The last girl

“The world is fated…”

She looked out over the pond and imagined herself being able to be a single drop of water.

Nancy was also wondering what she was doing in the middle of Oregon with her boyfriend Oz -- short for Oscar; which is obviously ridiculous as a nickname because just using your name is shortsighted and… her thoughts were interrupted by the thrashing sounds of Oz struggling with the cords he had crudely wrapped around the wood he had gathered.

“Are you going to help me with this or what?” Oz yelled in a way that could not contain his helpless angst. He was thinking about work, simultaneously knowing his hopes for the “digital detox” weekend that he had planned were absolutely going nowhere near what he had taken the time to plan.

Nancy for a moment thought about saying something crueler than just whispering to herself, ‘help yourself.’ She had dealt with so much toxic absurdity that her whole being screamed at her to be more commanding and less tolerant of illogical and poorly defined actions.

“Nance, are you listening to me?”

“Yes. For the last time, what?”

Oscar, dumbfounded, stopped for a moment to consider if he was going to further aggravate the situation before asking, “how much should I bring in for the fireplace?”

“Weren’t you like a boy scout, or something?” She knew she was being harder on Oz than was warranted but at the same time she knew that she did not want to be stuck in the wilderness when there were so many other things they could have been doing. She knew he was trying hard but could not stop herself from being cruel.

“I’m doing the best I can, Nance,” He whined.

“Why did you drag me out here, Oz?”

“Well I thought it would be good for us and you said you wanted to get away from everything back at home for a few days. Did I make you mad?”

“I’m not mad, I just feel like you don’t listen to me,” She said and hoped that her voice was more monotone than acidic. “Look, Oz, I don’t want to personalize this but you didn’t even ask me if I wanted to spend the holiday weekend with my family or anything. What about your family, do they even know where we are?”

“I told you I wanted to just get out of dodge because I just hate the holidays.”

“Hate what?” she asked.

“Everything. The whole ceremony centered around food and the absolutely absurd thought of having to sit and grin at all the bullshit my family is always on about, and…”

“I like your family, Oz!”

“That’s bullshit, Nance. I swear you don’t like anything at all bust your talking on all the shit you hate and all the stuff you’re always mad about?”

“Is that what you think about me?”

“Do you even like me at all, Nancy?” He rips his head to the side and pulls his face into a snarl to hide the tears that run down his face like tiny frail saplings of shame. He hides his face and strains his shoulder hoisting the wood bundle onto his neck.

“I love you, Oscar.” Her lips envelope her desire to finish her statement with, ‘you idiot.’

Perhaps sensing that she muted herself, Oz responds with an unconvinced, “mhmm.”

Hoping that she had not been as demeaning as she now felt, Nancy planted herself in the thin snow. “Oz. Stop please.”

Oz stopped. He spun with the ungainly weight over his nape, ferile fear in his eyes as he whispered, “Did we close the door to the cabin?”

“Yes. why?”

“Look.”

“Open. So what? I told you that lock was jammed and look at all this wind; it probably just blew open.” She started walking ahead before half-turning and asking, “Do you wanna cook on the fire or use that old stove?” Turning completely around with a sudden radiance she said, “I really do love you, you idiot,” and giggled with a blush.

Before Nancy could ask if Oz needed help with the fire, a low rumble filled the air shaking the ground beneath them.

“Nancy?”

“I felt it.”

“Let’s get the phones out of the lockbox in the car.”

“Oz, wait.”

Rattling sounds had begun to fill the air, starting low at first and then growing into a chainsaw wail.

Darkness.

May love kiss you in the wind

Hug you in the sunlight

Hold you in the clouds

And whisper loud in silence.

Nance and Oz begin to regain consciousness and are both met with a dim basement full of bric-a-brac, very cheap landscape paintings and unusable sports equipment.

“Where are we?”

“I think we’re in the basement of the cabin.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”