The Defenestration of Prague
[A Zombie Days mess]
Family can be whatever you want it to be.
– A Home at the End of the World
#1. Call Me, Call Me, Anytime…
#2. Hide and Go Seek
#3. Down to the Dirt of It
#4. Phone-A-Friend
Dylan spent a longer time than usual in the shower, letting the extra hot-hot water beat out the kinks and knots born of her recent frustrations. When he returned to her bedroom to find some clean clothes, Marshall was still asleep, clutching one of her pillows to his chest. His face was buried in it, and she thought he might actually be chewing on the end of one corner. Dylan wondered if there was any space left on the card in her camera; this was certainly a picture for the scrapbook.
But, she decided against it. She didn’t want to wake Marshall and she’d have to find her camera first. Dylan found a clean polo shirt and a mostly clean pair of blue jeans before leaving Marshall to his sleep.
After she got dressed, she found herself flipping channels on the TV, and when she found nothing more than infomercials and the 24 news service, she headed out to the garage to go have some quality time with her dog. At least, Abigail never required people things. Dog things were so much easier than people things.
When she opened the door to the garage, Dylan was immediately pounced upon by sixty pounds of golden retriever.
“It’s okay Gabby-girl. It’s okay. It’s okay. I know, I know; you missed me.”
Dylan shut the door behind her with one hand, the other playing with her dogs head. When the door was closed, Dylan sat down on the concrete step, and furiously started rubbing and scratching her dog.
After a few minutes, Abigail had calmed down a bit and laid her head on Dylan’s leg, content to be scratched just behind her right ear.
Dylan let her inner self go, and sat in the quiet of her garage, letting the action of petting Abigail calm her.
She pulled out her phone, and the little screen on it read 6:02 o’clock in the AM. Dylan flipped her cell phone open and called Brian.
Dylan waited as the phone went through a few sets of rings before a voice answered. “Hello.”
“Hey, honey, it’s Dylan.”
She could feel the surprise through the phone lines. “It can’t be.”
“Why not?” She smiled; it was good to hear Brian’s voice.
“Too early,” was the automatic reply.
“Well, too bad. I see you are unlawfully bright and cheery this morning.”
“Hey!”
Before Brian could ask her why she has called him, she launched into her predetermined spiel.
“Can you come over to the house?”
“Er, I suppose so.”
“Please, pretty please. I got locked out, and Abbie’s stuck in the garage, and I can’t find the spare key. Please, Brian, my favorite guy in the world, please, save us.” There was no chance for him to butt in, and she knew the moment she said it that the mention of Abbie has clinched the deal.
She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. “Sure. You cooking breakfast.”
“You coming to eat breakfast if I do?”
“See you in thirty.” Brian replied.
Dylan did a little victory dance [that suspiciously resembled something she had seen in a Chex Mix commercial]; now all that remained to be done was to wake up Marshall.
