Imitation Crabmeats

Tonight the road breathes, shivers, shuffles under us.
I woke up in the backseat, legs numb from being folded up, and had a moment of panic and disorientation. No idea where I was or where we were driving. Or who the strangers in the front seats were. Then I gradually regained my senses and realized that being lost was the whole point of this trip.
The stars are out. There’s a constant whoosh of air from where the window above me wasn’t rolled up all the way.
At this point we’re probably still in California, if you can even call it that anymore. I could get up and ask, but there’s not much of a point. And it’s easier to pretend to still be asleep, slowly flexing my leg muscles to get the feeling back.
Haven’t been on a road trip like this since I was still small enough to fully stretch out in the backseat with room to spare.
My mother would warn me off with horror stories about how one day we’d get in a wreck and I’d get launched out the windshield, minus a head. And I’d wish for a car accident to prove her wrong.
Now that I’m years away from her, and too tall to lay in the back seat without my legs scrunched up against the door, I don’t think about being catapulted and decapitated. I think instead about my foot accidentally touching the door handle, opening it, and getting sucked out into the night like this was an airplane at cruising altitude.

The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a quaint two story home. The sound of gravel under the wheels.
Meryl put the car in park and sat watching the house, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. "This'll have to do."
I held still in the back for a ten count, then decided I was going to die if I didn’t move around. I sat up and peeked out at the house. The lights were off. Not a single other building as far as I could see in either direction. “Are we stopping here?”
Her seat creaked as she turned to look at me. “Oh, are you up? If I’d known you were awake, you could have kept me company.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. You’re a guest. You can do what you want.” Her smile drifted away and she gave Sam in the passenger seat a shove. “Sam, wake the fuck up.”
Sam grumbled and curled up against the passenger side door.
I stretched my back and felt it pop. "What if someone's home?"
"If they are, they’ll have to let us crash here. I’m fading fast. And if I don’t go the bathroom right now, I’m going to explode."
This house was likely our only chance for lodging. Last time we passed a proper bed was a motel many miles back that was too sketchy, even by our standards.

When I finally unfolded my legs and stretched, it felt like being born. Like a match lighting.
While Meryl worked on getting Sam to leave the car, I took a long look at the house. Like every other building we’d seen since starting this road trip, it was drastically out of place, this one nestled in an empty field. Driveway that didn’t connect to the road. Two story cottage from a very nice neighborhood, probably. Paint so bright it glowed in the darkness. Birdhouse-shaped mailbox out front.
I pulled open the mailbox. Still a few letters inside, mostly junk. And according to the address, this house had been several hundred miles from here last week, before the incident.
"This house is from Oregon."
Meryl didn’t hear me as she opened the back of the Rav to get her bags. “Hurry up, Sam. It’s freezing out here.”
Sam dripped out of the passenger side door and rubbed her eyes. “What is this? We commandeering this place?”
"Unless somebody chases us off, yes. Let's see if anyone is home." Meryl walked up to the front door and jammed on the doorbell rapid fire. "Keep an eye on the windows. See if anybody peeks out."
Sam and I stood back by the car for a full minute but nothing happened.
Sam sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "Even if no one’s home, how do we get in?"
“We’ll figure it out. You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” Meryl tried the knob. Locked. "Go check the windows. See if any are open. We'll smash one with a rock if we get desperate. Oh, speaking of." She kicked every conspicuous rock around the front stoop looking for a hidden key, but they were all real, normal rocks.

We split up and circled the house. Hopefully, there would be an easy way in. Meryl made me nervous with her constant offers of criminal behavior.
I hopped over the railing surrounding the patio and checked the sliding glass door. Locked, of course.
This looked like the same sort of sliding glass door my home had when I was growing up. And I'd had to break in at least twice over the years after locking myself out. If this one was the same, I could shoulder check it off the track.
Still, I didn't like the idea of breaking in. There could still be someone in there. I know if I’d been at home when all this happened, I wouldn’t be answering the doorbell either. Cupped my hands around my eyes and looked in, peering past the partially opened vertical blinds. Scanning the deep darkness for some trace of movement.
While I was staring in, I felt a sudden electrical twinge on my neck. Like something was behind me out in the dark.
I turned and squinted into the night. Wide expanse of flattened grass on all sides of the house and much further out an impenetrable sea of trees.
Was there something out there? We hadn't passed any cars in ages. Not many people were crazy enough to try and travel through the empty spaces. We should be alone.

A chilly wind blew through my bones, like someone was watching. No, more than that. The emptiness was too big. I was exposed out here. It felt like a giant, terrible hand was going to reach down out of the sky and pull me from the earth.

The sliding glass door slid open and my heart detonated. I couldn’t get the air in fast enough to scream before I turned and saw Sam inside.
“Jesus christ.”
“I jimmied open a window. Get in here, hitchhiker.”
Through an open door I could see the silhouette of Meryl struggling to get through the same window Sam had. “Nobody help me. I’ve got this.”

As Sam flipped on the lights, she pounded on the wall, listening for any response from upstairs. “Is anyone on the premises?” Silence. “I think we’re good. It’s freezing in here. They would have had the heat running if they were home.”
Meryl fell in, almost taking the curtain down with her. There was a deep rip, but it held. Then she closed and secured the window behind her. “In that case, let’s lock ourselves in. This is our castle now.”
I peeked out at the Rav. “Should we hide the car?”
“Nah. If anybody happens by, I want them to know that this place is spoken for. Now let's take a look around. See what's what. Or, in a minute." She beelined for the bathroom.

We turned on every set of light switches we could find. The brightness scared away most of the cold feeling of being watched. But I was still worried that a crazed owner was playing the long game and getting ready to pop out of a hamper or a cupboard and stab us each in turn with a rusty hook.
Instead of voicing these concerns, I followed Meryl around the house as she checked each room.

"Ooh." Meryl brightened when she found the closet, through two red slatted doors in the master bedroom. She and Sam had been desperate to rustle up some kind of wardrobe. They were still wearing the cheap jackets they’d grabbed from a thrift store near the coast.
Her enthusiasm dulled when she actually saw the clothes. She met my eyes and shook her head solemnly as she held up a taffeta dress in a sickening shade of green that made my eyes hurt.
“Why don’t these people have any normal clothes?”

While she looked for anything salvageable, I drifted through the bedroom, checking for clues. If I treated it like a museum, or a crime scene, it would feel a little less weird to be rifling through a stranger's belongings. Less embarrassing at least.
Clock on the nightstand, alarm set to 5:45 am. Early risers. A worn romance novel with the cover ripped off. Two different kinds of toothpaste in the connected bathroom. A strange buzzing coming from the ceiling. No pictures, which was odd.
I plopped down on the bed. "Who do you think lives here?"
"I don't know. Some old jerks." Her eyes widened and she strained to reach a higher shelf. "What have we here?" She procured a white hat and set it on her head. "Check it out."
It was some sort of naval cap. "Oh?"
"They probably own a yacht. I knew there was a reason to hate these people. I could smell it when we first walked in here." She slapped the hat against the wall to knock the dust off it.
"Hmm. This doesn't really seem like a yacht-owner sized house."
"Probably a summer home. Pricks." Meryl tipped the hat at me. "Ahoy there."
Her gaze lingered on me and I suddenly didn’t know what to do with my arms or legs or face. "What is it?"
"Nothing. Just looking."
She reached out and tugged at a loose lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. My body temperature doubled.
“Let’s go downstairs.”
“Okay.”

Down in the kitchen Sam was rooting around in the fridge, not pleased by the slim pickings. "I swear to god, next time we happen across a grocery store that hasn’t been looted we need to stock up on canned goods or something. This is ridiculous. All they have to eat here are eggs."
I took a seat at the round dining table. "I like eggs."
"Do you like forty eggs? Because that's what we have." Sam procured two cartons and kicked the fridge door closed. Then she saw Meryl. "What's with the hat?"
"I just picked up something befitting of my station. As captain. I'm captain of this ship."
Sam looked at me and I shrugged back.
Sam sighed. "Okay. Aye aye. Whatever."
"Is that any way to address your captain?"
Sam groaned, rolled her eyes, and went to the stove.
Whoever lived here probably didn’t have much need of real food, judging by the laminated binder of restaurant fliers on the counter.

Rummaging in the fridge, Sam found a single carrot in the crisper drawer and considered it until Meryl cut in.
“Don’t you fucking dare make carrot omelets.”
“I’m the one cooking. I’ll put whatever I want in and you’ll like it.” But she still dropped it back in the crisper drawer.

Sam didn’t seem pleased as she set the plates in front of us. She’d found some serviceable bread in the cupboard to give this the impression of a real meal.
“Thank you.” I tried to give my most grateful smile as Sam passed me mine, but she just answered with a minimal grunt. That’s been most of our exchanges since we started out on this trip.
The omelets had a strange crunch to them. Served with a handful of random condiment packets we’d found stuffed in a drawer.
It wasn’t great, but it was far better than convenience store chips and jerky again.
Meryl picked out one of the dried particles. "What is this? Did you put bacon bits in here?"
"I had to mix something in. You can't have plain omelets."
"Yes you can. It’s called scrambled eggs, you psychopath."
She still finished it though. And once she’d cleared her plate she pushed it away. “I’m going to go take a shower.” As she stood, she gave my knee a soft squeeze under the table and left me with a lingering look.
Sam was leaning against the sink while finishing off her plate, and waited until Meryl had gone upstairs to take her last bite. She looked at me and seemed about to attempt a conversation, then gave up. “I’m gonna go see if they’ve got anything pawnable lying around.” She dumped her plate in the sink and left.
As she stepped out I caught a brief red glint outside, only there for a second.
I got up and checked the kitchen window, parted the curtains and stared out at the darkness, peering through my own reflection. Too many stars. Still nothing moving out there, but as soon as I stood in front of the glass I got the same electric feeling of something watching. I tried to ignore it and pulled the curtain closed.
I had enough on my mind without this place also being haunted.

From where I was standing, I could feel the last traces of heat from the stove top. The gas was still working. So were the lights. I turned the faucet and cold water spilled out, exactly as it normally would. Where is this water from?
This house had uprooted and moved five hundred miles from where it had been built. Why were all the utilities still connected?
I’d brought this up before, but Meryl brushed it off, saying I shouldn’t complain about good fortune. And Sam doesn’t seem open to a deep discussion of anything. At least not with me.
I’d feel better if I weren’t the only one worried.
I’d feel better if this vacation would end.

On the day of the incident I was already on a trip, staying in a hotel room that had taken a hefty bite out of my bank account. It was the first time I’d ever taken this much time off of work, all for an impulsive flight across the country. Visiting a friend I’d met online I was hoping would become more. Playing at being a tourist.

When it happened I was collapsed in the hotel bed, not tired enough to go to sleep but too tired to get up and change into sleeping clothes. Listening to the air conditioner chug. Trying to forget for a moment the constant mental math of when I would have to catch the bus to catch the plane back home in time to catch the bus to work on Monday.
Something happened. I wasn’t sure what at first. Like the white noise in the room changed. Eventually the quiver in my spine bothered me enough that I had to get up.
I peeked out the window and the scenery had shifted. All the buildings were different and most of my view was taken up by an expanse of ocean that wasn’t there a few minutes before. There’s not supposed to be an ocean in the Midwest. Even the light in the sky was different. I wouldn’t figure this out until much later, but me and this entire hotel had slid two timezones to the west. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what I was seeing so instead I focused on the three-car accident far below. Forehead on the glass.

Then I looked back at the ocean which could not possibly be there and the confusion was so heavy and getting heavier like a wet sack wrapped around my head.
“Am I in the wrong room?”
The more I tried to sort out my thoughts, the more confused I got. So I went and laid back down in bed.

But I couldn’t hold still for long because I had the heavy itch of a puzzle that should be easy to solve. Chewing on my lip and kicking the headboard.
Soon I was back up and at the window, pounding on the glass yelling ‘what the fuck’ over and over.

I wasn’t the only one having a sudden confused crisis. In an instant every single building in the country had been rearranged and I was now sitting in a seaside urban mess, a patchwork of other buildings from other cities. Every single one an orphan.

Now there were scores of people like me who hadn’t been at home during the incident and were now effectively homeless unless they could figure out where their homes had ended up.
I’d never even introduced myself to anyone else who lived in my building, and I’d never bothered to put my landlord’s number into my phone. So my apartment may as well be on Mars for how lost it was to me.
I was stranded.
Even the friend I was visiting was no savior as she was suddenly a couple hundred miles away. Even if she hadn’t been, I went out of my way to message her and tell her I was fine. A lie, but I didn’t want to burden her. She had her own troubles, like trying to track down and rescue her mother.

I spent my days worrying and quietly panicking, doing the same thing most people did: trying desperately to find someone to tell me what happened.
But there was no explanation for the sudden supernatural shuffle, at least none that seemed credible. Still isn’t. And even if there were a perfect explanation, it wouldn’t have changed my situation.
Every plane was grounded until they could figure out where the airports were. So my return trip was canceled.

I should have holed up in my room and refused to let them remove me, but that wouldn't have lasted long. That room was starting to suffocate me. And I couldn’t afford to extend my stay. Massive societal collapse or not, they still had my credit card on file. You can’t trust a business, ever.

I had to get out, but wandering the newly arranged streets was a terrifying prospect because if I got lost, there was no map on earth that would be able to help me.
There was a coffee shop across the street from where the hotel now was. Whoever had been working there had abandoned it and left the lights on, doors unlocked. After most of the premade food was ransacked it became a quiet enough place to sit and be miserable. Try to stifle the feelings of inadequacy and helplessness.
That was where Meryl found me.

When I heard the bell above the door jingle, I pulled all my sorrows back into myself to look presentable and unassuming.
Meryl marched in like she was looking for a fight. Dressed in an ill fitting hoodie that kept sliding off her shoulder. Strong eyebrows.
As she passed, our gazes met and I looked away immediately. Her eyes were too intense to stare into for more than an instant.

She walked up to the counter and surveyed it, clearly abandoned.
“You don’t work here, do you?”
“No.”
“Good.” She hopped up on the counter and swung her legs over, knocking over the empty tip jar on her way.
I sat and listened as she rifled through, digging into the food case. "Dang it. I wanted a sandwich." She returned with a mostly stale blueberry muffin and a bottle of drinking water and took a seat at the table nearest mine.
She held her hair back with one hand as she ate with the other. “So what’s your deal? You live around here?”
“No. I was staying over there.” I pointed at the hotel across the street.
"So what are you doing here?"
"Just… hanging out."
She noticed the luggage tucked under my table. "You traveling?"
"Well, I was. I mean, before the… everything happened."
“Hmm.” She picked at her muffin, pulling apart the bottom first and popping it into her mouth one chunk at a time.
This was the first person I’d had any interaction with, and watching her eat gave me a miserable pang of loneliness that rattled me.
I cleared my throat. “Do you live around here? Now, I mean.”
“No. I was out on a walk.” She licked a speck of muffin from her thumb. “Right now I’m trying to get back home.”
“Oh?”
"Yeah, I got extremely lucky and met up with an old ‘friend’ of mine.” She dropped her muffin to throw up a quick set of air quotes. “She’s got family not far from my place. We're going to try driving back. Out on the east coast. Or thereabouts.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah. Nicer if we actually make it.” She balled up the wrapper and ate the last chunk of muffin. “This time next week we’ll probably be stranded in wherever the fuck.”
I don't know what did it, but at the mention of her leaving, the cold ball of stress I'd been harboring exploded and I burst into sobs. Hot tears exploded out of me and I couldn’t even hold them back. It was like middle school all over again.
“Oh my god.” Meryl eyed the door. I assume she was considering escaping and leaving me here to sob myself to death. I would not have blamed her if she had.
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” Still sobbing so hard I’m blinded by my own tears.
She took a seat next to me and handed over a pile of napkins. “You’re stuck out here, aren’t you?”
I wiped my face and sniffled. “Yeah.”
“A lot of that going around.” She was quiet for a long time while I pulled myself back together. Reigning in the sobs. "Do you want to get something to eat?"
"What?"
“There’s an ice cream shop nearby that is still running. Would that make you feel better?”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course it will. It’s ice cream.”

The man in the ice cream cart smashed together a bowl of vanilla ice cream with banana and golden Oreos. I almost missed the flourish as he worked it and mixed it because I didn’t realize it was meant to be a spectacle.
The ice cream shop was tucked into a circle of activity that I hadn’t realized was here. Shops were open. Children being pushed in strollers. People on this block were carrying on like this was life as normal and there was something comforting about that.
I was embarrassed by the crying outburst, but intensely grateful that she was spending time here with me. I was in desperate need of some pity. As I sniffled and ate, she plied me with questions.
“You got anybody waiting for you at home?”
“No. It’s just me.”
“I find that hard to believe.” She took a bite. “What about family?”
“Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?”
“I stopped talking to them. Quite some time ago.”
“Hmm. Family is overrated anyhow.”
I was crunching on a chunk of Oreo when it occurred to me that all the questions she was asking me were a sort of interview.
“Do you smoke?”
“No.”
“Thank god.”
She pointed at my cup with her spoon. “Can I?”
“Sure.”
Warmth pulsed through my stomach as we exchanged bites. My sudden crying fit felt a million miles away. Although my eyes still felt like two throbbing dog bites.

“Do you want to come with us?” I was watching her mouth as she cleaned off her spoon so the words didn’t quite register at first.
“Sorry?”
“We can drop you off partway if you want. If you’re going east, I mean.”
“I am, actually.” I blurted it out without considering it for a second. This was a lie. My home could have been a block away for all I knew.
But it's not like I had much of a choice. It's either tag along on this road trip or stay at the hotel waiting for them to kick me out for not being able to pay for my room.
As for when we reached our destination, I’d have to figure it out when we got there. At worst I’d be in exactly the same situation I was here, except next to a different ocean.
“Okay.” She nodded and did some math in her head. “This can work. That your only bag?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You ready to get out of here?”

In a stable situation, I would have been more wary of signing on with a random stranger for a vague trip across the wastes, no matter how attractive she was. But these were odd times.

I followed her back to their powder blue SUV, parked outside a shuttered rec center. That was where I met Sam, sitting on the hood waiting for us.
She looked at me and my luggage, then turned to Meryl. “Who is this supposed to be?”
“This is Katie. She’s our third. Now get in the car, Sam.”
“We’re not taking a third person with us.”
“Okay, then she can take your spot and you can stay here.”
“You wouldn’t last a day without me.”
“Then its decided. You’re coming too. Welcome to the team, Sam.”
“Oh my god, you fucking-” She threw the keys at Meryl and climbed into the backseat to smolder.
I didn’t realize how hard I was wringing my hands until Meryl touched my arm.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll get over it.”

That same day, the three of us embarked, leaving the crowded coast behind and heading out into the much more desolate wilderness of the in-between.
It was a harrowing prospect to take any kind of road trip at a time like this. With all the buildings shuffled around, there was no guarantee that you would find a working gas station or a motel. You were just as likely to roll up with your last ounce of gasoline to a florist or a decommissioned fire department.
Meryl was confident we’d be fine.
There was no indication of where she got this confidence.

While Meryl was upstairs showering, Sam was busy transferring her belongings from her junky thrift store suitcase to a rolling luggage cart she'd found upstairs.
This was the first time we’d been alone together for more than a minute and I was struggling to act natural.
"So, uh. How long have you two known each other?" Willing her to, unbidden, give extra details that I wanted, but was too afraid to ask for directly.
She flinched when she heard my voice, visibly bothered that I was hanging around her. "Huh? What now?”
“I was wondering how you know each other.”
“Meryl?” Sam sighed and zipped up the side pocket, then started cramming her meager amount of clothing into the main compartment. “No big story. We met just out of high school. Ran in the same circles. Lost touch a few years ago and I would have been fine to leave it at that. But…” She gestured around her. "You know. Things are kind of too fucked for words right now so I'll take whoever I can get. Sure as hell wasn’t going to hang out with my coworkers during this living hell."
“I see.”
“What's your excuse?”
“Hmm?”
Sam stopped packing long enough to stare at me, studying me. “What sweet talk did Meryl give you to trick you into coming along?”
“Well…” The honest answer is I wept openly and begged for it. I shrugged.
“I hope to god she's not your type.”
I dug my thumbnail into my thigh. What did that mean? Does she already have me figured out?
“It's not that, it-” I was stopped by something moving out in the darkness. A brief flash of something red, glowing in the night. Moving like it was circling us.
Sam zipped up her new bag. “What's up? Is it a car?”
“No, it's-” The light vanished. I peeked out the sliding glass window. “I don't know. Probably nothing.”
Sam harrumphed and returned to her luggage, done with me.

Sam took her turn in the shower and I took over the downstairs half bath to brush my teeth. I’d already burned through most of my travel size toothpaste.
Halfway through brushing, Meryl appeared in the doorway.
“Hey.”
I turned and spit as elegantly as I could. “Oh. Hey.” My heart sped up as I caught the scent of her hair.
“So I was looking around and noticed that these people don’t seem like they entertain often.”
“Oh?”
“No guest room to speak of.”
“Okay.” I fidgeted with my toothbrush. The mint of my toothpaste was still smoldering in my mouth.
“What I mean is they’ve only got the one bed. And I don’t think all three of us are going to fit comfortably.”
“I see.” With nothing else to do with my hands, I flicked the bristles of the toothbrush frantically. It was all I could do to stifle the sudden throbbing gravity in my chest as I waited to see if she was going to ask me what I thought she was.
“If you’re okay with it, I could arrange for us to share.”
“Yeah, that’s great. I mean that’s fine. Okay.”
A smooth smile eased across her face. "Okay. I'll make Sam take the couch downstairs. As captain I have authority to determine sleeping arrangements."
She set her hand on my arm and a warm chill ran through me. “Once we get alone, you and I are going to have a little talk.”

During my turn in the shower I was giddy and terrified, wrestling with the idea that something was definitely about to happen. But at the same time, my dumb broken brain was mired in doubt that I was completely misreading the situation and somehow I'd end up on the floor alone. Or she’d take the opportunity to tell me that it wasn’t working out and I was kicked off of the trip.
A few days ago I was in this same situation, shaving my legs while desperately hoping a lady I fancied would pounce on me.
I was shocked out of the thought by the air suddenly becoming heavy and a pressure rising in my chest. Light dimming. Then all at once the tile seemed to shift and the bathroom tightened around me like there was a gigantic snake in the walls pressing in.
The ceiling above me sagged and the lights flickered, dust shaking loose.
The air grew thin as the walls creaked and buckled.
Then a distant snap and the lights returned, blinding me. When my vision faded back in, the walls were still in one piece. All was as it should be, but the water had turned ice cold.
Pressed my hand to the the tile and it shifted under my touch before locking into place. There was still a trace of ceiling dust on my shoulder.
No further occurrences.

When I left the bathroom, Sam and Meryl were in the midst of a standoff.
“Why do you two get the bed? I shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch just because you want to try and fuck a hitchhiker.”
I choked and my face got hot.
“Sam, don’t be like this. It’s convention rules, remember? Couples always get the first pick of the bed.”
“You don’t count as a couple. You’re pre-hookup at most.”
“You’re being difficult, Sam.”
“So if I were willing to let you have your way with me, I’d get the bed?”
“Please, if that were the case you’d-”
“You think I won’t?”
Meryl stopped. “What?”
The energy in the room shifted and I instantly felt like an intruder. There seemed to be a long history leading up to this moment that was beyond me. A history Sam had not bothered to tell me about downstairs.
Meryl cleared her throat. “Are you offering what I think you are?”
Sam smiled and moved in a step, daring her. “You think I fucking won’t?”

The energy between them was making it hard to breathe so I grabbed my things and went toward the door. They didn’t even notice me go.

I sat downstairs on the couch, biting my fingers, hoping that Meryl would come downstairs to fetch me and that encounter with Sam was a big joke that everyone enjoyed and now it was over.
But no one came downstairs. Their door was closed.
Not sure what I expected. This situation seems on par with most every venture in my life.
I was spreading out the blanket on the couch downstairs when I heard the first moan.

My hair was still wet and now the pillow was damp. I should have blow dried it when I had the chance, but now it was too late. There was no way to do anything but sit quietly and wait for the upstairs antics to finish.
Another deep moan.
It twisted my guts.
Whose voice was that? What were they doing up there? What… position?
This is what I get for being nice. That could have been me up there. I should have taken the opportunity to drop to my knees and beg for it. Instead of biting my tongue I should have thrown myself on the bed and offered my flesh. Screaming, “Take me, you maniacs!”

After fidgeting for an age, miles away from sleep, I crept my hand down between my legs. Maybe I could live vicariously through them.
I didn’t get far. As their heaving moans intensified, instead of wanting to get off, it made me want to gnaw all my own fingers to the knuckle.
Oh well. I pulled the blanket over my head and cocooned myself, but it didn’t block out the sound.
Nothing to do but think.

When asked about what I was doing on my trip, I vaguely waved it away as a vacation.
I was there on the pretense of a casual meet-up with a friend. She was polite and kind enough to me, but secretly the real reason I was there wasn’t to have a pleasant vacation. I wanted to get my brains fucked out. Or best offer.
We’d been friends for some time but I’d never gathered to courage to even hint that I was aggressively attracted to her.
My longshot wish was that while we were eating at the local crepe restaurant she would somehow sense my intentions, my deep need, my good underwear.
But two days from my return flight and we had not embraced passion. In fact it was exactly the tame encounter that you would expect from two people meeting for the first time.
Which I should have anticipated.
When the incident occurred, I was collapsed on my hotel bed feeling miserable and stupid for assuming anything serious would happen from me merely wishing for it. The ocean appearing outside didn’t do any favors for my exhausted brain.

The constant sex noise was driving me mad so I got up to stand in the kitchen which was at least slightly farther away from the stairs.
There wasn’t anywhere in this house I was going to get peace, and going outside was out of the question. So instead I turned on the tap and stared at the kitchen sink, trying to will myself to forget the loud fuckery upstairs.
I closed my eyes and let the water run over my fingers, tracing the stream backwards in my mind. Down through the fixtures, underground, through thousands of pipes all snaking back through the dark, wet earth through a treatment plant to a public reservoir somewhere in Oregon.
Then my focus was broken by the loudest moan yet.
“Oh my god.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “What am I even doing here?”
I shut the tap off in a huff. As I did, there was a faint glimmer from outside. I opened the floral curtains to get a better look. Had to squint and wait before it showed itself again.
Deep in the trees at the far end of the field, pushed back from the road, another sharp red light floating. Only there for a moment.
“What the hell are you?”
The light sent a wet chill down my spine. The same sort of chill I would get walking at night. Or when I would look out the back porch at home and see shapes in the sky.
The feeling passed as another squeaking moan pierced the ceiling.
I turned away from the window and went back to the living room. This was unbearably annoying but also, why not get a better listen? I mean, I was being forced to listen to this anyway. I don’t need to rationalize my behavior.
I got up three steps before a creaky board made me stop and take a seat.
In between the louder moans, there was a soft bed of whispers and low sounds. I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening. What were they saying to each other? What sort of things does Meryl say in bed? Is it dirty talk? Or is she too embarrassed by it? God knows I could probably never bring myself to say or do anything really crazy. I would probably be boring.
At the sound of what might have been one of them getting out of bed I panicked and returned to the couch. No one left the room. Soon after the steady rhythm resumed.

Eventually I must have drifted off. I woke up later to the sound of footsteps from upstairs. There was no way to know how much time had passed. I would have pretended to be asleep, but something tugged at me and I sat up just as Meryl began descending the stairs. Bare legs, wearing a stolen shirt that was far too big for her, turned into pajamas.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
She came down and I pulled the blankets aside so she could sit next to me. Up close she looked thoroughly and freshly tussled. Casually glowing.
She scratched the back of her neck and tugged at her hair. “Are you mad?”
“No. I don’t know.”
“Could you hear us?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“This is a bit awkward.”
I fiddled with the blanket in my lap until I got up the courage to speak. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you and Sam... a couple?”
“Ha! No, god no. Not now, not ever.” She folded her legs under herself. “We knew each other ages ago. Always had this flirty thing going on, but it was just to tease me. Or I thought I was.”
“So what was that?”
“I don’t even know.” Meryl waved it away. “We almost did it once, actually. A bunch of us were out at a karaoke bar. Drunk. Me and Sam, well- I don’t know what set it off, but we went and started feeling each other up in a side room. I got my hand down her pants when she decided she wasn’t having it and she bit me on the nose. Hard.” She rubbed the phantom teeth marks at the memory. “Sorry. Is that way too much information? It is, isn’t it?”
“It’s fine.”
“I swear I didn’t invite you along to make you listen to me fuck around.”
“Okay.”
“I’m honestly as shocked as anybody. I didn’t think Sam had it in her.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s that look? Don’t worry about Sam. Now that we’ve done the deed, she’ll probably get bored and never speak to me again. Or worse. Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up to her running me over repeatedly with the car.”
“Okay.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “…are you jealous?”
“No.”
“I knew it. You are mad.”
“No. I’m not anything.”
“You’re allowed to be mad. I would be.” She sat staring at me for a long time, then scooted closer. “Let me ask you, and you have to be honest.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s say things happened differently and Sam slept down here and hypothetically you and me were upstairs in bed. Would you…?” Her hand moved to my shoulder and I flinched. Her fingers drifting through my hair. “Would we have been making Sam jealous?”
My heart exploded and all my blood went straight to my brain. My instinct was to let the shame take over and hide, but we were alone here. Aside from Sam upstairs, we were as alone in the world as we were ever going to be. Even so, all I could manage was breaking eye contact and nodding weakly. “Maybe.”
Meryl smiled. “Maybe?”
“I, uh. Can I…?”
“What is it?”
For a brief moment I could picture what happened a week ago. My last proper dinner with my friend, the one I was visiting. Sitting in an outdoor restaurant, surrounded by the netting they put up to keep the bugs out. This was my last chance to admit to her why I really went to the expense of a week long trip, how it was all to see her, be close to her. But each time I tried to confess, my mouth dried out and I was overwhelmed by how many people were nearby and every word I wanted to say was stamped out by the prospect of being horribly embarrassed in front of every single one of them. In the end I didn’t say anything, and spent the rest of my time before and after the incident thinking about how I was defeated by my own cowardice.
But out here, in this house we’ve broken into, no strangers for miles, this was the best opportunity I would ever have to be honest. If I didn’t say anything now, it would never happen.
Still, I could only get out a whisper. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh? Now?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “No you don’t. My mouth has been very busy tonight.”
Maybe it’s the stress that’s driving me toward her at mach speed when every other relationship I’ve attempted has fermented, molded, rotted on the vine.
Or maybe it is so much easier for me to pursue a kiss when I’ve been listening to her fuck for who knows how long.
She didn’t pull away as I drifted into her and pressed my lips to her. Just a brief, sweet kiss.
My heart was beating so hard my chest was ready to implode.
Meryl touched my chin, her hand warm. “Yeah?”
A hard suck and her tongue was pressing into my mouth.

Savoring the taste of her, and somewhere mixed in, the faint traces of her time with Sam.
“You’re a bit of dirty girl, aren’t you?” Her leg crept over my lap and she pulled me into another kiss.
The only answer I could give was to moan into her mouth. Fighting to keep from being tangled in the blanket.

Her tongue was sliding against mine when her whole body slumped and she broke the kiss.
She pulled away and patted me on the shoulders. “Hold on.” Meryl sighed and pulled her hair back. “I know this is probably really shitty but I. Am. Exhausted.”
I couldn’t say anything, as my lips were buzzing.
“I don’t mean to be a tease, but I’m fading fast.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze. “And I’d stay down here with you but this couch is not going to cut it. And Sam is already conked out, so she’s not moving from upstairs.”
Even as she said it, she was looking around at the floor, considering staying.
“It’s okay. It’s fine.” Not that I wanted to scare her away. I would have been fine struggling to fit us both on this couch, but in all honesty I was worried I’d somehow find a way to embarrass myself to such a degree that they would abandon me here tomorrow morning. “You’ve been driving all day. You deserve a bed.”
“Yeah. I do, don’t I?” She eyed the stairs, still considering. “Tell you what. Next time we stop at a place with a proper bed, I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” She booped me on the nose as she stood up. “Deal?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She kissed me on the forehead as she heaved herself up. “You’re cute, you know that?”
She stood there for a moment longer, watching me, wobbling on her feet as she held off exhaustion.
My heart was beating so hard I thought I might pass out. “Go on. I’ll be fine. Get some rest.”
I hid my smile behind my hair.

There was no room inside me for disappointment, as full as I was with giddy excitement. After she limped upstairs, I tried to lay down and sleep but I was too full of energy and my face was hurting from smiling.
I hopped into the kitchen, biting my lips to keep from giggling out loud.
While I was punching the air to work out my giddiness, I noticed the refrigerator and its collection of tourist magnets. European cities I’d never see. Cities that might be as scrambled as we are here.
I pulled off a rectangular magnet depicting Bath. Something deep tugged at me and this magnet was mine now. I wanted a souvenir of this trip.

A flicker of motion caught my eye. Out in the field was the red light, no longer moving among the trees. Now it was in the open field, a free floating specter. While I watched, it pulsed brighter, then rose ten feet in the air and hung there. Waiting.
No, thank you. I was in far too good of a mood to let this creep me out now. I promptly pulled the curtains closed, shut off the lights and went back to the couch to worm my way under the blanket, still clutching the magnet.
Fuck all you spooky whatevers. I kissed a lady.

As scary as this situation might be, as weird as tomorrow or the next day will be, there’s a strange, wonderful joy in being lost out here. Even if the whole world is messed up.
Heartbeat settled and all the nervous energy finally dissipated. Then, just before I drifted off, I heard the steady sound of an impossible subway rumbling underground.

https://a.co/d/grcJvhv

This story was originally written as a entry into a writing contest with the prompt "Preserve or Purge". Mostly wrote it as proof that I can be anything besides terminally long-winded.
And I figured I'd release it out into the world on my birthday as some tiny bit of proof of that whole "I'm a writer" thing.

Not much else to say about it that isn't already in the story. You can probably guess that I don't have a great relationship with my mother.

If you enjoyed it, or didn't and have disposable income to burn, or just want to wish me a happy birthday, why not throw something into the tip jar which I am now aggressively shaking at you while making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact:

Or, alternately, drop a like so I get that nice rush of endorphins that will hopefully overrule the terror of being seen.