Chapter 23
Twenty-three
-MILO-
My teeth grind with a mix of frustration, anger, and heartache as I stroll around Mum’s neighbourhood after Grayson threw me out. These emotions subside when I spot homemade posters of missing people taped to telephone poles. There’s something seriously weird about Mum’s suburb.
Is there a serial killer in one of these houses? And if there is, all these missing person posters are sure to bring down property prices.
I read these with the same curiosity I have for reading headstones.
Margaret, who looks like a cranky old woman, disappeared last week.
Steven, who also looks like he hasn’t had sex in years, went missing only three days ago.
In fact, all these people look like card-carrying members of the fun police.
Their scowls and frowns are testament to being the type of individuals no one wants around.
At least Summer has a privileged disposition so chances are, she’s still alive. Advantaged people are happy people.
But she’s happiest when she puts someone down which makes her a candidate for the local community murderer. Fortunately, this isn’t her turf.
The guy next door to my mum is featured on the notice just outside where he lives. How long has it been since Sue told my mother her dad was missing? Was he the first disappearance or did someone else make that milestone?
And is Mum okay?
I rush to her door and knock. I hear footsteps. She opens the door.
I can’t believe how young she looks. Even more so than the last time I saw her. And her tight bosom brandishing sweater and snug slacks can’t be the result of diet and exercise. No one gets that fit that quickly.
“What are you waiting for?” Mum says as I gawp at her. “Come in.”
I keep admiring her body. Not that I’ve got an Oedipus complex, but I’m fully aware Mum will turn heads.
“I know,” she says. “I’m too good to be true.”
My phone rings. It’s Grayson. I don’t want to talk to him right now.
I step inside. There’s an odd odour I can’t work out. It’s like stale food, or an awful cooking fragrance that has seeped into the walls. And it’s dark in here. All the curtains are drawn.
“Mum, let in some light.”
“No. Sunlight is bad for my complexion.”
“Since when?”
“Since...” She shrugs. “Are you hungry, Milo? You look like you need a feed.”
I think about the feast Grayson conjured and how good that duck a l'orange tasted, before my emotions scramble like an omelette.
“You look sad, Milo. Is everything okay?”
I’m not good at expressing myself even though this is exactly when I should air my grievances. But I prefer to ruminate, sort my issues by myself, then move on. It’s something I learnt to do when I couldn’t rely on Summer to help me. She’d interrupt with a solution not worth listening to.
“Everything’s okay, Mum.”
“Good. Then I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“I’m worried.”
“You said everything was fine.”
“So many people have gone missing in your neighbourhood. You should sell your house.”
“All those missing people were old. They probably wandered off absentminded. They’ll return.”
“Mum, you’re speculating. Wildly speculating. That’s not like you. You’re usually the voice of reason.”
“Am I? It’s nice of you to say that, Milo.”
“And yes, Mum, I’ll have a sandwich. Peanut butter and jam.”
“You have a sweet tooth.”
“True. I’ll just pop to the toilet first.”
I follow Mum as she ambles down the hall, and as I head for the toilet, that smell becomes stronger.
I pee, pinching my nose with one hand and holding my dick with the other. After I flush, my snooping takes me to the laundry where my mum has a freezer.
I have an eerie feeling. As if there’s a truth I already know but really don’t need to confirm.
I swallow my fear and open Mum’s freezer. Summer’s severed head stares at me through frosted eyes. Her skin is as white as milk. But she’s not the only face in this freezer. I recognise another from those posters outside.
“Hello Milo,” Summer’s pale lips say.
I scream. And as I turn to run, Summer’s ghostly form makes me screech once more. She’s just floating there, rolling her eyes as she closes the freezer.
“Are you alright?” Mum cries.
I can’t find my voice, and if I don’t answer soon, Mum will come looking for me. “Yeah,” I finally yell, straining my vocal cords.
“Aren’t you glad to see me?” Summer asks.
I reach for the door handle, but as much as I yank at it, the door won’t budge. And it’s strange because I don’t remember shutting it.
“Milo, darling, you haven’t seen me for a long time. Is that any way to react?”
“Did... did... did...?”
“Did what, Milo? Did I die? Of course I died. Why else can you see through me? Why else would my head be in her freezer?”
“But... but...”
“But how did I die? Isn’t it obvious? This suburb is less populated now.”
“But you... you...”
“But I don’t live here. I wanted to catch up with you so I came here first, as you’ve been spending more time at your mum’s than at home.”
“Mu-Mu-Mum did this?”
“She’s a ravenous woman.”
“Grayson turned my mother into a...”
“Flesh-eating zombie. There, doesn’t it feel better to say it?”
I’m queasy. I slam my hand on the top loader to steady myself.
“Don’t blame Grayson,” Summer says.
“Why not? Mum has a taste for blood and your head is in her freezer.”
“She doesn’t like the taste of faces. That’s why we’re all in there. I have interesting conversations with these people. Did you know there used to be a general store on the next street?”
“I know. I used to buy chocolate bars from that shop.”
Summer’s pallid presence smiles gently. It’s not an expression I’ve seen before. Death has made her nice.
“What’s it like being eaten by a zombie?” I ask.
“Like a shark taking a chomp out of you except the bite mark is smaller.” She smirks sarcastically. “How do you think it felt being eaten alive? Screamingly painful!”
“How long did it take for you to die?”
She grimaces. “Too bloody long. With all my screeching, and all that blood gushing out of me, you’d think your mother would have sympathy. I was your best friend, after all. But no, your mum devoured me like a gluttonous garbage disposal, crunching my bones into sawdust, or bone dust.”
“Eek. Sorry she got a taste for you.”
“What she didn’t eat straight away, she popped into the slow cooker with curry paste and coconut cream.” Summer shudders. “Whatever you do, don’t check her fridge. There are body parts you didn’t even think were edible.”
“Milo, your sandwich is waiting,” my mother calls.
“Mum, I’m constipated. It may take some time.”
“Don’t forget to use the air freshener and the toilet brush. Do a courtesy flush while you wait. It will diminish the pong.”
There were two things really odd about what Mum just said. She’s never this direct when I’m taking a dump. It’s not her nature to literally talk shit. And with the odour that’s taken over her house, there’s little chance any smell could override it.
“Don’t worry Milo,” Summer assures me. “She won’t come for you. She’d never eat her own son.”
“That was the furthest thing on my mind, but now that you’ve said it...”
Summer shrugs. “It won’t happen. Wouldn’t eating a family member be sort of like incest?”
“I guess.”
Summer’s milky body levitates. “I’ll need to go soon. I have a date.”
“A date?”
“Yeah. Life is good in limbo. He’s one of the guys in the freezer, and his left foot is in your mum’s fridge in a bowl with plastic wrap over the top. You’d think with all that eating she’d be bigger, but somehow, people keep her thin.”
“You’re dating an old frump from the freezer?”
“Not quite. Carl is thirty-one. He thought your mum was a cougar so he knocked on her door asking if she needed her lawn mowed.” Summer winks, provocatively. “After he cut her grass, the glass of lemonade your mum offered led to a deadly feast.”
“My mum’s never been...” But then I remember how I thought she turned cougar the last time she saw Grayson. Was she licking her lips for a different reason?
“Promise me something,” Summer says. “Go back to Grayson and make up. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you.”
“Says the queen who embarrassed him online.”
“I was wrong.”
“Wow. Summer Peterson admits she’s wrong. I thought I’d never see the day.”
“Being in love has made me a better person.” Her body floats back down, and she stares directly into my eyes.
“And being in love has made you a better person, and I was jealous someone was taking you away from me. So, ignore all those new followers on your Instagram and live in the real world. You know Grayson, but you don’t know the people who are only interested in your naked grieving self. ”
All the things I love about Grayson come to mind. His emerging confidence which I enjoy being part of. How vivid his eyes seem since he dispensed with his glasses. And how it feels to be around him. As if we’ve known each other since school, even though it’s hardly been a month.
“Look at us, Summer. We’re both in love.”
“It would have been nice to double date.”
“Could we? Grayson’s a wizard and you’re a ghost. It all seems normal the more I think about it.”
She smiles again. Shame she wasn’t like this when she was alive. She is genuinely captivating when she’s kind.
“Milo, are you okay?” my mum shouts.
“Fine,” I yell back. “Nearly there.”
“Have you got enough toilet paper?”
“Plenty.”
“You should eat your sandwich,” Summer tells me.
“I don’t want to stay.”
“You don’t want your mum to be suspicious.”
I nod.
“Go and eat your sandwich, then visit Grayson. Tell him how much you love him.”
“I will.”
As Summer’s ghostly presence fades, she blows me a kiss.
I’ve somehow gotten used to the pong of death, or whatever odour this concoction is. I pull the door handle and it opens this time.
Mother’s taste for flesh and Summer’s ectoplasmic form are my new reality. A reality which has fractured so much, I feel like I’m on the outside looking in.
And the further I make my way to the kitchen, the more I know I can’t keep my promise to my influencer bestie.
Grayson is the cause of both their deadly predicaments, and sure as hell I can’t forgive him for that.