by Michael Noe
“Pretty much. I’m sure there are others that want to be found. I’m just not one of them.” I didn’t want to make this easy, or pretend that I gave a shit about her feelings. It wasn’t who I was. I was the guy who watched other people die. If we were walking together and a group of zombies approached, I would shove her toward them and run away screaming.
“You’re a chicken shit. How can you say that? There’s no one else around. Aren’t you at least curious about me? Where I came from?” Her words all ran together as if they were all one sentence. I could only stare at her and shrug. I did want to know all those things, but that would bond us together. Things were different now. There were no bonds anymore.
“It wouldn’t do either of us any good. Yeah, I may be a chicken shit, but guess what? I’m alive. I intend to stay that way.”
“I’m Audrey,” She began and then shook her head as she realized that she was probably wasting her breath. I could feel my resolve weaken the longer she stood there. “I’m sorry I bothered you.” She made a step toward the door and then I did the worst thing I could do. I stopped her.
I can’t tell you why I did it, but I did. You ever watch one of those romantic dramas? You know the one where the woman finally gives up and begins to walk away and the guy stops her? I never understood why until that moment with Audrey. It was the way the setting sun reflected in her hair, and the way her scent filled the room. If she left I would be kicking myself later. It was possible that she didn’t need a hero. What she needed was a friend. Doesn’t everyone? It was a moment of weakness. We all have them.
“I’m sorry. Don’t go. At least let me make you dinner.” It was a lame attempt to keep her there but I couldn’t help notice that she was smiling. It was as if she knew I wouldn’t let her leave. She had won and I bet she was gloating inside.
“I accept your apology. You able to make a cheeseburger?” She held out her hand and I shook it. I felt something that I haven’t felt in a very long time. Maybe it was the Xanax, but I suddenly didn’t want her to leave. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if I didn’t know what to say to her.
“Unfortunately, I can’t but I do have plenty of soup, and there’s a shit load of junk food. I also have beer and soda. By the way. I’m Matt. Despite what I said, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I watched her for a moment and was amazed by how comfortable she seemed. It was almost as if she belonged here with me. It was silly of course because I knew that if things were different, we wouldn’t even be here together.
“This is your place?” She was looking at the various pictures on my wall and tracing the spines of the books that I had been collecting. It wasn’t even like she was asking me, she was just observing my space. I couldn’t remember the last time I had anyone in my house. It felt a little odd. Worse yet was that I couldn’t remember the last time I had a woman here.
“Yeah, I’ve lived here for about five years now. Are you from Milford?” I asked, knowing that she wasn’t. If she had lived on this street, I would have seen her before that day.
She shook her head and sat next to me on the couch. Not too close, but close enough so that if I wanted to I could reach out and touch her hand. If this were a movie, I would have already had her naked and been balls deep inside of her. It would be romantic of course, but still, we would have been fucking. It was survivor 101. Two strangers meet and their clothes come off and they began to make mad passionate love because that’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s an itch that needs to be scratched.
“No. Not from around here. I just kind of ended up here. It’s a nice neighborhood. I would have loved to live in a place like this.” Her voice was tinged with sadness. I sensed that there was something else she wanted to say, but was maybe too embarrassed to say it. I wondered what she was like before all this happened. I wish I could have followed her for just one day to see where she went, and what she did. Now I’m sounding like a stalker. Funny how things work out sometimes.
I’m sure she was completely different than the woman I saw right then. She seemed lost and deep in thought as we ate soup that I heated over a propane stove. Our first meal together was Italian Wedding soup and instant coffee. She seemed impressed that I had so much bottled water. It was the only thing of value anymore. I wasn’t trying to impress her, but I did. I hadn’t gone totally insane when the world crashed and burned. We sat on my back porch after our meal. The sun was sinking slowly while I smoked and she drank a beer.
“Where are you from?” I asked, hoping to engage her in a conversation that didn’t revolve around her helping me, or just the usual banter that new people find themselves mired in. I knew that like me she was an only child, but there the similarities ended. She and I were from totally different backgrounds. Her family was lower middle class that laughed a lot and loved each other. They weren’t perfect, but is any family? What amused us both was how everyone put such an emphasis on wealth, but now there was no wealth. Gone were the economic structures that divided us.
I doubt that she and I would have met in our past lives. She was a waitress struggling to make ends meet. It’s weird how looking at us you could see just how different we would have been, but once you took away the economics and the idea that because she was poor she was somehow beneath me. We were never going to meet, or even talk because there were so many differences. I could tell you that she was pretty so what she earned didn’t matter. It did. Back then, I would have wanted to take care of her and she would have resisted and felt as if she were somehow taking advantage of me.
“Where were you when the world went to shit?” She peeled the label off her beer bottle and placed it on her leg. The night was silent as usual, but tonight the dark didn’t seem so oppressive. I hate to admit it but it felt good to have someone to talk to.
I stared out into the backyard, contemplating on what I wanted to tell her. The truth was awful because I had been selfish. I had watched others die so that I could live. I could lie and say that as I sat there next to her. I know I should have felt terrible for what I did but the truth was I didn’t. If given the chance to go back in time, I would do it all over again. I was here not because I was a hero. I was here because I was a coward. “I was right here. Don’t ask me to explain because I don’t think you want to know. We all make choices. I made mine and I’m sure you made yours.”
She laughed softly and stared into the shadows. It was as if she were waiting for something, or someone. “It’s funny isn’t it? It always comes down to choices. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. Maybe someday you will.”
“Someday? You think this was an invite for you to hang out?” It was an asshole thing to say, but I felt as if I needed to say it. The further away from me the better off she was. I couldn’t do anything for her and I knew that at some point I would fail her. It was the only thing I was good at.
I was the terrible boyfriend and the shitty friend. I would say the right things so that I could get them to do what I wanted. It was a game to get them to do what I wanted. The women I encountered often needed something to convince them that they were pretty or that they were smart. They lacked self-esteem which made it easier for me to pick them up. It’s amazing how well women respond to compliments. Their legs part like the red sea and when I was done with them, I was able to walk away cleanly, without the usual guilt or attachments. In business, it was important to act like everyone mattered, even when you didn’t really give a shit. I was great at making people feel important but the truth was that they weren’t. I had no friends but you have to understand that I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I didn’t want the attachments that came with it. I didn’t want people to feel that I was reliable and that I would be the person who would never let them down. If given the opportunity, I would and I would do it as often as possible.
“Why do you want me to leave so badly?”
I sighed and looked at her. There was so much I wanted to say, but couldn’t. It was all swarming around in my head, ready t
o come tumbling out of my mouth. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“Yes, there does. You’re the first person I’ve seen in months. I thought it would be different you know? I don’t know.” She stopped talking and looked at me.
“You thought you’d come across some merry band of survivors looking to take on the world?” I smiled and felt bad for her. She was clearly deluded.
Audrey shrugged and I could see her shoulders sag. She looked exhausted and quite disappointed. “Maybe. It just seemed as if I’d find someone that was glad to see another person. Instead, I got you.”
Thanks,” I began. “I know what you mean though. I’m trying to save my own ass. You need someone better than me. I don’t want to be a hero.” It was out and I wondered when she was going to start judging me. I was being selfish but it was who I was. This was me at the end of the world. Don’t look for people because in the end, they were all going to become needy and saddle you down with their bullshit. People always disappointed me. They appeared so much better than they really were. This would only make things worse.
I looked at Audrey and knew that she was better off somewhere else. Anywhere else than here with me. I looked at her though and knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. This was the type of woman who always got her way. I could see it in the way she sat and even talked to me. She was staring at me as if I were some new species of bug she had just discovered. “Who says I’m asking you to be one?” She stopped and I could see her shuffle nervously. “Maybe I just need someone to talk to. A friend. I think now more than ever we could use friends.”
In that moment I wanted to be whatever she needed. Audrey sounded sad, and I don’t think I have ever heard anyone sound so alone. I couldn’t even voice the way I felt, yet she did it just in the way she spoke and looked at me. There were people that couldn’t handle being alone. It drove them to suicide. There were also those that thought they would be alright on their own, but as the days stretch on, they realize that they’re just no good by themselves.
“What makes you think I would be a good friend? There’s a lot of things that could happen. You could end up hating me, or I could hate you. You ever think that I may not want a friend?”
“You say that, but you don’t really mean it. You’re trying to push me away because deep down you’re afraid that something will happen or you’ll let me down somehow. In everything, there’s a risk.”
“I don’t want you to think more of me than I am. Why do I get the feeling that you’re staying despite what I say?” I was slowly losing control and there was nothing I could do to regain it. She smiled at me and I felt all of my reservations slip away. Was it a bad idea? Of course it was. The world was full of bad ideas. No good ideas exist. They may seem that way in theory but technically they all have the potential to turn bad.
“You’re right. I wasn’t leaving. I figured I’d just wear you down until you gave in. I can tell you that I have no thoughts of you being anything other than a friend. We’ll have plenty of time to disappoint each other.”
We settled into a comfortable silence and eventually made it back inside the house. We didn’t talk much which bothered me because I had so many questions and I know that she had them too. We talked about nothing and for now, that was enough. Why talk about things that didn’t matter? They would at some point but this was the awkward stage. There were limits and boundaries that we needed to adhere to. I won’t lie and tell you that I wasn’t attracted to her. I was. Any man would have been. Aside from the warbler, she was the first woman I had seen in a long time.
We only talked. No sex and as much as I wanted to kiss her, I didn’t make a move. She didn’t either for that matter and I think if I had, it would have cheapened the moment. We played cards until almost dawn and talked about failed relationships and where we grew up. I found out she was from Barberton and spent many summer days at Lake Anna with her nose stuck in a book. She wasn’t my type at all. She was too smart for me, but I didn’t care because finally I had someone to talk to. It was a new feeling and one that baffled me.
I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I tossed and turned, but sleep kept eluding me. My mind would wander to Audrey and what she was sleeping in. Was she thinking about me? I felt like a horny teenager and eventually fell asleep, but I dreamt of zombies. What the hell was I getting into? I felt everything begin to suddenly spin out of control. I was headed toward something yet I had no idea what it was and that scared the hell out of me.
Chapter Eight: An interlude
I remember once when I was maybe eight or nine, I went to this haunted house. I had seen my fair share of horror films but nothing can prepare you for seeing it up close and in your face. I was a scrawny kid with a bunch of scrawny friends who would eventually grow up and abuse their trust funds. We all knew that the haunted house was fake, but there’s something about the dark that alters your sense of reality. Hearing the screams as people were scared to the point of shitting themselves does a lot to your sense of reality. You can tell yourself that nothing is going to actually hurt you but the moment you start fumbling around in the dark and that first monster pops out at you, it no longer seems fake.
As I moved through the dark I knew that nothing could hurt me, but once something touched me, I forgot everything. I did the only thing I could think of and I screamed. I never looked at horror films the same way. When the world went to hell, I knew that the monsters were real. I was suddenly that scared nine-year old, fumbling in the dark again. This time there were no exits, and there was no light waiting to take me out into the chilly night air. There wouldn’t be any hot chocolate waiting for me either. That’s the moment I realized there are moments which stand out in my mind that are as fresh as the day they happened.
Being in that haunted house was one, and exactly where I was when the dead started attacking was another. There’s nothing that can prepare you for real fear. No pep talk can prepare a soldier for death. All you can do is keep walking and hope that you have enough dignity not to cry. It’s a fear that I still have. Any time I walk outside, I know that I could die, and the funny thing is that I walked into that haunted house excited about being scared. Times certainly do change, don’t they? We spent tons of money to be scared, but now all you have to do is walk outside.
My mother was never one to like horror movies but she always told me that nothing on that screen could hurt me. She was wrong. There are things out there that can hurt you. The world is a scary place with monsters that put the Hollywood version to shame. I thought that being inside my house would protect me but what I didn’t count on was being dragged out, kicking and screaming. There’s no way to avoid all the bad stuff in the world. I wish my mom had told me that, but she was only doing what she thought was right. She wanted to protect me. All parents do it, but in the end, it does more harm than good.
Monsters are real. I’ve seen them. They wear human faces and look almost human. I want to be eight years old again and back inside that haunted house. At least then I knew that nothing could harm me. I’m scared all the time. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I want my mother to tuck me into bed at night and tell me that nothing is going to harm me. Monsters only exist in our heads. Nothing bad will happen to me. I wish this were all a dream. More than anything, I want to wake up safe in my own bed and get ready for another boring day which doesn’t end with me feeling grateful that I cheated death.
I won’t ever win any awards for bravery, but it got me to this point so that you could read about me and maybe, just maybe you’ll understand why I’ve done things I’ve done. Does it make it better somehow? Will I ever feel guilty? I don’t think so. I just keep telling myself I had no choice. The thing is, there is always a choice. Every action leads to some sort of karmic reaction. I truly believe that now.
Chapter Nine: We’re Off to See the Wizard
Audrey was getting restless. Her constant pacing was driving me insane and it took a lot of effort to be nice to her. We hadn’t gone out much
because of the rain. You could smell it in the air and feel it in the breeze that passed through the open window. I also knew that she would be leaving soon. I didn’t want to see her go, but I also didn’t want to go with her.
“I wish this rain would stop. Jesus.” She opened the front door and stood there so she could feel it on her skin. It was the closest thing she would get to a shower and I wondered when she would just run out in it with her face turned up to the clouds. In this moment, she wasn’t a twenty-five-year-old woman. She was thirteen and on the verge of greatness. The whole world was at her feet. It was hers for the taking.
I longed to feel that invincibility again. When you’re young, nothing can stop you. Time was the enemy that you just couldn’t stop. Everything was possible back then. It was nearing summer and that was the time I felt most alive and free. “It’ll stop and you can get to wherever it is you’re going.”
She turned toward me and frowned. “So I can’t change your mind and get you to come with me?”
I shook my head. “Not a chance. There’s nothing out there for me, or you either. At least here, we’re safe.”
“Yeah, but for how long? Have you thought beyond days, or even weeks?”
I hadn’t. I had learned a long time ago that making long term plans always got you into trouble. As I said this to her, I could see her disappointment in the way she looked at me. I have to admit that I was falling in love with her. It killed me to let her go, but I also couldn’t stop her. We had been together for a week and in that time, I got to see her at her most vulnerable. The problem was, I knew that our lives would follow two separate paths. There was no way I was going to tell her how I felt. What good would it do? We weren’t in high school and there was a real possibility she didn’t feel the same way about me. I knew a lot about her. I knew that every boyfriend she ever had let her down somehow. She picked the wrong men and in the end, they all left and pulled the same shit on other women.