Darkest Days: A Southern Zombie Tale by James J. Layton

looked down at his brown loafers. He was exasperated but still wanted to hear her out.
    “I really don’t need them to find out.” Her lip trembled. “I’ve only known this boy a short time and they wouldn’t understand.”“Do you understand?” Eric tried to give her a stern stare but couldn’t. He empathized with the girl. “Keeping a secret is a serious commitment.” He spoke from personal experience, but would not tell her that. “It hangs over you like a cloud and everywhere you go, it follows.” He leaned in and gravely spoke. “The best thing for you to do is talk to your parents. If it is something you want, you’ll find a way regardless of what they think about it.”
    “If they try to stop me, can you help me?” She gazed quizzically at the adult.
    “How old are you?” He asked, suspicious of the situation.
    “I’m sixteen.”
    She looked ashamed. “Of what?” Eric wondered. Was it because of what she intended on doing? Was it the age that embarrassed her? He finally replied, adding shock and indignation to his voice. “Excuse me, but you want me to give an underage girl pills without her parent’s consent so that she can have sex with her boyfriend?”
    “That’s exactly what I’m asking.” She didn’t smile, just pierced him with frightened eyes.
    “Let’s sit down and get a drink.” He found himself saying.
    ***
     
    The drink ended up taking place in a local BBQ joint called Lisa’s that sat beside Pizza Hut (and coincidentally, almost right across from the hospital). The set up was unusual to her. The restaurant actually consisted of a mobile home with a large dining area constructed in the front. A window and door sat within the constructed customer space. Customers entered a screen-door and immediately walked up to a window with a woman taking orders. Once the order was placed, the customer found his or her own vinyl-upholstered seat. A waitress began serving people once they were seated. Cara ordered a tea and she heard the doctor order a sweet tea at the window as she walked to an unfinished wooden table. The floor had a dusty, steakhouse look to it and a bucket of complimentary peanuts sat at each table between the salt (with rice sprinkled throughout to absorb the moisture) and pepper shakers. As she glanced around, she noticed other patrons tossing the shells on the floor before popping the tasty bits into their sparingly toothed maws. The fact that people would toss food waste onto the floor bothered her. The act appeared so uncultured.
    Dr. Eric Wagner, with a small numbered slip of paper in hand, joined her at the table. “Start from the beginning.” He almost commanded.
    Cara took a deep breath and began her story. The adult listened without interruption until she was done. Then he motioned for her to stop, when a waitress appeared from inside the trailer holding a tray.
    “Number forty-seven!” The twenty-something girl with an apron called out. Eric raised his hand and she changed direction heading toward his seat. The Styrofoam plate came to rest in front of him and he immediately opened a small plastic cup of dark pink sauce with black flecks of pepper in it.
    As the waitress departed, he looked up and said “Continue.”
    Cara had lost her train of thought. “It all really boils down to the fact that I’m going to do this anyway. The options that you have are to help prevent another teenage mother or to play it safe and watch someone risk ruining her and her partner’s futures.”
    The doctor’s face broke into a painful grimace. “I’m not sure you understand the consequences of what you are asking me to do.” He looked around nervously. “I stand to lose a hell of a lot more than my job.”
    Cara spoke with a calm self-assurance that annoyed Eric to the point of making up his mind. “If you were so concerned about that, how come you came here to hear me out?” The smug expression on her face irked the M.D.
    He sat back picking at the fried