  She answered.

“There isn’t anything unusual about the truck?”

“Think, Em!” Sam urged. She thought for a few minutes. Was there anything uncommon about the truck?

“The license plate.” She finally realized.

“Do you remember the number?” questioned Nate.

“No, but I do remember that it was bent on the right side. It was like that when he ran us off the road too.” She remembered.

“Did you see the man’s face at all?”

“No, I think he was wearing a fedora, so I couldn’t see his face.”

“A fedora?”

“Yes, but that was all I noticed.”

“What color was it?” Sam asked, and Nathaniel sent him an annoyed glance.

“Black.” She answered.

“Anything else?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then I better get going. Sleep well, and don’t worry. We’ll find him, I’m sure of it.” Sam walked Nathaniel out, and Emily went to get ready for bed. She made sure all of the doors and windows were locked, before climbing into bed. There was no doubt about it now, this was serious.


That Friday, Emily wrinkled her nose as she climbed into her brother’s old pickup truck. Her car was in the shop, and she had been forced to drive her brothers truck, on his day off. He had gotten this truck on their 18th birthday, and it had eternally smelled like guy, sweat, and rotten pickles since. The truck was a mess! It had superhero comic books strewn across the dashboard and seats, an old box of pizza in the backseat, and his customary jar of pickles in the glove box, hence the smell.  Yuck! It grossed her out just driving the Pig Pen, which was her nickname for the truck. She hoped that the person who tried to kill her would have the decency to leave her alone when she was driving this thing. She couldn’t think of a more awful place to die. She pulled into Rover’s Grocer’s, and parked the truck. She walked across the parking lot, towards the sliding doors. Her feet were killing her, as she walked in her new high heels. She was so focused on not wincing, that she didn’t notice Professor Fitzwilliam coming towards her.

“Hello, my dear.” He said in a kind, grandfatherly voice.

“Oh, hi Professor. Imagine, running into you here. How are you today?” She asked politely. She really didn’t have time for talking.

“Oh, fine, fine. Yourself?”

“Well, I had a little bit of a scare in my car on Saturday.”

“Oh dear, I hope you’re alright.”

“Yeah, I was almost run off the road, but I’m fine now.” She answered.

“So unfortunate! What is the world coming to? Well, you know what William Shakespeare says in Hamlet, ‘That it should come to this!’’’

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, good-bye. I must be off, I’m having lunch with King Henry VIII at noon. I hope you have a good day.” With that he walked off. Emily stood staring after him for a moment, wondering at their odd conversation. He was certainly an interesting person to be around. She turned back to her shopping list.


That evening Emily met Zoey for sandwiches at Dilly’s Diner, a retro, 50’s style diner. Zoey waved to her.

“Emily! Over here!” Emily walked to where she sat in a corner booth.

“Hi Zoey, how’s your week been?”

“It’s been fine, how about your’s? I heard you had some trouble on Saturday, is that true?” Emily could tell she was very concerned.

“Yeah, I would have called to tell you about it, but I wanted to tell you in person. How did you find out about it?” Emily wondered.

“How do you think?” Zoey smiled.

“Sam.” Emily stated, and Zoey nodded. Her brother just couldn’t keep his mouth shut, especially around Zoey, he had liked her since they were in third grade. It was pretty ridiculous.  Even after being married she still didn’t understand how men thought.

“So what exactly happened?”

“I was coming home from that party, when the same truck that ran Ross and I off the road pulled out of nowhere.” Zoey gasped.

“Are you sure it was the same one?”

“Positive. He tried to run me off the road, but the Nathaniel pulled onto the road in the patrol car. The guy must have panicked, because he took off.”

“Thank goodness! You weren’t hurt were you?”

“No, but there is more.” Emily told her about the threats.

“I don’t like this Emily, this guy has to be totally sick and twisted. Who knows what he’ll do next?” She shivered.

“It’s okay, Zoe. I’m watching my back and Sam will protect me.” Emily wished she was as confident as she sounded. They talked about happier things for another four hours, before Emily got up to leave.

“I better get home, and make sure the house hasn’t burnt down or something. I’ll see you later, Zoey.”

“Call me if anything else happens.”

“Will do.”

“And remember Emily, I’ll always be there if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Zoe.”


Sam looked at the mess before him, and realized he had to get it cleaned up before Emily got home. If she could see the house right now, she would freak out. Play-doh was all over the table and the floor, and he hadn’t cleaned up Princess’s mess in the bathroom. In the living room, Ava had dumped a bin of toys. The hallway had turned into a huge fort made out of blankets, tape, chairs, stuffed animals, and pillows. Ava had spilled a glass of grape juice in the kitchen, that he still had to clean up. Popcorn was spilled all over the carpet in the living room. He didn’t even want to think about what they had done to the bedrooms. Ava’s room looked like a war zone. He had started to clean it up, but Ava had accidently spilled glitter in Emily’s room, and that took precedence. How did Emily do it? What secret weapon do mothers possess? He looked at his watch. Holy cow! It was 8:00 pm! He better make something for dinner. He started rummaging through the cupboards looking for something to eat. Sam found two pieces of leftover cake and cheetos. It would have to work, because he couldn’t cook.

“Ava, dinner’s done! We’re having cake and cheetos!” Ava came running.

“Cake and cheetos? For dinner? Yay!” She jumped up and down. He set a plate of “dinner” in front of her.

“That’s right! But let’s not mention what we ate to Mommy, okay?” She nodded. “Great! Can you pray for our delicious dinner, Ava?” She said grace, and they ate. After dinner he re-examined the mess, and decided to let Emily clean it up in the morning. He didn’t have a clue where to start, and he certainly didn’t have any mom superpowers. Time to relax! A friend from work had loaned him World War Z, and he was looking forward to watching it.

“Uncle Sam?” Ava asked.

“Yes, honey?”

“What does eccentric mean?” She looked at him with questioning eyes.

“Eccentric? Where did you hear that word?”

“It’s what mom calls that funny old man who has fuzzy eyebrows.”

“Oh. Uh, it’s like a nice way of saying that someone is weird.”

“Are we eccentric?”

Sam looked around at the house, the fort, the dog who had managed to climb onto the table and sit in the cheeto bag, the glitter and cake on Ava’s face, and the half-dressed barbies strewn on the floor.

“Yeah, we’re eccentric.” he popped the disk into the DVD player.

“Hey Ava, how about you go into your room and play with your ponies?” He suggested.

“Okay!” She agreed, and went to play in her room. Perfect, now he could watch his movie. He turned the movie on, and became so enwrapped in the movie, that he was only mildly aware when Ava wandered into the room with her ponies halfway through. When the movie ended, Sam felt jittery. It had been an intense movie. He nearly jumped through the roof when Ava started talking to him.

“Uncle Sam, my tummy hurts.” She complained.

“I thought you went to play in your room, honey.”

“I did, but I got bored. I need medicine.” She groaned and doubled over.

“I don’t know what medicine to give for tummy aches, baby.” She began to wail. Sam was trying to calm her down when the door clicked open. Sam screamed. Was it the zombies?

“What on earth happened here? It looks like a hurricane came through here! What’s wrong with her?” Emily picked Ava up, and began rubbing her back. Ava’s sobs quickly subsided. “Why isn’t she in bed? It’s 9:30, way past her bedtime. And why are you so nervous? You screamed when I opened the door.”

“Mommy, my tummy hurts.” Ava whimpered.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. Let’s get you some medicine.” Emily gave Ava medicine and put her to bed.

“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked.

“I’m not positive. What did you eat for dinner?”

“Uh, food.”

Emily rolled her eyes, “I know that. What kind of food?”

“Cake and cheetos.” He studied his toes.

“Cake and cheetos?! Now I know why she has a tummy ache.”  Emily gave him a good scolding about the proper food to feed children for a few more minutes, before Emily went to get ready for bed. The last thing Sam heard from Emily that night was, “Why is there glitter all over my bed?” Oops! He must have missed the bed.



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