In the days that followed it almost seemed to Dib that he and Zim had always been beside each other. With Zim, Dib felt at ease as he had never had with another creature – not even his own mother. With Zim he shared his entire world: the private games he had once played alone, the secrets that he had kept locked within his heart. He showed Zim how to search for signs of paranormal activity, how to make a tin-foil hat, the correct method in which to trap and immobilized a ghost, and the names of every constellation that decorated the night sky.
Zim took in all the information with wide eyes and an open mind; he had a great thirst for learning that could never be quenched.
Within a barely a week Dib struggled to remember his life before he met Zim. He supposed it must have been a very dull and lonely world; all he could recall was a hallow emptiness, black as night.
"Why did you come to Earth?" Dib asked one day, he and Zim piled upon a signal bean-bag with a large pile of comic books and two cups of juice. A sudden chill ripped through Zim's body and set his teeth on edge, but Dib nor even (strangely enough) Zim himself seemed to notice.
"My leaders sent me here." Zim adjusted his borrowed baseball cap.
"Why?"
The chill returned, and with it froze the blood within Zim's veins. His skin broke out in goosebumps and for a moment his cap jumped as his antenna sprung in terror.
And just as briskly, the storm passed. " . . . Studying." Zim swallowed, moistening his suddenly dry throat. "Y-you know, to study different species and stuff. My people really like to learn about other planets."
Inside his body Zim's spooch stood completely still, holding his breath in anticipation. Thankfully, Dib appeared utterly oblivious to Zim's distress and merely smiled, and with his smile warmed the room far greater than the sun ever could.
"Well, I'm glad your leaders sent you here, 'cos then we got to be friends!" Beaming in the sun's rays Dib threw his arms around Zim's shoulders and held him so close in his grasp that one might have believed that the children were in fact one entity. "We'll always be friends, right Zim? Best friends! You promise?"
This time there was no chill; instead Zim felt his body radiate with innocent delight and he completely forgot his previous unease, or even the root from where it stemmed.
"I promise." Zim rubbed his antenna against Dib's cheeks, laughing astride his friend.
A little over two weeks had passed since first Dib made friends with the monster under his bed. One late afternoon, as the sun had just begun his slow descend towards dusk, Zim slipped through the open front door and charged up the stairs to Dib's room.
"Dib-thing, Dib-thing! There's lots of people acting crazy outside!"
Perched neatly on the window cill Dib looked over the rim of his Crop Circles magazine to where his friend stood, and then to the window. In the afternoon air cars rushed to and fro like wild things, the whole block alive with the drunken screams of foolish teenagers, and middle-aged men with bear-bellies and uneven strides. "There's a match on," said Dib knowledgeably. He slipped down from his perch and crossed the room to meet with Zim. The Irken cocked his head in confusion; beneath his borrowed cap his little antenna twitched in wonder.
"A match? Like a fight, you mean?"
Dib shook his head. "No, silly! A sports match." The fact that the 'match' was a sport was all Dib really knew about the matter; he had little to no idea whether the game was football, soccer or baseball, or something else altogether.
"What's a 'sports match'?"
Dib blinked, taken aback by the question. " . . . I don't know," he admitted. "My Daddy says it's an excuse for . . . 'tourists' and 'trailer trash' to get 'pissed', a-and drive like lunatics."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we have to play in the back yard today." Dib tossed aside his magazine; from beneath his bed he withdrew two giant Nerf guns, bright orange, and each almost half the size of the boys. On sight Zim's whole expression ignited into utter delight. "Come on!" Dib thrust one of the guns into Zim's awaiting arms. "I saw a vampire in the garden last night! Let's go get it!"
They leapt the stairs two at a time, overwhelmed in eagerness. As they reached the bottom of the stairs a sudden sheen of deep purple flashed by their eyes, and in its wake came the sobbing of one who had given into despair. "Hi Mommy, Zim's here!" Dib called cheerily, but ether Ros could not see nor hear him, or she ignored him. She slammed the front door behind her and moments later the familiar growling of the car engine burst into existence, and steadily it began to grow quieter as Ros drove away.
Zim turned to his friend. "What's wrong with your mother unit?" he asked.
Dib merely shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno." He could not even begin to count the numerous times he had caught his mother running into the restroom, kitchen, her bedroom or even – in desperate situations – the car, her eyes red and swollen, her face streaked with tears. In Dib's innocent world he could barely begin to conceive a concept in which a grown-up wept and thus he was blind to Ros's distress. That, and his father had told him many a times that Mommy was suffering from 'women's problems', and there was naught to worry about. Smiling, Dib pushed aside any passing concern and raised the Nerf gun. "Come on, let's go play!" he cried.
The back yard of the Membrane household was more than twice as large as the front; ten Acers of former woodland roamed the rear yard, with the farthest three Acers devoted entirely to Ros's gardening hobby. The organised land of perfectly primed rose bushes and small fruit trees was fenced off, leaving a plain ocean of unspoiled grassland free for the children to play on.
Pivoting on the balls of his feet Dib swerved around to face Zim, holding his own gun at an angle so that Zim could clearly see the toy's workings. "Okay, the guns are already loaded," Dib explained slowly, with as much pride as his five-year-old mind could muster. "To fire a pellet you gotta pull this little clicky bit up he-"
A bright orange pellet burst through the air and struck forcibly into Dib's arm. With a cry of shock he fell.
"Like that?" Zim raised his gun triumphantly to the sky, a victorious grin plastered to his face.
" . . . You jerk!" Dib plunged to his feet. "I wasn't ready yet!" He pulled the trigger, firing pellet after pellet, most of which Zim avoided, and with each dodge Dib cried out in frustration.
"Victory for Zim!" The Irken retaliated fast, leaping this way and that, shooting the orange bullets with a quick flash of his fingers. Soon the yard was flooded with the cries and laughter of the boys rushing about the garden, lost in the thrill of their game, and together their laughter drowned out the drunken cries from the front of the house.
When the sun started to graze the far-off horizon Membrane's voice called out to the children - a signal that their game was now at an end. "Son! Come inside now for dinner!"
Panting like dogs, both Zim and Dib lowered their Nerf guns, spluttering with glee. The grass around them was littered bright orange with the pellets. "We sh-should clear up first," Dib gasped. He set aside the gun and began the laborious task of collecting up the bullets. Zim copied. Despite his tender years Dib had a very good grasp of numbers, far exceeding the talents of his classmates in grade one. In his head he counted up the bullets one by one, his lips tracing the line of each number. And then, quite suddenly, he paled.
"Oh no! We're missing two!" he cried, turning desperately in all directions to capture a glimpse of orange.
Unfazed, Zim looked on. "I think I shot them over the door." He pointed across to the door; the only link between the front and back yards. "But it's no big deal, right? It's just two little pellets."
"You don't understand, I borrowed these from Gaz! She'll be so mad at me!" Dib wailed. A shudder swept throughout Zim's little body. He had only met Dib's volatile sister on a handful of occasions; Gaz may have been considerably smaller than her older brother, but she was far stronger, and her temper a frail thread which may snap at any moment.
Zim bit his lip. "I'll go get them. I shot them. Besides, you'll get into trouble if you go into the front yard."
At once all the fear drained from Dib's body, replaced by gratitude. "Thank you, Zim!" he smiled up at his friend. "Come back through when you've got them and we can eat dinner together!"
As Zim slipped off through the doorway Dib busied himself with gathering all the spent bullets into his arms. He dangerously balanced the guns atop the pile and carried them inside, carefully up the stairs so that nothing would upset. Gingerly, he placed the toys outside Gaz's bedroom and rushed back downstairs to meet with his father.
Professor Membrane was occupied with filling out important documents for his work; as Dib entered his office Membrane spun his chair around. "As your mother has gone out I'm gonna order Chinese take-out for dinner," he said. "Do you want your usual?"
"Yes please." Inside his head Dib cheered ecstatically; he adored Chinese take-out.
"Good . . ." Membrane consulted the menu. "Oh, is your friend staying for dinner too?"
An enormous grin became Dib's expression; he nodded happily. "Find out what he wants then," said Membrane lazily. "Oh, and tell Gaz to come here so she can choose what she wants."
"Yessir!" Dib rushed to speak with Gaz and hurriedly returned to the back-yard, but to his dismay Zim was yet to return. Odd, he thought. Did Zim shoot the bullets that far?! Dib's eyes fell upon the back door, open just a crack.
It was then, he noticed, just how quiet it was.
It took less than a second for Dib to decide to go searching for Zim. The match had long since ended and the air no long burned with drunken screams, but still, there was something all too unsettling about the silence. It set Dib's heart galloping like a steed. "Zim, where are you? Daddy's ordering take-out for dinner!" Dib raced onto the drive way and spun in all directions to locate his friend. "Zim, where are you?!"
. . . There. On the other side of the road, a little way up the block, was Zim. He lay on the ground, oddly enough, his back to Dib, as if reaching into a tiny crack for the missing bullets. "There you are!" called Dib cheerfully. The roads were clear so he crossed with ease. "Daddy's ordering take-out for dinner, so you need to come and choose what you want. I'm having special fried rice and duck in orange sauce! You can try some if you want."
Zim did not respond. He remained utterly still. On his back the largest spot of his PAK flashed feebly, like a dying torch light in the darkness.
"Come on, Zim, let's go for dinner!" Dib tried again, still cheerful despite the foul smell of the drains. "Chinese take-out is so good, and after we can play some more." He reached out and took ahold of Zim's arm. "Zim, did you fall asleep?" He pulled once. Zim rolled over.
And the world around him came crashing down. "N-no . . . Z-Zim . . ." Dib fell to his knees; pain lashed throughout his body as his knees struck the concrete but he barely notice. He knew what that sickly smell was, not from the drains at all. He knew by the deep gash that blazed across Zim's head, oozing dark indigo all over the ground. "Z-Zim, please get up!" Dib's glasses fogged over and all he could see was Zim laying there, completely still. "You have to get up, Zim! Daddy's getting take-out for dinner! Z-Zim, you promised! You promised you'd be my friend forever! Zim, please get up!" He shook Zim desperately, his face running a river. He bent down and kissed Zim's dry lips, as though that might wake him up as it always did in the movies.
But Zim could not hear him, he could not respond. His eyes were open, gazing up into nothingness. Where once they shone like an ocean of lava now they were dull as shade. They saw nothing but black.
"Z-Zim. . . P-please . . ." Dib's glasses fell away. When he lifted his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes he noticed how they were coated in a sheen of blue, as dark as the despair he suddenly found himself drowning in. Alone again, Dib buried his head in Zim's unmoving chest and soaked his friend with his tears.
Happy April 1st! Please rate and review ;p