That, then—both parts of Abner being buried, and him also being beheaded—must have triggered the zombieplague.
I felt sorry for the oldguy.
“Gnock-gnock.”
Scratch that. I didn’t feel sorry for him atall.
“Who’s there?” Abner answeredhimself.
“Oh, gods, no,” I said. “You do not get to do both parts of thisjoke.”
“Banana,” Abnersaid.
“Do not say banana who,” Iordered.
“Banana who?” Abner said. Then: “Gnock-gnock.”
I groaned. “Make him stop. Hogan, whatever you do, make himstop.”
“Who’s there?” Abner asked. “Banana!”
“I don’t think,” Hogan frowned. “There’s…I don’t see any way to stop this. Not…it’s not like the wish comes withinstructions.”
“Banana who?” Abner shouted. “Gnock-gnock!”
“Do something,” I said. “Anything at this point would be good. A yip. A yop.Anything.”
Hogan puffed out a laugh. “Ayop? What does that evenmean?”
“It means stop laughing at your girlfriend and do some jinni stuff to fix thegnome.”
“Who’s there?” Abner stage whispered, his eyes going shiftily back andforth.
The doorbell rang. The screamscreamed.
“Trick or treat!” Maybe it was my imagination, but that was a very lowvoice.
“And what are you supposed to be?” Myra asked in a tone that sounded like she was trying to hold back alaugh.
“You must give me the candy, or I shall trickyou.”
My gaze snapped up and met Delaney’s. That was Death. A breeze much chillier than the temperature outside pushed in through the door and dropped the air in the living room by severaldegrees.
“He’s here to kill Abner,” Delaneysaid.
“Banana,” Abner whisperedloudly.
I suddenly wondered why we were fighting this. Maybe letting Abner go to the great—wherever gnomes went when they were dead, revived, then dead again—was his destiny. Hisfate.
I could probably even ask Fate aboutthat.
“Maybe we’re thinking about this the wrong way,” Isaid.
“That’s not how trick or treat works,” Myra said. “First, I get to guess your costume. Then maybe you get candy. Let’s see, are you abutterfly?”
“No.”
I couldn’t tell if he was delighted or disgusted with thisgame.
