“Lucky him,” Lula said.
I went to my bedroom and stuffed some clothes into a medium-sized duffel bag. I added my laptop. It took me two minutes max, and I was ready to vacate. Truth is, I was much more frightened of a human pseudo-zombie than I would be of a real zombie. A Hollywood zombie would have to live by zombie rules. A pseudo-zombie would be unpredictable and have human emotions and obsessions . . . like needing a specific brain, as opposed to any old brain. Like maybe needing my brain.
On my way out, I checked for Diesel’s knapsack. Still there. My bed had been slept in and a towel was damp in the bathroom. I felt a sense of relief, because it meant Diesel was okay.
“What are we doing now?” Lula asked.
“We’re going to check on Johnny Chucci, and then I’m taking Grandma shopping.”
“What kind of shopping?”
“Grandma’s getting a puppy.”
“Say what?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You say that a lot. Am I going along to get this puppy?”
“No. You’re going to babysit Bob at the office.”
Lula turned in her seat and looked at Bob.
“I guess I could do that, as long as I don’t have to take him for a walk and pick up his poop.”
“No problem,” I said. “He’s already been for a walk. He’ll be happy to take a nap.”
I turned off Hamilton, wound around the maze of streets in the Burg, and parked in front of Johnny’s parents’ house. I left Lula and Bob in the car, and I went to the small front porch and rang the bell. Mrs. Chucci answered.
“I came to see how Johnny is doing,” I said to Mrs. Chucci.
“He’s doing much better,” she said. “He moved out yesterday.”
“Moved out? Where did he go?”
“He had a reconciliation with his ex-wife.”
“She had a restraining order against him.”
Mrs. Chucci nodded. “Life is strange, isn’t it? I suppose she realized she still had feelings for him when he got shot.”
I thanked Mrs. Chucci and went back to Big Blue.
“Well?” Lula asked. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing great. He’s back with his ex-wife.”
“You mean he’s standing on the street with a sign again?”
“I don’t know.”
• • •
I cut across the Burg and parked in front of Judy Chucci’s house. I didn’t see Johnny hobbling around on the sidewalk, so I assumed he was inside. I went to the door and rang the bell. No answer. I looked in the window. The house was dark. Wall to wall gnomes. No one walking around. I went to the back door. I knocked. I looked in the window. Lots of gnomes. No people. Door locked. I went back to the car.
“No one home,” I said to Lula.
“Maybe they killed each other, and they’re dead. You should bust in and take a look,” Lula said.