Zombie Invasion Page 2

  Now that they had Brittany out of her clothes, all save her underwear, one held her arm out while the other sprayed her with chemicals from a contraption she held in her hand. It was sticky and twice the little girl tried pulling away in revolt. One look from her mother and she stopped. They sprayed her with a spray-on tan. When finished, not only was her little skin covered with a bronze sheen, but so was the top and bottom part of her panties. If not for the cap they placed upon her, her hair would have received the same rich sheen.

  Next, Brittany dressed in a large bath towel and sat in a tall chair. She dangled her feet, reflecting how they didn’t touch the floor. She was happy to sit after standing for what felt like days in front of a smelly fan. One woman came to her and looked her up and down. Brittany didn’t like the way she stared at her. Finally, the woman took the cap off her hair and a new woman came in, clicking her tongue.

  “I think I will go big and curly,” said the woman. “Yes, those cutsie blond curls will give you an advantage over the other girls. But first, we better get you in your dress. I don’t want my good work messed up later. Bonnie?”

  “Yeah,” said the woman who sprayed Brittany.

  “Put her in her dress before I start. She’s dry enough. Get her a bathrobe to cover the dress.”

  “All right,” said Bonnie.

  Bonnie left. She returned to the room carrying a black bag. She unzipped it and took out a beautiful white dress. The others gathered, blocking April’s view. They hurried and put the dress on the little girl. They then brought in a bathrobe and put it on top of the dress. When they moved, April got a brief look at her daughter’s dress.

  April came closer and saw the designer label. “I was Homecoming Queen, two years running,” she proudly gave the women her credentials. “In all my pageant days I never wore a designer label, especially a Versace.” She smiled at her daughter.

  “Have a seat,” said Bonnie. “It will be another hour before Sandy finishes.”

  April devoured three more of the delicious cookies.

  Brittany stood and removed her robe.

  “Wow,” said April, overcome with joy, “I couldn’t see while you dressed her, but now, that is the most . . .”

  “It’s an original,” said Bonnie. “We are going for a ‘Pretty Woman’ theme.”

  “Oh, that sounds nice,” said April. “She will be sensational. I wish it could be me.”

  They put a larger size robe on their creation.

  Sandy went to work on Brittany’s long blond hair. She clipped the ends that ran midway down the girl’s back and then pushed them up. She pushed Brittany’s hair high and used an assortment of pins, spray, and gel to hold it in place. It felt heavy to Brittany. She wondered how it would feel when she touched it. It took hours to put the curls in place. When finished, the hairdo resembled a beehive in the back with curls running down all sides. The front and sides were straight and ran down the side of her face, ending in large curls.

  Sandy left and a new woman came in with a makeup box. She held Brittany’s chin and tilted her head. Brittany hated the pulling, but kept her mouth shut so as not to anger her. The woman was big with a strong manly grip and foul breath. The best solution was to think of winning the contest and picturing herself with the crown, then the delicious cookies. She did just that while the woman decided on a style and jerked her head around. Finally, the woman opened her giant makeup box and went to work. Makeup took half an hour and Brittany was happy to see her leave.

  Brittany sat in the chair alone. All the women left. The fairy princess scenario lost its luster. It was too much work. She was not having any fun and wanted to go home.

  April rose with the smell of whiskey on her breath. She stumbled to her daughter.

  “What’s the matter, baby?”

  “I wanna go home, momma.”

  She sat in her tall chair, tugging at her dress.

  “Stand up, baby.”

  Brittany stood and April took her robe off to get a full look at the designer dress. The dress was spectacular. The top was sleeveless, tight fitting with lace and clung to Brittany’s upper body. The lower half spread out like an elegant gown.

  April carefully wiped a stray tear forming in Brittany’s right eye. She had to be extra careful so as not to ruin the perfect makeup job the woman had given her. Brittany’s lips were ruby red. Makeup made her rosy cheeks even rosier. The eyeliner gave the young girl too much of an adult look. Still, when she closed her blue painted eyelids, she became a little angel again.

  April led Brittany to a full-length mirror and stood behind her. “You are beautiful, baby. You are a vision. We came here to make money. If we leave now, we won’t have a home to go back to. We have to stay, baby. This contest will make us rich and all you have to do is be yourself, baby. Just be beautiful in this beautiful dress. You are helping your family, baby. I want you to walk out on stage in a few minutes and smile. That’s all you have to do to win.”

  “Okay, momma.”

  “Come on, baby, it won’t be long.”

  Guiding her by her hand, April led her daughter through a door. They were on the backstage with curtains in front of them. All around them were the sounds of the pageant. Above them lights flickered on and off and they heard cheering. Peeking through the curtains, they saw a girl walking back and forth on the main stage. Brittany’s little stomach churned.

  “You see her, honey?” April whispered in her daughter’s ear. “You walk out like her and walk back and forth across the stage. Then you come back here to me and it will all be over, okay?”

  “Okay, momma.”

  Mildred found them peeking through the curtain. “Hey, you two. You’re up in ten minutes. Come on, get in line.”

  Mildred pinned a number on her and lined her up behind another girl. The numbers were upside down and Brittany couldn’t count that high. She stared at the numbers until a hand tugged her along.

  April waved and gave a big smile.

  “Will she win?”

  “Yes,” said Mildred. “She is a lock. The new talent always has the edge and Brittany is the freshest little thing you would ever want to meet.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Seriously. Come here.” Mildred pointed to a man behind the table. He was an older man of fifty-five years. “That is James, one of the judges. He assures me that Brittany will win the $5,000 prize and can possibly win more if you are interested.”

  “Yeah, how?” asked April. The thought of making more money thrilled her.

  Brittany was close and heard their words up to that point. A roar from the crowd startled her. She would win, she thought. That would save mommy. Her heart soared on the news. She tried listening again through the noise, but only heard bits she didn’t understand.

  “Well, he likes taking pictures of the winner for his private collection.”

  April gasped.

  “Oh, it’s not like that. He’s a good guy, he just likes to take pictures of girls wearing their sashes and crowns. It’s quite innocent.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “But—”

  “Shhh,” said Mildred, “she’s coming out.”

  A lady gave her a shove from behind and little Brittany walked out onto the stage. A glaring light struck her in the face, nearly blinding her. She focused and saw through the lights. The crowd cheered. She walked forward and more cheering came. Brittany found that with every step she took the roar of the crowd grew louder. It was as if she was a real come-to-life princess and her subjects loved her. Automatically her hand rose to match the wave she admired from television princesses. Her smile grew bright, electrifying the audience, producing more applause. They were hers and she would never let them go. Loud music played. She heard the song the women said was her theme. She waved more.

  Brave legs began a slow march forward across the stage, while a confident head lifted to the roar of the crowd. Nothing could stop her, she was a vision. Brittany marched forward
with hips swinging, sashaying to applause, in step with her music. Pretty woman, yes, she was that. She went forward to the end of the small stage and turned around, waved to all sides, then walked back. The little princess would have turned around and marched back if not for the busybody raining on her parade. The awful woman stood between the curtains and waved her toward her to the exit. Reluctantly, Brittany went but she filled her head with the applause knowing she was better than the glittered girls who stood around her with their squawking parents.

  April Dushell was there to greet her. They hugged and the strong embrace told her she had done well. She saved her family. Those depressing nights with only her television and beauty pageants to keep her company paid off. “You killed them, honey.”

  “They liked me mommy, I heard them. They liked me.”

  “Of course they did, baby. You are an angel and gave them no choice.”

  April gave the dolled up girl another hug. Brittany couldn’t tell who shook more.

  “Ahem.” Mildred cleared her throat.

  Looking up, they saw a strange look on her face.

  “I need you to come with me, Miss Dushell. I have something to show you.”

  April broke her hug and kissed her angel on her rosy cheek. “I’ll be back, baby. You wait right her, okay?”

  “Okay, mommy.”

  Brittany’s bright eyes kept her occupied. They darted from competitor to competitor, evaluating her competition to confirm she was the winner. She was sure of it. She turned back to peek between the curtains and view the last of her competition as the girl paraded down the catwalk. The girl was awful, she thought. She didn’t have enough glitter and her hair had no extensions. She wore a wrinkled blue dress and flats instead of heels. Brittany touched one of her extensions and smiled. That poor girl would have one destiny—go home and cry tonight.

  “Britt?”

  Turning around, Brittany recognized her mother’s voice. She left the curtain and the sad girl who wouldn’t win.

  “Line up here, Brittany,” said Mildred.

  “Okay.”

  Brittany stood behind twenty-four anxious girls. The last girl received a hug from her mother and came to the line. Brittany refused to look at her as she passed. Her eyes remained fixed on the curtain in front of her. A woman’s garbled voice came to her over a loudspeaker. A small degree of uncertainty flooded her, forcing her small knees to knock.

  The curtains opened and applause made its way to her. In an instant, she found strength.

  Mildred stood before them. “Stay in line, ladies. Let’s go.”

  Mildred led the way and they followed. One by one the line moved and at her turn, Brittany marched with more confidence. Into the bright lights she marched to thunderous applause, applause she knew was just for her. She went slower to put a small amount of distance between her and the girl before her. She had seen it done on her television shows as a method of gaining favor. An added wave and smile came next. They halted and turned.

  “Third prize goes to . . . Emily Hunter.” Applause followed Mildred’s announcement. A girl in a yellow gown two people in front of her stepped forward and waved. Brittany noticed her smile wasn’t as bright as it could have been. A man placed a sash around her neck. The girl waved again and stepped back.

  Mildred consulted the card given her. “Second prize and runner up . . . Trista Carter. The lead girl took a step forward and waved. Instead of a gown to her feet like Emily Hunter, she wore a golden mini-skirt with black top and high heels. Brittany liked her look, she saw similar outfits on television and it attracted handsome boys to the girls that wore them. After she received her sash and an added bouquet of flowers, Brittany tensed, it was her turn. She knew it.

  “And finally,” croaked Mildred, “our grand prize winner. First place and winner of the Little Miss Precious contest . . . Brittany Dushell.”

  Thunderous applause erupted. Over the pounding of her heart, the noisy falling confetti, the cheers from the gallery, and congratulations from the two nearest girls, Brittany heard her mother’s familiar whistle and catcall. It centered her, reminding her of where she was and what came next. Proudly she stepped forward, arm raised in the traditional princess victory wave. She thrust her chest out and watched the man put the golden sash around her neck. A girl, not much older than she, came forward with a tiara on her head and identical sash. The girl took the tiara off her head and placed it on Brittany’s.

  With a kiss to each cheek, the girl left. No one needed to tell Brittany what came next, she knew. Gallantly she strutted forward to the front of the stage amidst applause. She waved at all her loyal subjects before turning to make her way back.

  April jumped up and down with applause, nearly falling out of her tank top. A nearby man whistled and turned a camera on her. She didn’t care that she gave the audience more than what they had bargained for. She leaped for her baby. By the grace of god, she remained halfway in her loose top and with a quick adjustment, attention returned to her daughter, the star attraction.

  Brittany didn’t know that part of the applause was for her attractive, voluptuous mother who happened to show up on a monitor. If she had known, she wouldn’t care, she had seen her goods on many occasions. She kept waving and when next to the other girls, she received a new prize, the red roses she should have walked with. No matter, she was happy to take the walk again. This time she noticed the giant television screen to her right. She was on it and waving. She waved harder and smiled brighter as cameras flashed in her small face. She was a princess.

  * * *

  After a photo op and celebrations, they went across the hall to the banquet room. As she walked to the room, Brittany thought about everything she experienced. Life was a whirlwind. The many congratulations, hugs, and good wishes she received thrilled her. Her nightly fantasies paled compared with reality. She had no idea the winners felt this way. The overpowering joy she felt excited her. She knew little about life, but if this feeling was what grownups felt, she couldn’t wait to grow up. She didn’t want the feeling to ever leave her.

  The banquet room was spacious with dozens of cloth covered tables. Red chairs fit for queens and kings stood around each white table with gold trim. Brittany panted. Never before had she seen such a room. Five is not old, but with all her TV watching, she felt like she was a knowledgeable fifteen-year-old adult.

  The decorated ballrooms from her wedding shows and sweet sixteen shows were no match for this room. Brittany gawked at the golden chandeliers and knew it to be true. Her mind stored away snapshots that she would be sure to revisit.

  “My, my, my, don’t we look the princess,” said a man she didn’t know.

  “An enchanted angel if ever I saw one,” said another.

  “Stop fawning over her boys, she’s spoken for,” said Mildred.

  While the little girl pondered the meaning of those words, she listened as Mildred chuckled with the men and ushered her and her mother forward. With every step Brittany took, her sash moved, announcing her presence. She loved it. The sound her sash made and the crown on her head erased years of isolation and depression. It was much better to be the center of attention than the lonely girl whose mother worked and left her with a television for a baby-sitter. Life was good.

  Brittany eyed the table they were led to. It was the most magnificent table she had ever seen. Her fantasy deserts were all present. She stared at the plate of dark and white chocolate dipped strawberries. Next to it stood a milk chocolate fountain with a silver oval tray containing strawberries, banana halves, and long toothpicks. Oh, the joy of dipping a strawberry in that fountain of chocolate, it made her gush. Brittany could hardly wait for the opportunity.

  “This is your table,” said Mildred. “Only the princess gets her own fountain.”

  “You hear that, baby?” asked April.

  “Yes, momma.”

  Brittany’s eyes never left the fountain. Her head filled with dreams of plunging into the fountain. Perhaps she could coat
her tiara with a layer of the sweet mixture. How great it would be to wear such a crown.

  “Sit down, baby.”

  They all sat. Brittany paid no attention to her neatly wrapped silverware or the plate set before her. The chocolate fountain stole her heart and would not give it back.

  Champagne poured, dinner was served, and toasts made. April’s heaven overwhelmed her and captured her heart just as Brittany’s heaven had. Each remained in their separate world and relished every second.

  At the end of the night, they entered a new room, a dance hall. Brittany watched as adults danced. She didn’t know how and with the absence of boys her age, had no wish to dance. She walked around watching. Contestants and their parents sat or danced. Brittany held her head higher so they could all envy her. She was the star, not them.

  April danced with several men. Between dances, she chugged a golden soda from a tall thin glass. Brittany found the shape of the glass interesting. Every time the scantily clad servers passed, she reached her hand out for a glass. The servers gave her a compassionate look but never gave her a glass. She harbored a deep resentment toward them.

  As Brittany waited for her mother to finish another dance, fright came over her. She saw her fantasy life transform into a nightmare. A man in a dark suit sat, staring at her. The way he stared gave her no joy. It was a new feeling, well, not quite so new. An old teacher of hers gave her a similar look. The other teachers say that he is in the pokey for being a bad man. The only other thing she knows is the girl who complained about him staring at her is no longer at the school. Her mother came to school one day and after yelling at everyone, left with her daughter and said she would slue them all.

  That eerie feeling was back.

  Brittany searched for her mother. In her exchange with the man, she lost track of April. Terror struck her. The emotion was alarming. Going out under the bright lights of the stage was easy compared to this. She searched with passion but found her mother nowhere. Afraid to give up, she began anew and this time she found her.