Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Ten: The Showdown ~5 Jimmy

~Jimmy~

    I never thought life here at the Guns’ mansion could be so happy. And peaceful.

    By lunch break, many of us ate more than they can handle, insisting the chores given were too much. As usual, the principal sat on the end of the table, and Mr. Riggins on the other. Jules was sitting across me, and beside him were Sam and Karen.

    I was between Camille and John, and next to John was James. Okay, I didn’t particularly know why the best friends had assigned us seats, so before I sat, I inspected my seat for something funny.

    James laughed at me. “Oh, no, Jim,” he said. “I didn’t put ketchup.”

    I narrowed my eyes at him, and he doesn’t stop laughing until he sat down and John had laughed with him. I didn’t know installing three satellite dishes on a roof on such a hot, sunny day could be inebriating.

    As usual, the dining table had been noisy. The girls were having a chat on their own, and the boys had our own business. And as expected, I found a wet sock on my seat—courtesy of Leo, but clearly he didn’t notice he’s the owner of the smelly sock I sat on.

    When we’re together, the Guns were sometimes looking at us happily, as if thinking, Look at the kids! They’re all grown up!

    Then the food was quick to go, and the usual short meetings had started. Maybe after all the days we’ve been stoned into fighting zombies and getting unexpected ADHD, even I can’t stop my mouth from blabbering words, regardless of people listening, or if what I was saying had sense.

    “How’s the chores, children?” Principal Guns asked, his lips pursed and his hands clasped together, as if observing us. Ugh, he didn’t know how much we hated his addressing of us as kids. Do kids nowadays drive cars and bump and crush dead people?

    “Good!” was the common word. The less common words I heard were “Stressful”, “Amazing”, (seriously, Leo?) “Boring”, and “Tiring.” Ugh, I can’t believe they enjoyed their works. Installations, laundry, garden work, cleaning, and renovations were just as tiring and effortful. Nonetheless, being assigned to clean the attic was more boring than fighting off zombies, or taking watch as your classmates sleep and wait for the sun to rise. Or maybe the call ‘The Hulks’—courtesy by Principal Guns—was maybe too much.

    Mrs. Guns were already clearing plates. Some kind girls like Lovely was about to stand up and obviously help the old grandma, but then the old grandma was probably still stronger than she looks.

    “No, dear, just go on to your talks,” she said, smiling sweetly at Lovely.

    “First, is the attic clean and ready for occupants?” Principal Guns announced. For five seconds none of us The Hulks had spoken. Then I saw Adrian at the far end of the table nudge Miguel. Miguel spoke.

    “It’s clean, sir. But the few boxes were heavy to bring down, so we just moved them,” Miguel said, trying not to crumble. I don’t know, but it makes me wonder why he was too nervous to talk.

    “But how many people can occupy the space?”

    My eyes widened. I raised my hand. “The attic’s large enough for all of us, sir!”

    My classmates laughed. Then they began approving me. Yes, when he had cleaned the attic, the space is too wide that all of us can settle. The only jist was there are only two windows, and it would be uncomfortable if several people crowd in a single bed sheet.

    The principal shakes his head. “No, that can’t happen, Mr. Static,” he said. Murmurs of disappointment quickly overwhelmed him. He raises his hand, and we fall back quiet again. “The attic is not properly ventilated. Perhaps some sturdy boys can take it. And another thing is that the three rooms are unoccupied. I’ve asked some people to clean the rooms for you to use it.”