The Hungry Dead

I staggered, my nerves wound tight.

My dad took everyone I loved.

Was my little girl his next target?

What did I do to deserve that?

Rage cut through the dread.

If there was no escape, then I would not run.

I inhaled deeply and reached for Wendy's hand. "Sweetie, let's go keep Grandpa company with some spicy stew," I said.h

I grabbed two takeout containers filled with spicy stew and tender slices of meat and led my daughter to my dad's gravesite.

One by one, I shoved the meat into my mouth, chewing with a fury as I stared down the smiling photo on his headstone, tears streaming down my face.

"Dad! I swear I've never let you down!

"When you got sick and couldn't eat, I was up at five every morning, making your liquid meals, sitting by your bed, cleaning you up.

"I drained my savings for your hospital bills, for all those supplements.

"Mom never complained, caring for you day and night, and Chester, he respected you just like his own dad.

"And Wendy, she made sure to visit and chat every single weekend!"

The tears were scalding, mixing with the spicy broth, salty and hot, making me cough and sputter.

"What's got you so upset, huh? Just let me have it!"

I shouted into the silence, "You want to eat, right? Well, eat!"

However, the cemetery gave no reply.

I went home with a heavy heart, my daughter in tow.

I sat on the couch, eyes wide open, all through the night.

By the time the sun rose, she was still sleeping soundly.

Then I started to laugh, a crazy, uncontrollable laugh, even as tears kept rolling down.

Three days later, the year was coming to a close.

Just like before, I dreamed of Dad again.

He was as gaunt as ever in the dream, his lips dry, moving without sound.

"My girl, life was so hard for me. Show me some mercy.

"It's New Year's, I'm coming home for dinner, don't forget to make fish!"

I woke up with a start.

Once the fog of sleep cleared, all that was left was resolved.

He just wanted fish, right?

Then that's what everyone would get.

I invited the whole family over and laid out a feast of fish dishes.

However, the mood was eerie; no one even reached for their forks.

Theodore Douglas, my uncle, cleared his throat, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me.

"You know, they say starving is the worst way to go.

"Before your Dad passed, he couldn't stop talking about wanting some fish, but you wouldn't even let him have that.

"Now he's gone, and look at you, throwing a whole fish banquet. Such a devoted child you are!"

The air crackled with sarcasm.

I pretended not to notice the sting in Theodore's words.

With a smile, I served him a slice of fish belly on his plate.

"Uncle Theodore, Dad needed money for his treatments, money you borrowed and never returned."

His face soured instantly.

I glanced around the room.

"And Aunt, that 'miracle cure' you got for Dad, three grand a bottle? Funny, it's only a hundred and twenty bucks when I checked."

"Oh, Silvia, why dredge up such things now, at New Year's?"

The chime of the New Year's bell rang out.

"It's New Year's, everyone. Eat up, for Dad's sake."

The relatives, anxious, I might say more, quickly changed the subject and dove into their meals.

Only when everyone seemed okay did I carefully place a boneless piece of fish in my daughter's plate.

"Sweetie, take your time eating."

I watched her, my breath caught in my chest.

She nodded, sweet as ever, and took a bite.

One bite, two bites.

However, her face flushed red.

Wendy clutched her mouth, coughing hard.

A trickle of blood ran down her chin!