How I used a kid zombie as retribution

I’m not afraid to admit it – and I shouldn’t be since the events in question occurred more

than half-century ago – but I was the model for the bullied and belittled Jed Rivers, the title

character in “Dead Jed: Adventures of a Middle School Zombie.”

They say you should write what you know, and I knew nearly as much about zombies as I

did the feelings that accompanied being stuffed into a cafeteria trash can in the midst of Taco

Tuesday.

I grew up watching the zombie films of George Romero, particularly “Night of the Living

Dead,” which I consumed one Saturday evening when my parents were out, returning home to

find furniture piled against the windows. OK, it wasn’t that bad, but it scared the living heck out

of me in a way I loved. I was a zombie fan for life.

The part of Jed that is victim, well, that came unavoidably when I was in middle school.

My 4-foot-10-inch, 84-pound frame invited attention from those who suffered low self-esteem,

thus requiring displays of dominance to prove their worth at the expense of others. Back then, I

simply referred to them as complete and total assholes. (Quick aside – my 50 th high school

reunion is coming up, prompting me to look up one of my tormentors. He’s a retired minister

who volunteers at a homeless shelter. True story.)

Many of the things that happen in “Dead Jed” were personally experienced, the

difference being that I didn’t lose any of my limbs in the process. I did, however, lose my

dignity, especially when I was stuffed into the school’s trophy case. It was even more humiliating

when you consider A) there were few trophies; B) I fit handily; and C) it occurred across the hall

from the principal’s office.

Writing the book was cathartic in some ways. My primary bully (and it’s sad when I

realized I had to categorize them like that) was indeed named Robbie, and any resemblance to

the living or dead is absolutely intended. The PE and wood-shop teachers also are heavily

inspired by their flesh-and-blood counterparts, down to the way rule-breaking students in shop

had to stand deathly still in a small circle. You know why my bookshelf looked like an abstract

sculpture? Because I spent so much time in that damn circle.

“Dead Jed” allowed me the kind of retribution that victims rarely receive in real life. I’m

OK with that.