I woke, if you can use the word, in a coffin. It was a bit like putting on a hated, awkward set of clothes. Nothing fit. Nothing was right. After getting my bearings a bit I pushed the lid, and it lifted smoothly. Then I had to deliberately tighten the muscles in the stomach to sit up and be able to look about. It was some sort of mourning chapel, the only sounds were some distance away. It was a bare and pedestrian sort of place. Small, characterless, seemingly tucked away to be ignored.
There was a not to be ignored pull. The urgency was... desperate. Right. Someone had summoned a zombie and for lack of better alternatives I was to play the part. Problem was, I’m an incorporeal spirit. So whose was this body? So disrespectful. I hate voodoo. More so now.
The pull was strong though. I could put it off but not for long.
The body was old. Short and overweight. All kinds of things wrong with it. I silenced myself and listened and looked about inside. Anybody home? Deafening silence. Any memories? Just vague feelings, sounds of children, grandchildren? The feeling of distance, a very long distance covered, and nothing afterwards. Felt like a somewhat boring but fulfilling and very long life. Felt like passed away no end. Sign me up! Right. Back to work.
With a short apology to the previous and very departed owner I took stock of the situation. First, get out of that coffin. Then, follow the pull. Hopefully able to get a little word in with the voodooist. Or necromancer. Or whatever.
In the end I just wiggled the coffin off the plateau and ended up on the floor on its side. Deafening racket but no visitors. Getting up was a puzzle. Just standing took a few minutes to get the hang of, so easy to topple if you forget to pay attention all the time. I felt like a puppet master inside the puppet. The human body is top-heavy, do you know? I pushed the coffin in a corner behind a screen. Barely out of sight, but it would have to do. Ignoring the large entrance door I shuffled to what had to be the behind-the-screen area for ministers, pastors and maybe imams too. No idea what priests of Buddhism are called, would have to look that up, but these rooms were definitely purposed for all possible religions. Odd that. Quickly shuffling to the mirror I braced myself and looked. Just an old face, neatly made up. Unknown, for some reason that felt like relief. White bubble hairdo and incredible wrinkled hands with blue veins crossing the skin everywhere. But it was a face loved by some people, no doubt. It was also decidedly visibly dead. The eyes worked all right but the expression was not there. I tried some angles, moved the head by pulling the left and right neck muscles and it all screamed dead zombie. Trying out the face muscles made it worse, much worse. Talk about rictus! That would never do. I looked around and found a particularly ugly set of sunglasses in what had to be a stash of lost and found. With that I could pass. Barely. But nobody would be on the look-out for a zombie trying to pass, yes? Time to find out. Hoping very hard this body would keep together. At a slow, less-shuffling almost regal pace I set out for the exit.
I’m at an airport. A very large airport late at night. All seemed normal but for my presence and that pull. And it is a maze. Appropriating a walking rack the very first opportunity and avoiding clearly lighted areas with the odd team still at work I made my way to a large glass wall. Nothing but air and darkness behind. Except for that pull. Silently mouthing a few fitting words I made my way randomly to the left until bumping into a map. The airport was not large, it was huge. The pull could originate at any of 4 points, if inside the map. Surely it was. So strong. Desperation tastes sour, did you know that? Very sour indeed.
I shuffled to a row of small electric buggies and looked over the controls. It would need a key to work. A service station just behind provided said key. They really should use better material than cardboard or whatever, it was not zombie proof at all. Still in stealing mode I took an official looking jacket and hat as well, and was off. Should take no more than an hour to check all possible locations. Better not get lost in this place, that call was starting to hurt.
I found them in the 4th place of course. And desperation is an understatement.
It was an old guy and a kid. They were sweating. Out of their minds. They luckily had found a waiting space away from everyone else. I drove up, parked neatly and got out. They looked at me blankly. Then I got down on my knees and stated the traditional ‘How may I serve, master’. Pfff. Pull finally drew off. I stayed still trying to enjoy the easing off of the mental jack-hammer.
When it stayed still too long I looked up. The old man looked to have a heart attack. The boy, so young, was looking at me with big manga eyes and had trouble breathing. They clearly knew what I was, or at least what I was supposed to be. They also were let down in a terrible way seeing me.
This was no great help nor any relief really. Desperation now was as tangible as a thick smell in the air.
‘Right. You better tell me everything’.
