Zombie Hayride Read online

  Zombie Hayride

  A Novella

  Kyler Doss

  Publisher Kyler Doss

  USA

  ZOMBIE HAYRIDE

  Copyright 2018 by Kyler Doss

  All rights reserved

  2019 publication

  ISBN 978-1-938181-17-7

  Cover r3 design

  For Mike's brother

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  1 | Zander

  2 | York

  3 | Eric

  4 | Kit

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  About the Author

  1

  Zander

  ZANDER STEPPED up on the low farm wagon. There were bales of hay here and there. He took a seat.

  "Do you like it?" York said.

  York was this guy Zander had met five minutes before. Zander had come for the hayride because it was what you were supposed to do in this town.

  "Sure," he said.

  What else could he say?

  He didn't like this new town his parents had dragged him to, plus he didn't know if he liked York or not.

  At least he had one thing in common with him. The two of them were 13-year-old boys out for some Halloween fun.

  Plus Zander kind of liked the fact they both had weird names. York couldn't make fun of him because look who's talking if he did.

  "It goes around twice," York said.

  Zander couldn't picture it. Around what? He didn't say anything.

  "It starts after sundown but it gets dark the second time."

  "Okay," Zander said.

  "Things happen the second time around."

  Zander wanted to know if that meant scary stuff. And how scary? Zombies coming at you from the fields? They could easily catch you because York had said that the hayride maxes out at 6 miles per hour.

  Home was different than here. It was a lot better. But this was home now and there was no way Zander was going to like it. He just wanted to get this hayride over and done with.

  "What happens?" he said.

  "You'll see."

  Somebody started playing a harmonica. It looked like a high school kid. And he was good, too.

  It kind of made it easier to talk.

  "Like what?" Zander said.

  "I guess I can tell you."

  But then York stopped and Zander was left waiting. The harmonica filled in the space. There may have been two dozen people on the ride and they were just talking and liking the music, too.

  "When it's dark," York said, "most everybody tries to steal a kiss."

  Zander looked around. Who was he supposed to steal a kiss with? He went ahead and acted like it was some kind of joke, sort of shrugging it off.

  "It's not like I want to," York said. "Everybody just thinks it's funny."

  The wagon started to move. The sun had faded out. Zander couldn't stop what was happening but maybe he could change the subject.

  "Are there gonna be zombies?"

  "No." York leaned back but poked his boots forward. "I'm gonna steal a kiss with you."

  "You are?"

  "Are you afraid?"

  Zander thought about it. No, he wasn't afraid. Of course, you can jump off the wagon without getting hurt and then just keep running. You can act like you saw a zombie.

  He had never kissed anybody and only one person had kissed him. It was this girl who ran up to him in 4th grade and then afterwards ran off giggling. It was disgusting.

  If York did it, it wouldn't be disgusting. Zander wasn't sure why it wouldn't be.

  That must have been one of the rules around this place, that the hayride is a really funny kissing game. Nobody would get too shook about it because it was all part of the Halloween season. You did crazy stuff.

  Like chasing zombies. Or running from them. The kiss would be a kiss. They did that stuff here without thinking there was something to it. Probably everybody has a good laugh and then that guy plays the harmonica again.

  "I don't care," Zander said.

  "Nobody kisses the first time around."

  Zander didn't know if he had agreed to something. He had a thousand questions but they all seemed difficult. He settled on one of them.

  "Do you do this every night?"

  "Yeah, almost."

  That didn't tell Zander what he wanted to know, if York had been kissing other people. He felt like he should ask it point-blank. Or maybe not.

  "Who else does it?"

  "Pretty much everybody."

  He wanted to ask if boys kissed boys. Every question he wanted to ask, he couldn't say it the way he wanted to. York was jerking him around and Zander felt like he didn't belong here.

  They were gonna have what they called a "social" after this, with hot chocolate and stuff. It sounded better before this other stuff came up.

  "I can't play harmonica," York said, "like that guy does."

  "Have you kissed him?"

  The question had slipped out.

  "No."

  It was getting dark. Zander had lost track of the journey. They couldn't be on the second time around. Not yet. Was it easy to know when you were?

  When York leaned forward, you had to get kind of nervous. Maybe it wasn't the second time around but maybe he would make an exception to the rule.

  "Are you gonna kiss me?" Zander said.

  "Yeah."

  Zander waited for it. Whenever it might come. Or he could lean over there himself and kiss York on the cheek. That would surprise him.

  York might get mad because it was against the rules and everyone sitting on their hay bales would be shocked. The harmonica would stop and someone would say, "You can't do that."

  This town had strange rules. The best thing was to let York take care of all that because he had a better idea of what you could do and what you couldn't do.

  Zander liked how York sat there on the hay bale. He had his arms folded and he would nod once in a while if Zander said something or not. Zander wanted him to take his hat off.

  Again, it was one of those things you couldn't say or do to him.

  York took it off like he knew, then put it back on. "You can't go kissing," he said, "in a cowboy hat."

  Zander tried to stall his next question but couldn't. "How come?"

  "You don't do much kissing, do you?"

  If Zander was back home, this wouldn't be happening. The only reason he could believe it at all was because this place was so weird.

  "This girl ran up and kissed me in 4th grade."

  York raised an eyebrow under the brim of his hat. "Did you like it?"

  "No."

  "Do you see those lights in the distance?"

  Zander nodded.

  "That's where we started," York said.

  It wouldn't be long now. They were heading back toward the lights. The guy was still playing the harmonica. Some of the people were keeping time, lots of foot tapping.

  Zander thought about jumping off and running the rest of the way. He could say he had done half a hayride and call it good. Plus according to what York had said, the second time around was no different than the first.

  Except for the kissing.

  Yeah, Zander kind of wanted to get kissed by York. It wasn't nearly as disgusting as what that girl had done to him.

  How would York do it? So far, from what Zander had gathered, you would know it was coming when you saw York take off his hat. He had flat-out told you that was going to be the sign.

  Zander wasn't wearing a hat. He had a baseball cap in his room, the room that was his even if it didn't feel like it.

  "What happens later?" he said.

  York was watching the harmonica player but he
wasn't keeping time. "They have a dance."

  "Are you going?"

  "Don't know."

  York kept a watch on the harmonica player and Zander wondered why he did it. Did he like that boy?

  Zander was getting ready for the second time around. All you had to do was wait for the big turn at the start point. The sky was already way dark.

  "I might go home," York said.

  The rules of this place kept changing. Or what did York mean?

  "You don't like it?" Zander said.

  "It runs every night."

  The lights were getting a little brighter. Whatever York meant, it wouldn't be long before Zander found out. A couple hundred yards.

  It was time to think about what you wanted. For one thing, Zander was no longer thinking about getting off of the ride early. Also, he wanted to go to the dance, where you could hear the music play and have some hot chocolate, too. You didn't have to dance if you didn't want to. Anyhow, that was the rule back home.

  These lousy rules. They kept changing them on you. Either that or you were totally clueless.

  "Let's get off," York said.

  "This time?"

  "We're almost there."

  York might have something else in mind. Like they could get in on the hot chocolate right away. But what about the kiss?

  "What about the kiss?" Zander said.

  "There's tomorrow night."

  The hayride was pushing toward the start point and nothing was clear. They would step off but then what? All you could do was wait and see. Or say something.

  "What's that guy's name?"

  "Who?"

  Zander looked toward the harmonica player.

  "I don't know," York said.

  There were so few yards left in the first time around that nothing much was possible. Still, Zander thought about leaning over and giving York a kiss. It would be really funny. Anybody who saw it would think so. It would be a good way to finish round one.

  "We're almost there," York said.

  Zander knew it was too late. The wagon started to make a big swing to the left. It would have gone a little farther straight ahead if the ride was done but it really was bending toward the second half of its trip.

  "Follow me," York said.

  He jumped down. Zander did, too, and York caught him. Suddenly it all made sense.

  "They have a square dance," York said. "They do regular dancing, too."

  "Do you know how?"

  "Yeah."

  York walked toward the dance floor, which had a canopy strung with red, blue, and yellow lights. It looked great, color in the middle of darkness. But York kept on going past it until the lights were lost and the county road came up.

  He pointed. "You came from there?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'm over this way."

  He started to walk off. Zander wanted to say something but couldn't think of anything.

  York turned around. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  It was all kind of shocking to Zander. "Okay."

  He was going to watch York until he couldn't see him anymore. Then he got afraid York would see him doing it.

  So he wandered off.

  If they had stayed on the ride, people would probably be kissing by now. The question was whether the harmonica player would do it, too, or just keep on playing the music.

  Zander wanted York to kiss him like he said he would. Once you get used to the idea that it's part of the hayride on the second half, you expect it. And what do you do with the fact that York bailed out early? Why did he do it?

  He said they would meet tomorrow. What would that be like? Zander tried to see it in advance but couldn't. Nothing around here was predictable. They told you in plain English they were going to kiss you and then they didn't do it. Not only that, they wouldn't tell you why the plan had changed. And then they want to see you tomorrow, but what for?

  What did those people on the ride think about York and Zander stepping off? It seemed like they were the only two who did it. The harmonica either kept on going the whole time or stopped briefly but when you don't know for sure, then it doesn't help you at all.

  Zander could start to ask himself other questions.

  Did he like York? Kind of. He liked him enough to kiss him because it was part of the hayride game. If you showed up for some ride that somebody said you had to go on, then you wanted to know what it was really like. They all kiss on the second time around, so you don't want to be cheated out of it.

  Would you kiss the harmonica player if you found yourself on the bale of hay next to his? Yeah. It's the way it's done. You are sitting next to someone and you kiss them. You don't have that much choice.

  Then again, you get to decide who you sit next to when you show up. York had made sure it was Zander.

  The reason Zander showed up in the first place was, his aunt lived here and she had told him, "You've got to go on the hayride."

  So Zander agreed because it was easier than not going along with it. When he had gotten to the farm that was giving the hayrides, York was there no matter if you knew where he came from or not. He had said hello.

  And then he said, "You aren't from around here."

  That was true and Zander said so.

  Then York said, "The hayride's gonna start."

  They had started walking in the direction of the farm wagon like everybody else was doing. Did York know who he wanted to kiss? Nobody could blame it on Zander because he didn't know anything about that.

  It was like a game that they played. It required darkness and it had to be on the farm wagon with the hay. The harmonica was not part of the deal unless somebody always brought one. Except it didn't seem that way, that somebody always did.

  Zander was excited that York had picked him. But he was confused about how the ride ended. Why did York say they were getting off after one loop? He had told that big story about what happened on the second loop. He made you want to get that far and then he steps off so easily. And it was very easy. You're going slow and the step down is like 18 inches or something, maybe 24. You just take a little leap.

  Zander finally got home and said hello to his parents and his aunt. She was paying them a visit and letting them know about their new location, which Zander's mother knew about pretty well from the past because she had grown up here.

  None of that made any difference to Zander. He didn't grow up here and he didn't like it. He may have liked it better if York didn't pull the rug out from under him. But all he could think about was what the next day would bring.

  He tried to get past the conversation in the kitchen with as few words as possible. They wanted to know about the hayride and he said he had gone on it, which he had. All he did was leave out minor details like waiting for York to kiss him and then not getting kissed. Come to think of it, he never got a kiss goodnight.

  He made it to his room, which he liked better now because it was not out there where unusual things had happened to him. York had said he would see him tomorrow but he didn't exactly say where. The only place it could be was the hayride. What if the kissing on the second lap was something York made up? Nobody else said it or seemed like they were gonna do it.

  What if York was lying? And why would he do that?

  Tomorrow was gonna be weird. If you showed up. But you didn't have to if you didn't want to, especially if you thought someone was jerking you around. You didn't have to find out why they were doing it because you were already past all that in your head. The evening was over. All you had to do was fall asleep, which wasn't that easy.

  ZANDER WALKED toward the hayride farm at sundown. Everywhere you looked there were fields and trees and crops and sometimes snow. He didn't know enough about farming to know what the crops were. No matter which way he turned, the mysteries beat him down. You would think that you could figure out cotton or sweet potatoes, or that you could figure out who wanted to kiss who. Like for instance, shouldn't you be able to figure out who you yourself wanted to kiss? />
  The land wouldn't give up its secrets. All it gave you was yourself in the middle of someplace you didn't know. And that is no place where you want to be.

  York was going to show up. If only to cause more trouble in Zander's life. You don't tell someone you are going to kiss them. You just do it, don't you? Isn't that what they do on TV? Does anybody ever say, "I'm going to kiss you later. I'm not going to kiss you right now. I'm going to talk about it."

  That's stupid. If you want to kiss them, kiss them. Zander wanted to make that the rule. If only he had some say in how any of this went.

  Things looked the same as the night before. The wagon was there. There was a handwritten sign that said, "Hayride."

  All of it looked familiar but the colored lights weren't on yet. They had made the biggest impression on Zander and he wanted to hang around them tonight because they were warm.

  He wanted to talk to York. He didn't have anything he wanted to say but maybe York did.

  Some people were starting to show up. Zander was looking hard for him. Also, he was looking for the harmonica player to see if there was going to be music again.

  And there he was, the boy who had played it. The flap of his shirt pocket was buttoned but the shiny silver of the harmonica came through at the edge.

  He came up. "I saw you last night," he said.

  "Yeah, it was fun."

  A lie was as good as the truth. Probably better. The truth would have been, "Yeah, I was with York. He said he would kiss me but he didn't and now I'm disappointed. I don't even know why I came back."

  "I like it." The boy tapped on the pocket with the harmonica in it. "What's your name?"

  It caught Zander off guard because he thought the harmonica was going to be the topic of conversation.

  "Zander."

  "Eric."

  The boy put his hand out and they shook.

  What Zander wanted to ask about was if people really did kiss on the second go around the course. Like last night, did they do it? Were they gonna do it tonight?

  "You play good," Zander said.

  "Thanks."

  "I like those songs."

  "You're not from around here."

  "No." Zander thought about lots of explanations and things but let it go at that.

  "You've got a friend here."