Gail Anderson-Dargatz
20
bed, though I knew I shouldn’t. He needed to
do his own chores. In any case, he didn’t like
me messing with his things. Still, I couldn’t
help myself. I always cleaned house when
I was upset.
When Cody got home from school I was
back sitting at the kitchen table. My mother’s
letter was open in front of me.
“Hey,” he said, closing the kitchen door
behind him. “What’s up, Mom?You okay?You
look kind of out of it.”
I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“I got a package today from Grandma,” I said.
“I’m just trying to sort out what her letter
means.”
“You got a letter from
Grandma
?” Cody
dropped his backpack to the floor and took a
seat at the table. “You’re kidding me.”
“No, for real. Look.” I handed him the
letter. He read it and then picked up the yo-yo.
“Cool,” he said. “My grandma’s a zombie!”
