by D. Henbane
Haus actually did enjoy sauerkraut, but a little goes along way, and the idea of living off of it made him sick to his stomach. The sun had completely set in the sky, darkness was fast approaching, and he could see the light green flickers of fire flies darting around in the dimming air. Amy exited the vehicle, joining Haus near the trunk, a giggle exited her lips.
Haus shot her a look of disbelief, but it only caused her to burst out loud into laughter. Amy heaved forward, struggling to gain oxygen into her convulsing lungs, with tears streaming down her face. Haus angrily kicked the gravel, spinning around as he quelled his anger.
“I love how you think this is funny! I don't find one damn bit of it funny.” Haus said. Amy was finally able to compose herself, a half-hearted chuckle escaping every few seconds, until she was straight faced once again.
“You should have been more specific.” Amy said, one again bursting into laughter, this time not nearly as intense. Haus wrinkled his brow and slammed the trunk shut. Haus looked at Amy again; her youthful pale skin cast an orange like glow as it reflected the last of the sun's rays. He looked at her eyes, locked his gaze for a minute, and a fire fly landed on her cheek. She didn't acknowledge its presence as she stood staring back at Haus.
The small insect flashed small pulses of light from its abdomen; the green glow reflected off her eyes, the light bent by the convex shape repeated the image several times. It reminded Haus of watching a firework burst into the dark sky on Independence day. The smell of the warm muggy air had a sickly sweetness to it, a small bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he felt the blood rush to his face.
He hadn't felt like this in years, like he was teleported back to a junior high dance, and he was looking at... What was her name? I honestly don't know or care. Haus almost had to remind himself to breathe, his body sending a subtle signal to his brain that the carbon dioxide needed to be expelled sooner rather than later. He exhaled slightly and drew in a large breathe of the night air. Amy was the first to break the silence. “So do want to go knock off a 711 or what?” She said jokingly.
A wide smile streaked across his face that twisted slightly into a devilish grin. “That sounds like a great idea Bonnie.” Haus tossed her a wink as he pretended to tip his hat, he imagined it resting upon his head, a vintage wide-brimmed hat to complete the illusion. Haus opened the passenger door to the Corolla, motioning for Amy to get in. “Ladies first.” He said in a gentlemen-like tone.
Amy blushed a little, dipping slightly in a curtsy, holding her arms out as if she was holding out the corners of a dress. “Sure thing Clyde.” Amy said as she sat down in the passenger seat. Haus quickly closed the door and regained the driver's seat. The car sputtered as he turned the key, and to both of their relief started, and they were once again heading down the road; the headlamps of the car casting shadows as they drove along the old gravel road, both eyes staring out in the darkness for signs of civilization.
***
Ed's Bait and Tackle. The hand painted sign was illuminated by the cars headlights, as Haus peered inside, while Amy sat in the car, doors locked just in case. It wasn't her idea to lock the doors, it was Haus's, she was a big girl and capable of taking care of herself. She just played along with it; because she thought it was cute he was always trying to protect her.
Haus had that big brother aura about him to her, but lately she has sensed that something about him had changed. His remarks were not nearly as snarky; they had become somewhat softer, as if he saw her more as an equal rather than a little girl. In her mind that was a good thing, she despised be treated like a princess, a child hood working hard on the farm had firmly removed any notions of being treated like royalty.
It was a strange effect that happened to everyone living off the land. The soil packed under finger nails, the smell of grease, and the constant funk of mild body odor. You know, “farmer smell”. It always humbled a person, and after years of the never ending demands of the farm a person is left with not a feeling of entitlement but of indebtedness to the Earth. She was a cruel master, some years a family could barely eat, while others the cup overflowed with massive bounty.
Haus returned to trunk of the car, retrieving the tire iron, and set out smashing the small panes of glass that separated them from the lock. It was not your typical double paned glass door you see at a traditional store, in fact the entire building reminded him of a converted home than a purposely built business. He reached his arm in slowly, avoiding the jagged edges of glass shards, twisting his arm awkwardly until he fumbled the lock free.
The door swung open with a creek, as the old rusting hinges groaned out, the sound tore at Haus eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. Haus stepped inside the dilapidated structure, only a few feet inside the smell hit him, his face soured in disgust. It wasn't what he was expecting, and he stepped back outside. Coughing a little as he exited the door threshold.
He raised his t shirt to cover his nose, and reentered the store. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for any signs of movement, he made a full circle of the small store front, opening every window along the way. As he approached the northern-most wall, he noticed the smell growing rapidly in intensity that is when he saw a small walkway and a half open door.
He approached the door cautiously, knowing that the source of the smell lay shortly behind that door, and with a little luck he might have the jump on it. Haus noticed the reflection of the cars headlights on the wall, and he looked up to the mirrored anti-theft dome above him. He stopped, reaching up and adjusting it to shine light down the small walkway.
Haus calmed his nerves a bit, firmed his grip on the tire iron, and used it to push open the door. Just as the door began to swing open, the light went dark, and Haus instinctively fell backward. His eyes trying to adjust to the darkness, then just as quickly as it disappeared, the light once again shown down the hallway.
Haus dry heaved as the smell entered his nostrils, his shirt no longer around his nose shielding it from the putrid vile that smothered the building in the scent of decay. He regained his footing, looking into the small room, seeing the source of the smell wasn't a body at all but thousands.
Thousands of small fingerling minnows floated on the surface of their containment tanks, their bodies white in color and bloated, gills flared out with sign above them. Guaranteed to catch a fish or die trying!
Haus lunged forward and slammed the door shut, holding his breath as he did, and turned to run out of the building. He exhaled quickly, taking in only partial breathes in between dry heaving, trying to keep his stomach down yet getting the oxygen he needed to get out of there. He turned the small corner and rushed for the door only to run head long into a dark shadowing something.
Amy let out a yelp as she crashed to the floor, knocked back by the force of Haus's mad dash for the door. Haus couldn't contain it any longer and vomited all over the wood floor of the bait shop. Amy jumped back up to her feet, realizing what had happened, and fully taking in the smell of the place quickly left Haus behind and ran out into the fresh outdoor air.
Haus walked outside, wiping the slime from his chin and nose; the burn of stomach acid and bile turning his nose into a flaming inferno of pain and sending tears running down his face. He had always despised throwing up, more than others, because it tended to be projectile vomit. Every time it happened he looked like he was expelling some demonic possession, and the following pain of acid in his sinuses made it so unbearable that he tried to suppress the event no matter the cost.
“What was that smell?” Amy asked.
“Dead fish...” Haus said, as he gagged once again this time successful in keeping in check.
“Nasty!” Amy said.
“I managed to open the windows. It should air out pretty soon.” Haus said.
“Any infected?” Amy asked.
“I think the place is clear. I didn't see anything until I ran into you. Didn't I tell you to stay in the car?” Haus said.
“I thought something hap
pened to you. I heard something and I went in to check it out.” Amy said.
Haus began to get angry. What is so damn hard for her to understand? Just do what I say would ya! “So what? What if something had happened to me? Better me than you OK!” Haus said angrily.
“Why is it better if it were you?” Amy asked.
“You don't get it. Your young and have a worthwhile life ahead of you. Nobody will miss me. Nobody needs me around. Not anymore.” Haus said, his voice trailing off as if he had said too much, or rather he just realized a truth he had refused to acknowledge until now.
“I need you.” Amy said quietly, her gentle voice sounded sincere as she bit her lip and walked towards Haus. She placed her hand on his shoulder, her head pointed downward, but her eyes were looking up. “I can't make it to Georgia alone. I don't even know where the hell we are going, but I do know I don't want to do it alone. From now on we work as a team. Got it?”
“Fair enough.” Haus said. The look on Amy's face let him know that this was not a negotiable demand. “Well lets see if there is anything salvageable inside.” Haus said as he walked back into the bait shop. He could feel Amy stare at him as he walked. He knew the words weren't true, he had said them out of anger, the truth was, as much as he hated to admit it. He needed her and he knew she knew that.
Amy found a working flashlight, which allowed them to turn the car off and conserve precious fuel. Haus had glanced down at the gas gauge when he shut the car off. Just a little over half a tank remained but lucky for them that meant the Corolla had a couple hundred miles left before needing to refuel. “Everything in the cooler is spoiled.” Haus said.
“Fine by me. I didn't want to eat worms anyway.” Amy said with a chuckle.
“Yeah. Not much food to be had in a bait shop.” Haus said.
“Score!” Amy's voice filled with enthusiasm as she held up a box of fish fry breading. “Some fried catfish would totally hit the spot.” Amy said.
“Starving to death and catfish is your choice?” Haus said.
“You betcha. My dad always had a fish fry on Saturday night. The neighbors even came over, it become quite the tradition back home. Everyone used to say that nobody could cook catfish like my pappa.” Amy stopped speaking, her lip quivered as she stared at the box. Memories of her father flooded her brain with happy thoughts, and the smell of frying fish.
Haus walked over to her, scooping her up in a tight embrace, holding her firmly against his chest. “You want catfish? You're gonna have catfish. Even if it takes all night.” He said gently, as she let out a small sob against his shoulder. “We got all the supplies we need here. It is a bait shop after all.”
Amy looked up at Haus; a weak smile crept across her face. “Thank you.” Amy said softly. Amy walked about the shop with a new found vigor, a sense of excitement radiated from her, as she gathered the equipment. Two fishing rods, a net, some hooks, weights, and a festering package of chicken liver. She handed over the items to Haus to place in the car. “What in the hell are you going to do with rotten chicken liver?” Haus asked.
“Catfish love anything that smells like shit.” Amy said as she continued to search for additional items.
“Well this should work great then!” Haus said as he held the package out away from his body, barely grasping it with two fingers, as if it contained a highly toxic substance. Amy continued to grab supplies: a canister of propane, an outdoor stove, a cast iron skillet, some vegetable oil, a spatula, paper plates, and plastic utensils.
***
It hadn't taken Amy long to find a body of water that should hold some catfish. Haus was starting to believe she was some kind of fish whisperer; there is no other logical explanation for her weird behavior. The creek that Haus had spotted apparently didn't pass her sniff test as she called it. He thought she just wanted to be the one to find the spot first. She had claimed that the clay making up the surrounding soil wasn't the kind catfish liked for making their beds in.
It was nearing midnight by the time they had parked the car and set up the fishing lines. Haus failed miserably at tying a hook but Amy helped him out. She could tell he had never been fishing, despite his objections and claims otherwise. Amy played along with it as to not damage his already deflated ego.
The two of them sat in the darkness of the night, fire flies zipping about, flashing every few seconds hoping to lure in a mate for the evening. The stars were exceptionally bright, and a slight breeze made the muggy air comfortable. “So know what?” Haus asked.
“We wait silly.” Amy replied.
“Right. Wait for them to eat the hook.” An hour passed, and still there had not been a single bite. Haus felt the rumble in his stomach and began to feel annoyed. Even the thought of Sauerkraut was looking mighty appealing about now. His stomach let out a low toned growl, which under normal circumstances would have gone unnoticed, but there were little sounds to be heard at night anymore.
Amy giggled as she heard it. “Screw it. I am too hungry to wait for them to decide it is time to bite.” Amy said as he stood up, dropping the fishing pole to the ground. She walked towards the beach, stopping just shy of the waters edge, and removed her shirt and shorts. She placed the articles of clothing on a nearby branch about three feet from the ground.
Haus stood still, not sure if he should mention that he could see her dressed in nothing but her underwear and bra in the partially lit night. The moon was a small sliver, offering just enough light to make outlines and faint shapes. Maybe she thinks I can't see her. Or maybe she wants me to see her.
“Umm Amy... What are you doing?” Haus asks.
“If they aren't going to come to us. I am going in after them!” Amy replied.
“Right! You are going to catch a fish with your bare hands?” Haus said.
“Damn skippy I am. More than one too.” Amy said as the water rested at her waist line, her hands on her hips as she looked back at Haus. The water amplified the moonlight, providing Haus with an even better view of her young body. “You coming in or what?” Amy yelled back.
Haus didn't say a word, shredded off his clothes and stampeded toward the water with the grace of three legged buffalo. The water was warm, inviting, and having not bathed in a while felt amazing. He dunked his head under water, swam forward a few strokes, and came up for air. When he broke the surface of the water, he expected Amy to be standing there but she was not. He glanced around, maybe he had swum out too far, but she was nowhere to be found.
Haus began to feel nervous, how stupid was it to trudge into unknown waters, what if the infected were down there in the muck? Their half rotting corpses stuck in the mud, reaching out for anything to eat. Something slimy brushed past his feet, he let out a startled yell, and ran for the shore; water thrashing away from him violently, the droplets raining back down onto the otherwise calm surface of the water.
Haus stopped when he heard laughter from behind him, his heart still racing, as he turned around to see Amy a few feet behind him. In her arms she held a writhing slimy creature, its tail flapping wildly, flipping beads of water high into the air. Amy threw the catfish onto the shore; it bounced around in the grass, twitching back and forth as it struggled to reach the water. It was not a huge fish, around seven pounds, but it was the perfect size for making a meal for two.
Amy waded in from the water; her muddy wet body sparkled among the fire flies and moonlight. As she walked slowly towards Haus, he stood motionless, the scene unfolding before him seemed to slow down time. She walked forward, pulling her hair behind head, as if a goddess of the mud was emerging from her lair. Haus had seen this very thing in movies, but this was somehow very different.
Amy was covered in mud, pond water, and seaweed. Yet despite the muck, grime, and slime it was driving Haus absolutely insane. He watched her pick up the slimy fish, insert a stick between the gills and press the stick firmly into the mud. Making sure that the fish was in deep enough water to breathe and keep it fresh. “One for me! Now it's your turn.�
� Amy said.
“Huh?” Haus said.
“We are a team now remember? I got one, now it's your turn. I can't be the only one contributing here. Or are you scared of a wittle fishy?” Amy said. The words stung into Haus's ego. Did she honestly have to say it like THAT?; like I am some kind of pansy ass. Sure. I ran like hell to the beach, but any sane person would have done the same thing. Well, given the circumstances anyway. Does this woman not know fear?
A single word slammed into Haus's brain, like a runaway eighteen wheeler that had lost its breaks down a mountain pass. Woman. He had entrained himself with ideas of a sexual nature, partially acted on a few, but only in his own brain. Sure she was of legal age, but given the age difference he had always told himself that she was just a child.
Somehow his subconscious had crossed a threshold in the last few days, yes she was young, but she was very much a woman. It doesn't matter anyway. She couldn't possibly even think that way about me. I should be chasing middle-aged cougars around. What business do I have with a nineteen-year-old Philly? Philly? Do I even know what that is? Just what in the hell in going on around here?
“I will teach you, come on in, the water is warm.” Amy said as she motioned for him to come closer. Haus stood there in his boxers, still partially wet from his previous venture into the murky depths of lake whatever in the hell it was called. His mind flooded with a lethal cocktail of emotions and ideas.
Amy stood in the water, looking back at him, wondering what was causing his delay. Had he seen something moving, an unforeseen danger that she somehow did not see. “Are you alright Haus?” Amy asked.
“I don't think I can...” Haus's voice trailing off, as he fended off day dreams and illicit thoughts; his mind a wash of hormones, partially blocking parts of his brain, and crippling him mentally.
“Get your ass down here Haus!” Amy commanded, and Haus complied marching blindly toward the water, unable to form any concrete thoughts, his mind floating on a cloud nine high of endorphins. Fixated on her body, like a Grecian sailor captured in the sirens wail, the enchanting song of her voice leading him forward.