in that last moment. Maybe in that playback of memory, everything compresses and is hit with a new light. You see everything you did and experienced and lived in a new context, and a peace and meaning washes over you as you go. That’s what I was expecting. No, instead, I got my boyfriend who hid from the snake that killed me saying something to me in my last moment that made my whole life feel like a waste. He confirmed all my feelings--confirmed that my life had been total shit. Like, what was I doing with a guy like him?”
She looks up at me now, and her eyes are begging me to say something. No, they’re begging me to do something.
19
Catherine
He leans forward. He’s going to kiss me.
In that moment, something does flash before my eyes. It’s not my whole life, just my whole love life.
Every single man I’ve ever been with. Every first kiss. Every breakup. During every breakup I always thought about--and regretted--how the relationship started. I always regretted that first kiss. I always wished I could just go back in time and stop that kiss.
I remember the first kiss with Thad.
I’d just heard back from a job I’d interviewed for. One that actually used my degree. They didn’t want me.
I’d gone out with my friends to some bar. There was a band playing. I didn’t even like their music. Thad was the singer slash guitarist. I didn’t like their music, but he had a nice voice, and he kept looking at me when he sang. The stage lights shone on him, and it made all his features look ephemeral and dreamlike. When he smiled at me, I almost melted.
I talked to him after the show. He bought me a beer. I chose to not notice that he was high. He was a rock star, I told myself. I’d just gotten out of another relationship that was very bad, and I knew that kissing a guy always sucked me in. I never just kissed a guy and let it go. There was something about the guys I was into, or something about me, where a kiss meant we were going to be “together” and also that it would end horribly. A cursed kiss.
Krakon leans forward. I have maybe one second to stop him. My body doesn’t want me to stop him, but he’s a pirate. He’s going to sell me no matter what. How bad will it hurt to have him sell me while I’m still into him, before I even get to the point that I want to break up with him?
I slink away. Pulling back.
“No,” I say, voice awkward and stilted. “Sorry, but no.”
He looks up at me like he’s been broken from a stupor.
“No,” he says, more to himself than me. “I’ll get more firewood.”
I try to wipe my tears off, but the gloves on the thermal suit are designed to not absorb moisture, and the tears just kind of slick off them rather than absorb away from my face. I have to almost bat them away, but it doesn’t feel right, so I just give up and cry more.
Maybe I should have let him kiss me? Maybe it was right this time? Maybe a rock star or a bitcoin guy or an “inventor” were all wrong for me because all this time I’d been waiting for an alien space pirate.
I laugh, but it’s through my nose, and my nose is full of snot.
Ew.
When I wake up, he’s holding a bow. He’s not holding it like a weapon, but like a gift.
“This one is yours. The string is weaker.” he says. “You need to learn to use it.”
I nod.
He’s etched a bull’s eye on one of the trees. We start out only twenty or so feet away.
“Try to pull it,” he says. “This string is a lot weaker. It won’t fire with as much force as mine, but it will still be stronger than a half-cocked bow.”
I pull the arrow back. My bicep bulges, and it’s difficult, but I get it all the way back. Once it’s back, the hardest part is over, and I can focus on aiming.
He stands behind me, his body pressing against my back. He adjusts my grip.
“Loosen up,” he says. “You’re too tight.”
I laugh nervously. It makes me think about his cock, which I admit I’ve thought about a few times by now. Though this is the first time I really think about the mechanics of it being inside