Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse (Part 1)

by Felicia Jedlicka

  Garrett nodded and came up behind me. For a moment, once again betrayed by the visions of romantic novels forever stashed in my brain, I thought he might have intended to rub my shoulders, or kiss my neck. Instead he took my wooden spoon and gently shoved me aside.

  Not sure what to do I just leaned on the island and watched him do my job. He immediately adjusted the heat on the pan and added more water. At first I thought he was doing it to look like he knew what he was doing, but it was clear after he started doctoring with spices that he was familiar with cooking.

  “Am I that bad of a cook?” I asked when he sipped the sauce. He dipped the spoon back in and gave me a come hither finger with his free hand. I moved to slurp the hot liquid and nodded. “I am that bad of a cook.”

  “Not bad. You haven’t killed anyone have you?”

  “With my food, no. I doubt August would have let me join otherwise.” I sat down at the table and propped my feet up. It was just dinner, but it felt like pampering.

  “You do realize she didn’t bring you in just to cook and clean.” Garrett said turning more attention to me than the skillet.

  “Of course she did. I’m the non-fighter. What else am I going to do to earn my keep?”

  “First off, no she didn’t. She invited you into the group because you were clearly lonely and needed some friends.” I crossed my arms like being accused of loneliness was something to be ashamed of. “Second, you are officially a fighter and third, most importantly, you don’t have to earn my sister’s friendship to keep it. She loves unconditionally.”

  “Then why didn’t she say something. I’ve been cooking and cleaning for them since I joined.”

  “Well,” Garrett smirked, “she’s not stupid.” I let my mouth hang open as I thought about how many times I wished someone would clean up after themselves. Apparently, they might have if I hadn’t been doing it for them. “You should have been a little worse at cooking; then she would have offered more help.”

  I scoffed and threw a bundle of napkins off the table at him. He smiled at the pubescent attack. It was a real smile, one I hadn’t seen before. It made his hard muscular face seem softer. He looked younger when he smiled. To my dismay it didn’t last, and he was back to stirring the supper.

  -Are we done yet?-

  It had been nearly three months since I had been left with Garrett to train. Our living arrangement was starting to grate on me. He was starting to open up, and be friendlier, but he was still a rather boring companion. He wouldn’t reveal too much about himself, and in the end what little attraction I had for him was turned off by his distance.

  When the rain came, I thought cabin fever might force him to converse more, but he had other plans. “Here put this on.” Garrett threw a poncho at me.

  I stared at the plastic coat paused in mid chew of my Lucky Charms. “What for?”

  “You’ll want to stay dry if possible. Training in the rain sucks.”

  “It’s not raining, it’s pouring.”

  “Yeah, but you aren’t going to be snoring.” He quipped deadpan.

  I proceeded to nibble on my not-so-lucky charms like he wasn’t there. His patience was always paper thin, but he waited for me to finish my meal, before pulling my bowl from me. I took as much time as I needed and wanted to get my shoes and poncho on. All the while, Garrett was threatening a tantrum.

  When I finally met him at the door he offered me a look that told me he was trying not to blow up over such a trifling thing as my slow motion morning starts. “Well let’s get out there pokey.” I motioned to the door without any hint of humor in my voice. Instead of glaring like I expected him to, he smiled. My face scrunched in confusion to the rare anomaly. “What’s so funny?”

  “Just for that I’m going to work you until you puke.”

  “Ah, the bulimia workout today, fun.”

  “Are you ever going to take this seriously?” He asked.

  “Are you ever going to not take it seriously?” He shook his head. “Well, then somebody’s got to put some personality into the mix.” He looked me over like he wanted to respond to that statement, but instead opened the door for me to exit.

  The rain was coming down particularly hard and fast. My poncho served to keep my shirt dry, but since the yard was saturated there was really no hope of keeping my shoes and pants dry. “This won’t last long. We can wait until it’s done.” I turned to see Garrett’s refusal for myself, but he wasn’t behind me. “Damn it.” I whipped around, offering the sheeting veil around me a cursory glance, but he wasn’t around.

  I already knew this wasn’t going to be fun. Somewhere between looking for a weapon and wondering if my shoes were machine washable, I was pushed to the ground. I flipped over to defend myself, but he was gone.

  I got to my feet and scanned again. Aside from the yard directly around the house, we didn’t mow down much of the acreage. The foliage on the outskirts had taken over in short order. An abundance of lilac bushes, and cedar trees had staked a claim on anything we left alone. At this point I could barely see beyond the rain anyway.

  I was pushed down again before I even finished my scan. I jumped up quick hoping to catch his escape, but he was gone. I ran away from my spot hoping to find solace of my own behind a bundle of fountain grass.

  I waited there for some time, before my feet were kicked out beneath me. I face planted in the mud. This time I didn’t bother getting up fast. Garrett had established his game. He was going to bowl me over like an overeager dog until I stopped him. Every time he managed to knock me down, I should consider myself dead.

  Since remaining dry was no longer a task I could accomplish I ripped off the poncho. With it off I had far better hearing and peripheral. I wondered if Garrett intended for me to figure that out.

  Instead of staying in one spot I moved rapidly bush to bush, and in and out of tall grasses. I wasn’t sure if it served any purpose, but it would look good until I figured out something else to do.

  My butt burned from a drive by spanking. I caught a glimpse of Garrett running away and I bolted after him. If he was the runaway dog, than I could be a dog catcher. He glanced back and saw me coming up to him. He made a quick turn through a white trellis arch to evade me.

  I followed the bush line and ran through the arch. His arm shot out before I could stop. I was close lined and slammed into the ground. I could barely breathe and by the time I could, he was gone again.

  I cursed and got up. I padded back into the middle of the yard and waited. Hiding wasn’t doing me any good. I might as well go back to what worked for me: being bait.

  I braced myself for an attack and waited. I couldn’t rely on my sight, since I was practically standing under a waterfall. I could barely hear over the downpour. I couldn’t outrun him. I had only one option left: my brain.

  I was doomed.

  I stood facing the driveway. The house was to my left and the bulk of the foliage to my back. That meant he was likely going to come from my back. The yard stretched out farther to my right. That meant that he would have farther to go to disappear behind a bush. I suspected that he would angle toward the house, so he could disappear behind it. That way he could pop back out on the other side back in the safety of the foliage. It sounded logical anyway.

  I heard the splotch of footsteps when he was practically on me already. I didn’t hesitate. I dropped low throwing out my left leg to the side. He missed his target and skidded through the wet grass.

  Not entirely satisfied with my win, I leapt on top of him straddling his chest and pinning his arms with the weight of my knees. He tried to bring his legs up to lasso my neck, but I gave him a hard crotch shot. He coughed and spluttered. I could tell he didn’t want to show his pain, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

  I could see his eyes searching for an escape. I held up my fist to his face. “Move and I make you a falsetto.” He relaxed his head back and let his arms give up the struggle. “Do I win?”

  “You already lost four t
imes. We can go again and if you beat me another three times, then we can call it a draw.”

  Without warning I punched him in the crotch again. He groaned and huffed in shock at my unnecessary violence. I was surprised by it myself, but I was sick of the training. I was sick of him looking down at me. I was also sick of having the crap beat out of me. “What the hell, Lenore?”

  “Do I win?!” I yelled in his face. He looked confused, so I punched him in the jaw. His expression of confusion was replaced by shocked anger. “Are we done?!” I hit him again, even though my fist felt like I had hit a brick wall.

  I wasn’t sure what he saw in my expression to wipe away his anger, but it died away as swiftly as it came. I moved to punch him in the face again. I had no purpose. I just wanted to hurt him. “Okay!” He said interrupting my enthusiasm for his pain. “You win, Lenore.” My hand was still primed, but it was shaking. I didn’t want to put it down. I knew he was only trying to appease me to keep me from beating in his face any further.

  “I hate you.” I hissed. “Everything is different because of you. I liked the way things were. I was happy. I was happy, you bastard.”

  “Lenore.” I could hear the paternal tone in his voice. He was just trying to talk a jumper off a ledge. I jumped off of him before I could hear his pathetic negotiations for my calmness.

  It wouldn’t have helped though. I was finally mad. I hadn’t been mad when August left me. I hadn’t been mad when Garrett pretended to rape me. I hadn’t been mad the first time he gave me a black eye, or the subsequent dozen. I had spent more than enough time being sad and scared, it was time to be mad, and I didn’t want him trying to talk me down from it.

  I stalked off with no particular direction in mind. I wanted to go see Priest, but he didn’t need or want to see my latest battle wounds. I walked along the road in hopes that I could just keep walking. I still wasn’t brave enough for that, but it was a coward’s dream. I managed to make it a mile before Garrett’s motorcycle rumbled up behind me.

  He slowed to a stop just ahead of me, and pulled off his helmet. The rain had let up and I could see he was starting to get a little black eye where the second punch hit, but it wasn’t nearly as big as I would have preferred. “You’ll catch a cold out here.”

  I stopped and stared him down. I wanted to say something, but I ended up just waiting him out. I talked enough for the both of us. He could try to get a conversation rolling for once.

  “Why don’t you let me take you back, Lenore? A shower and some warm soup, how does that sound?”

  “Like placation. Like appeasement. Like a bribe. I’m done Garrett. Everyone has their bad days, but I’m tired of this. I’m tired of you. I want my life back. The apocalypse sucks enough. I’m not going to spend every waking moment preparing for the worst case scenario.”

  “If you want to survive—“

  “Survive?! No one gives a shit about that! The world is full of people who didn’t survive, and I envy them! I would have rather been on the first bus out of here, but if there is another one coming, then bring it on, because I don’t much care anymore.”

  Garrett looked at his feet. “Are you giving up?”

  “I gave up…the day I figured out my God left me here.” My eyes watered with the thought abandonment from a being I’d never met. It shouldn’t have hurt still, but it did. Admitting to Garrett I wasn’t an atheist probably wasn’t wise, but I didn’t care anymore. “You can belittle me all you want about it, but I’m not a coward, and I’m not lazy. I just don’t care.” I started to walk away.

  “That’s why she chose you.”

  I stopped. “Because I don’t care?” I sneered.

  “No, because you do care. You care that He left you.” I didn’t respond. He got off his bike and met me in the road. “You don’t have to fight for Him though. You can fight for August. You can fight for me. It doesn’t matter, because in the end, you’re just fighting for yourself.” He put his hand out and I stared at it.

  “I’m not going back. I’m sick of fighting you.”

  “Good because my jaw hurts like hell. Remind me not to piss you off again.” He winked at me and I couldn’t help but smile because it reminded me of Devin, which conversely made me sad again. “Come on. Let me buy you something pretty to make up for the last three months.”

  I rolled my eyes, but eventually he lured me onto his bike. He took off fast, and I was forced to hang on tight. I gave into it though, because he was warm and the wind on my wet clothes was making me cold. Instead of heading home, we went into town.

  -Shopping Around-

  When I came out of the dressing room, Garrett had found a chair he could lounge in. My selection of blue jeans and sweatshirt made him wrinkle his nose. “I thought the intention was to buy you something pretty?”

  “You can buy me something pretty, but I still need dry clothes to wear home so I don’t freeze to your motorcycle seat.”

  “Fair enough, why don’t you try on a dress next?”

  I wrinkled my nose this time. “I don’t like dresses.”

  “And yet when I first met you, you were wearing one.”

  “That’s different. I was…drunk.”

  “Oh, I see. If I remember correctly it didn’t fit you that well.”

  “It fit too well.” I mumbled ripping the tag from my sweatshirt.

  “Pick out a new one, one that you can breathe in.” I perked an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. “Humor me. I need a little entertainment. A fashion show hardly compares to football, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

  I looked around the room and found a display of dresses. I nodded to them. “You can’t choose football, but I’ll let you choose the dress.”

  He smirked. “The blue one.” He said without even looking over to the rack.

  I tracked down a blue dress in my size and tried it on. It wasn’t my style, in that it wasn’t machine washable, but it did look good on me. It was a nice length and the low back offered the opportunity to go braless. Every woman’s dream.

  I came out and twirled for Garrett. “That’ll do.”

  I resisted the urge to say anything, but I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his failed attempt at flattery. He either wasn’t as keen on the blue dress as he thought he would be, or he just didn’t want to let me know it.

  “Now try on the pink one.”

  I glanced over at the dress rack. “There are no pink ones.”

  “On that rack.” He motioned to my other side.

  I shook my head. “That’s not a dress, that’s a negligee.”

  “I don’t speak French. Will it fit?”

  “Why would I get a satin nightgown? They’re hot in the summer and freezing in winter.” I asked crossing my arms. I was almost positive this was him flirting, but he might have just wanted to amuse himself with a live Victoria Secret commercial.

  “Don’t you want something to wear when Devin gets back? I assume you want to finish that night you started with him at the fire. The night I came into town.”

  I shrugged and went back into the dressing room to change. For some men there was a fine line between flirting and teasing, this was leaning toward teasing and I wasn’t going to play along. I had plenty of things to make fun of myself for, I didn’t need his help.

  “Or did I read that wrong?” He asked from outside. “I’m not the best at interpreting women, but I kind of got the impression you liked him.”

  “We aren’t a couple or anything. Devin isn’t that type of guy.”

  “Yeah, I know he studs out, but that doesn’t answer my question. Is he your stud?”

  I debated on telling him it was none of his business, but since he was making it his business, perhaps he had a reason to know. “No, he’s not.”

  The pink nightgown dropped over the top of the door onto my head. “You want him to be though, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s complicated.” I slipped into the nightgown even though I knew I would never wear it. “Why do
you care? Since when do you follow soap operas?”

  “Are you trying that on or not?”

  “Yes, hang on.” I adjusted the fabric so it didn’t cling too tightly to anything that didn’t need emphasis and opened the door without leaving the dressing room. “There, happy?”

  He was back in his chair, leaning his face into his hand like he was bored to death. After a moment of gawking he took in a deep breath and shook his head. “No, you’re right. You don’t want that.”

  I slammed the door and changed back into my jeans and sweatshirt. When I came out with my wet clothes in hand and no dress, Garrett went back in to grab it. I glared at him. “I’ll never wear that.”

  “Yes, you will.” He said hooking me around the back and ushering me to the front counter.

  “No, I won’t.”

  Garrett slipped behind the counter and folded the dress neatly into tissue paper before putting it into a bag. “One night when Devin is back, you’ll get the nerve up to knock on his door. He won’t be able to resist you in this.”

  “Says the man with the high compliment of, “that’ll do.””

  He handed me the bag and came back around the counter. “It will do, for Devin.” He leaned against the counter next to me like I was stupid for not understanding what he meant.

  I furrowed my brow. “I’m missing something. You don’t like the blue dress personally, but you think Devin will.”

  “Well, that’s what this is about isn’t it, attracting Devin?” I looked down at the bag like it was a trap waiting to be unleashed.

  “I thought this was about you sucking up so I don’t punch you in the jaw again.”

  “Sure, coming to get the dress was about that. Getting you out of the house to depressurize your steam was about that. The choice of dress is about attracting attention. Whose attention depends on what you buy?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t figure out how to ask what I wanted to ask without making it entirely obvious what I was asking. Garrett patiently watched me, waiting for my gaping mouth to serve some purpose. He on the other hand wasn’t flustered in the least by the topic of conversation.