Anita gets her zombie raising stuff, which is in a plain bag because this is ‘work’ and she’s not here to put on a show, damnit.
I turned down Halloween parties every year, where people wanted zombies raised at the stroke of midnight or some such nonsense. The scarier my reputation got, the more people wanted me to come be scary for them. I’d told Bert I could always go and threaten to shoot all the partygoers, that’d be scary. Bert had not been amused. But he had stopped asking me to do parties.
Please stop threatening to murder people, Anita. It’s not funny.
I’d been trained to use an ointment spread over face, hands, heart. The smell of rosemary, like breathing in a Christmas tree, still held a great nostalgic for me, but I didn’t use the ointment anymore.
Rosemary doesn’t smell anything like a pine tree. It smells like rosemary! And what the hell does ‘a great nostalgic’ mean? Wow such great use of language. Anyway, Anita is so amazing that she doesn’t have to use ointment, she just needs to use steel, fresh blood, and salt. She uses her own blood because Marianne – the psychic tutor – is now a Wiccan and doesn’t approve of Anita killing chickens for the raising ceremony. Killing an animal is ‘very black magic’.
Um, Anita is not a practitioner of Wicca. She’s practising a ceremony that is part of a religion. Of course, Vaudun is wicked black magic that white people paganism will make better. Bleugh.
Anita has been pricking her fingers open with a machete. Right.
Nope, not buying that. Machetes are an agricultural cleaver designed for cutting down vegetation. They are not designed to give people dainty little pin-pricks on their fingers.
Tonight Lindel graveyard was court. I was glad that Court TV hadn’t gotten wind of it. It was just the kind of weird crap that they liked to televise. You know – transsexual’s custody case; female teacher rapes thirteen-year old boy student; pro-football player’s murder trial. The O.J. Simpson trial had not been a good influence on American television.
Bit late to drop a reference to the OJ Simpson trial. This was written in 2003. And, yeah, a transgender person pleading to be allowed access to their children – that’s ‘weird crap’. And child abuse? ‘Weird crap’. Do you ever think about the implications of your writing?
Anita has to make a circle of blood so she slices open her finger with her machete – mmmwhatevermmm – and it bleeds enough to make a big circle of power. She raises Gordon Bennington up from the grave and he looks like a rotting body.
He wasn’t awful, I’d seen much worse, but his widow screamed, long and loud, and began to sob. There had been more than one reason I wanted Mrs Bennington to stay home.
Lord forbid a woman is upset by seeing the rotten body of her dead husband. Gordon has to drink some of Anita’s blood so that… things.
His hands felt like cold wax with sticks inside.
Nope. Wax is hard and, you know, waxy. Nothing like decomposing flesh.
I took a deep, steadying breath, breathe in and out. I would not be sick. Nope. I would not embarrass myself in front of this many people.
Anita, you are always made sick by everything you do. I suggest you move into a different line of work.
She asks Gordon how he died, and he reveals that he shot himself in the chest by accident, falling down the stairs. I think this guy needs to win a Darwin award. Carrying around a loaded weapon in a house with children in it? Yeah, that was clever. You’re lucky that something worse didn’t happen.
Also, everyone shits on Mrs Bennington for being upset by all of this. Silly women and their emotions!
Gordon asks whether his wife and children are going to get the insurance money now. They are – hang on. Gordon is treating it as if it’s a really serious matter that his wife and children get the money. I mean, yes, they deserve that money, but everyone is treating it as if the family would be impoverished without the money. But the Bennington’s are fantastically wealthy anyway! GAH.
“I miss you too, my little hell cat.”
She burst into sobs at that. Hiding her face in her hands. If one of the lawyers hadn’t grabbed her she’d have fallen to the ground.
“My little hell cat” didn’t sound like a term of endearment to me, but hey, it proved Gordon Bennington had really known his wife. It probably also proved that she would miss him for the rest of her life. I could forgive her a few temper tantrums in the face of that much pain.
OH OH OH SO NOW WHEN SHE’S BEEN VINDICATED BY A MAN, MRS BENNINGTON’S GRIEF IS ACCEPTABLE?
I just do not understand why LKH hates women so much.
Anita puts Gordon back in his grave and the cop who likes to shoot distressed women makes jokes about how you couldn’t pay him enough to do Anita’s job. Then Anita has a Feeling, Asher drops in from the sky, Anita shields him as all the police have drawn guns.
oh no what a calamity i wonder what might happen in a series where the author has said many times that she won’t hurt main characters