Just down the road, the University Café (not as popular as Tamani’s) was in better shape and so I cheerfully got into their cupboards and fridge to stock up on essential items. I took mainly stuff that was in tins and cans so that it would last. They had a stock of tinned hams and plum puddings, apparently left over from Christmas. Fine by me – so I took as many as I could carry in the back- pack I retrieved along the way. (Don’t ask me who was wearing it at the time – they weren’t going to need it again, I promise you.) I tried to encourage David to share the load with me – I even found another back-pack for him. But he was having none of it. Apparently, zombies don’t do the beast-of-burden thing. (A fact well worth remembering, I’m sure.) In any event, David was getting twitchy again. At first, I thought it must have been hunger (oh no!) but he was just bored. I offered him an apple that I had just swiped from the University Café. He snatched at it and threw it away in disgust. (What had I been thinking? Fruit? For a zombie?) So, I selected another from a nearby basket and bit into it. It wasn’t that fresh – it had been sitting around for over a week – but it was okay (and, unlike the pancakes, it didn’t make me throw up.) How to avoid going back to Union House – that was the pressing problem. Where would any self-respecting zombie prefer to go – other than a charnel house full of zombies (and one psychopathic cat)? Then it struck me: “Hey, Dave! Wanna go to the cemetery? You know, the big one that’s just near here?” He stopped twitching. That was a good sign. But did he know what I was talking about? Possibly, he did. Zombie intelligence is not an easy thing to understand – and, in David’s case, it was complicated by the fact (as I knew) that he could tap into my own mind to boost whatever wit he had been left with following his death. I was like a poorly connected hard-drive, I suppose (though hard-drives, external or otherwise, were unheard of at that time).
Yth esa a-ogas Koffiji an Bennskol (nag o maga hwerinek avel Chi Tamani). Nyns o kemmys distruys hag ytho my a igoras an amariow ha’n yeynell rag kavoes traow o res. Dres oll, my a gemmeras an boesow esa yn kannow may turryens. Yth esa ena stokk a vordhosow hogh kannys hag ynwedh podins – a remaynsa, dell heveli, a-dhia Nadelik. Da o henna genev – ytho my a gemmeras kemmys dell yllyn degi y’n sagh-geyn a gevsen war an fordh. (Na’m govynnewgh neb esa orth y wiska y’n tor’ na – nyns esa na fella edhomm anodho dhodho, my a’gas li.) My a assayas kennertha Davydh dhe gevrenna an fardell genev vy – ha, rag henna, my a gevis sagh-geyn arall ragdho. Mes anvodhek yn feur o ev. Yn apert, ny vydhons skrubel, an zombis. (Hemm yw gwirenn meur y dalvosogeth ragowgh hwi, sur ov.) Yn neb kas, y to ha bos Davydh skwychyek unnweyth arta. Y’n kynsa le, y krysen bos nown dhodho (na!) mes nyns esa dhodho saw skwithter. My a brofyas dhodho aval re lad’sen yn Koffiji an Bennskol. Ev a gibyas orto ha’y dewlel dhe-ves, meur y dhivlas. (Pyth esen ow prederi? Froeth? Rag zombi?) Ytho, my a dhewisas huni arall dhiworth kanstell esa a-ogas ha’y dhynsel. Nyns o mar gro – y fia owth esedha ena dres moy es pennseythun – mes da lowr o (ha, dihaval dhe’n krampoeth, ny’m gwrug dhe hwyja.) Fatell yllyn avoydya dehweles dhe Ji an Kesunyans – henn o an kudynn ter. Ple halsa zombi a dhegre da – a-der chi mernans leun a zombis (hag unn gath sykopathek)? Ena, tybyans a’m frappyas. “Hou, ‘Dhav! A vynnta mos dhe’n ynkleudhva? An huni meur, dell wodhesta, a-ogas dhyn ni?” Y skwychyans a hedhis. Henn o sin da. Byttegyns, a gonvedhi ow geryow vy? Possybyl o. Nyns o es dhe gonvedhes poell an zombis – ha, a-dro dhe boell Davydh, kompleth o drefenn ev dhe alloes (dell wodhyen) tardra y’m brys ow honan rag ynkressya an skians re via gesys dhodho wosa y vernans. Yth en vy kepar ha plasenn gales nag o junyes dh’y vrys yn ewn, dell grysav (kyn nag o aswonnys an plasennow kales y’n tor’ na – po a-ves po a-bervedh.)langbot langbot