She Thinks

Aza jumps from her perch on a tree and nearly breaks her ankle. She panics for a moment, a reasonable act, before realizing she hadn’t. Luck at its finest, Aza thinks, before unthinking it. Luck is not real Aza, she reprimands herself, it’s only for fools who can’t face the truth. But it is real. At least for her. Luck runs in the Caddel family. Not that she would know it.

Fostered by Rukin and Mayeko Elrod, she has next to no knowledge of her real parents. But like most movie orphans, Aza has a last gift from her original caretakers. Not that she has ever seen an orphan movie. A silver heart-shaped locket that has become rusted from neglect. You should never get to attached to objects, Aza figures, makes them harder to give away.

One would think she would do the same with the Elrods, but unfortunately, she did grow attached. So attached, in fact, that she cried for a week straight when the gigantic swirling mass that one calls a tornado took her foster-parents and the rest of the United States of America to heaven while she was in Australia with a few acquaintances.

How did everybody die of one tornado? Aza asked the very few survivors that she has met along the way. It was freakish. As giant as Texas, they had answered. Why just the U.S? Aza also inquired. Nobody knows. Maybe it was some scheme from another country, they laughed between sniffles as they went on their merry way.

Now she is wandering on her own in the post-apocalyptic country, her search party group abandoning her when she decided not to leave the nearly destroyed gas station bathroom until she could control her racking sobs. When she finally decided to get out, out of starvation, she found her group gone. But at least they had had the courtesy to leave her bag. But they had still gone.

Who needs them? Aza had thought over and over again, trudging through forests and armed with a large stick and a backpack full of moderately stale (but still intact) gas station chips. That statement sounded lonelier and lonelier until eventually she moved on to a new one. More people slow you down. And she stuck to that. No communication at all. She didn’t even try to radio anybody.

Aza was left with the thoughts in her head and no human-contact for the past 4 months, so you can bet she was shocked out of her battered and bruised skin when she realized her ankle was not broken and turned around to see a male of her age, with an alright height, deep brown hair, and weird golden eyes, stomping through the wet leaves of the forest.

He’s attractive, Aza thought. She banished that thought as quickly as it came. Attractiveness is a state of mind, Aza always says, it’s what humans tell themselves to make babies.

“When a mommy and daddy love each other very much...” Mayeko’s explanation of how babies are made races into her head, an unwelcome thought. She pushes the memory away before tears well up. Mayeko was a kind, bubbly woman. Rukin was a quiet, nurturing man. Both were exceptionally great parents, and they didn’t spoil her rotten, nor did they make her do all the work. But now Aza is on her own and left with only memories of them.

I never even got to say goodbye, she thinks constantly. And because of the unwelcome thought, Aza thinks this again. But the origin of the unwelcome thought came from the boy. Since the disaster, Aza has always said that hope is for suckers, but on this occasion, she is the one sucking up to it. I really hope this guy doesn’t spot me, she thinks.

But he does. “Hey!” He says. They even lock eyes. A sappy person might call it love at first sight. But Aza is not sappy. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t run into his arms, she doesn’t profess her love, she does not even think he is attractive. Instead, she does what any sensible person in a situation where they’re alone in the woods and a male shouts hey at them would do. She runs.

Aza sprints through the bush, jumping over anything and everything she sees, from fear of tripping over air like her least favorite characters in horror movies. When the boy gives chase, his long legs eating up the space between them, Aza moves as fast as her sixteen-year-old legs will take her. And that’s fast.

So fast, in fact, that Aza doesn’t see the branch until she passes right under it and it crushes her, rendering her immobile.

And the only person who can free her is the boy.

What a terrible situation to be in, Aza thinks. And what a terrible situation it is. Now Aza has to brave the horrors of human contact. He has no murder weapon, Aza thinks, and he does not look like a lunatic, but you never know. He could be a crackpot fool with hope of the world getting better, she continues in her head, and I might have to endure his “inspiring” speech about working together to save humanity.

But then she has the sudden remembrance that she has never fully conversed with a boy. Much less boy contact. She has always attended an all-girls school in a small town in Oregon.

Perfect main character material, Aza has always thought, but I’m not some dummy whose gonna use the power of friendship to inexplicably turn pretty, get a boyfriend, and live happily ever after.

One thought always leads to another with Aza, and soon she comes back to reality, where she is unfortunately stuck under a giant branch in a post-apocalyptic world where the only human she has seen in 4 months (who is also a boy!) can free her. And that is exactly what he does.

The boy grabs the end of the branch and lifts it high enough for her to get free. As soon as it’s high enough, Aza scrambles from under limb. She dusts her old and tattered black leggings off and stretches her arms, eager to see if she has managed to get this far and then break her spine. It miraculously is in good condition. Still gonna feel sore later though, Aza groans in her head before an unfamiliar voice speaks, causing her to snap her head around. She hasn’t broken her spine, but she might break her neck.

“I’m Sen.” Unfamiliar voice who now identifies as Sen says. Out loud. And not in Aza’s head. She hasn’t heard any noise except the animals for the past few months. And maybe her own grunts, too.

Instead of introducing herself like she should’ve done, Aza gets to the point. “Why are you here?” She is just as surprised at seeing another human being as she is at her mouth still working.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Sen retorts.

She glares.

Sen clears his throat. “Calsen Aldine. I’m just getting by, like I assume you are. I was heading this way and saw you. I haven’t seen another human being in like, four months, so I understand why you bolted. But maybe we could work together? I mean, as long as you don’t preach about saving America’s population when it’s long gone by now.” He chuckles nervously.

If one didn’t know better, they would’ve thought it was Aza Caddel-Elrod gender bended.

Maybe this male-person is tolerable, Aza thinks, but what do I say now?

Anybody who knows Aza knows that she doesn’t worry about trivial things like this. But this was a dire situation. She either panics and runs again or gets the guts to say yes to his company. And she may never admit it, but Aza would really like some company. Another somebody to make her feel less isolated in the world.

Aza takes a breath and closes her eyes. I would do better not to stare into those weird golden eyes of his, she thinks.

“I’m Aza Caddel-Elrod, and like you assumed, I am getting by as well, I was also heading this way and saw you, and I also haven’t seen a human being in four months. I have no hopes for the future of North America, so you need not worry. Feel free to join me on my quest to save myself from doom until I die of old age.” Robotic, but not too shabby for a girl who's never spoken to a boy.

“Are you a robot?” His eyebrows furrow.

If there is one thing Aza Caddel-Elrod does not tolerate, it’s stupidity.

“Why would you even think that? I literally ran. And how in God's name would a robot survive a mega tornado? Maybe you’re not as tolerable as I thought.”

Sen laughs outright. “I was joking. You really haven’t interacted with another person in months have you. Maybe you haven’t interacted with another person at all.”

Aza huffs before taking off.

“Hey wait! Where are you going?” He calls after her.

She turns to walk backwards. “You coming or not?”

And he comes.

Aza and Sen walk through the forest together until dusk comes. They finally stop, and Sen pulls a yellow backpack off his shoulder that Aza didn’t notice before and takes out a dark blue foldable tent. Aza takes out an identical dark red tent and Sen smiles.

Aza does not.

“Seems like you haven’t smiled in four months either.” Sen mutters

“I’ve smiled plenty!” Aza shoots back.

“Alright. Then do it now!”

Aza has not smiled in 4 months. She wasn’t much of a smiler before that either. It’s better to express your happiness with words, Aza has always thought, it makes things clearer. She has never been kind enough to smile at a random stranger, much less at a random stranger holding a door for her. It won’t make life any easier, Aza grunted when her friends confronted her on this.

Despite having near inexperience, Aza did know how to throw a dazzling smile. But having no interaction for the past 16 weeks, she has lost this knowledge. Have I even looked in a mirror? Aza startles, I probably look like a rat on the verge of death! That is a bit of an overreaction, seeing as she has raided many o’ store, stocking up on new clothes. She has also washed off in every river she’s seen, because she may close herself off and deny it, but Aza does care about what people think. She always has and she always will. Even living in a ruined world. Best to look presentable, Aza excuses her actions when she finds a river, just in case I die today. But she knows it’s not true.

Aza has lost this knowledge, but she still knows how to smirk. She cracks a grin whenever she finds something of value in an abandoned store.

So, she smirks.

“That’s not a smile.”

Way to take the wind out of her sails Sen.

Aza makes a sour face and finishes putting up her tent, crawling in and zipping the makeshift door. It is too a smile, she snaps from inside her head, it’s a type of smile, so it still counts. That it does.

“Go to sleep.” She growls from inside.

“I’m hungry.”

“THEN EAT GOSH!”

“Woah, calm down tiger.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

“Alrighty then.”

“Hmf.”

“I think you and I are going to have fun together, Aza.”

“We just met, and I don’t like you.”

“Ok.”

That certainly changes. Aza does grow to like him. More than she thinks she should. They also have fun, more than she thinks they should. They travel all around the U.S. together. Or what used to be the U.S. Aza even gets attached. He’s attractive, a reoccurring thought in her head. Luck truly does run in the Caddel family.

Not that she would know it.