Tim Washburn - Powerless

She looks up and laughs. “Let me guess. Elmer Fudd?”

“Not rabbit hunting. I’m going to bag us a deer.” He props the rifle against the wall and takes a seat on the sofa. He works his fingers through his long, bushy beard.

“You look more like a swami. I don’t think I knew you were a deer hunter. Or any kind of hunter, for that matter.”

“Does that change your perception of me?”

She puts a chipped black nail to her lip. “I’m not a big fan of killing animals, but I have to say you’re rockin’ that camo look.”

“I’m not really much of a hunter. I haven’t been hunting in twenty years—probably the last time that rifle was fired.”

Kaylee rests a hand on his thigh. “I thought we were living off the fruits of love.”

Sam covers her hand with his. “I don’t think love is going to fill our stomachs. It fills everything else I need—oh God, does it—but as someone once said: we can’t live on love alone.” Their playful silliness is a welcome relief from the drudgery.

“Do you have any bullets for that thing?”

“I think so. Somewhere in the garage. Or used to be. Might take me a while to find them.”

“I’m going with you.”

“To the garage?”

“No, I’m going hunting with you.”

“I thought you just said you didn’t approve of hunting animals?”

“I don’t for those people who hunt just for sport. But if we’re on the verge of starving to death, I can make an exception.”

“You get dressed while I go find the ammunition.”

Kaylee jumps off the couch to dress like they were going out on a date in town as Sam steps out the door and into the cold garage. It’s large enough to hold three cars, but currently holds none. He and Kaylee had abandoned both of their cars at the Space Weather Prediction Center. The shelving against the far wall is stacked with reminders of a past life: an electric leaf blower, a trickle charger for car batteries, a drill and a power sander, and a couple of space heaters.

Sam walks over to the cabinets above his workbench and clicks on the headlamp he had retrieved from the kitchen. He begins pawing through drawers in search of the 30-30 cartridges he remembers seeing at some point over the last five years. He climbs on top of the workbench and searches through a couple of wall cabinets and finds them at the very back of a cabinet filled with yard chemicals. The box, oily from some spilled chemical, disintegrates in his hand, scattering bullets across the garage floor. He climbs down and scoops a handful of the dull brass and stuffs them in his pocket.

He reenters the house to find Kaylee in the kitchen, dressed in one of his old coats and a pair of old ski pants. The pants are about seven inches too long and her hands are buried somewhere in the sleeves of the coat.

“You look like a scarecrow. I’m glad we’re going where we won’t be seen.”

Kaylee pirouettes with her arms wide. “Don’t like the new look?” She stops and plants a hand on her hip. “Did you find the bullets?”

“Yeah, I did. Ready for hunting?”

“Aren’t you missing your checkered hat, Mr. Fudd?”

Sam slaps her on the ass as he passes. “C’mon, silly wabbit.”

He pulls on his heavy coat and leads them out the side entrance of his home. Most of the snow has melted under the bright sun, but there are still patches of white remaining in the deeper shadows. Sam’s house sits at the base of a tall hill, the Front Range to the Rocky Mountains that stretch three thousand miles across two countries. Both are sucking air not long after starting up the hill. They’re soon shedding jackets as they labor upward at a fifteen-degree angle. Sam’s base layer is saturated with sweat, and he glances over to see Kaylee suffering the same fate.

“How… much… further?” Kaylee says.

“Don’t know. First time I’ve been up here.” He gives Kaylee a smile and she replies with a scowl. They’re silent the remainder of the way until topping the hill many minutes later.

“Break?” Kaylee says, collapsing onto the surface of a large boulder. Sam walks over to join her.

Kaylee brushes the damp hair from her face. “Is Bambi going to come to us or how does this work?”

Sam squints up at the sun. “This late in the day, we need to find a water hole and catch them coming in.” He scans their surroundings. “There’s a creek down there. Probably be the best spot to hole up. The good news is it’s all downhill to the creek.”

“I hear a but coming.”

“Well, it’s uphill on the way back. And, hopefully, we’ll be loaded down with deer meat.”

“Great,” Kaylee says. She pushes off the rock and begins walking across the ridge and Sam hurries to catch up. Instead of going straight down the backside of the large hill, they wind their way down, walking across the face then back, slowly descending to the small valley.

“Try not to make any noise,” Sam whispers to her as he draws up close. He grabs a clump of grass and tosses it up into the breeze. “We need to be downwind of them, but I have no idea which direction they’ll be coming from.”

“What if we stay here?” Kaylee whispers. “The wind is in our faces and we can watch both sides of the stream from here. Can you shoot that far?”

“I think so. That’s a good idea. I knew I would make a hunter out of you.”

She punches him in the arm. They work their way a little lower until they come to a rock outcropping where they take up position. Sam grabs a water bottle from his coat pocket and offers the water to her first. She guzzles a little more than half and hands the rest back to him.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” Kaylee whispers.

“It is, isn’t it? We should hike up here more.”

Kaylee gives him an angry glare. “I didn’t necessarily say it had to be this exact spot, Sam. We can see almost the same thing from your back deck. A lot easier than climbing that damn hill again.”

He smiles. “It’ll probably be a while before the deer trickle in.”

They lie down beside each other faceup, staring at the cottony clouds racing across the blue sky.

“How do you think this is going to end up?” Sam says while still staring at the sky.

“You mean me and you, or the world in general?”

“Both, I guess.”

“It ends how it ends, Sam. I know you’re a planner, that you like to have a plan for what happens in the next hour, the next day, and so on and so on. But it’s not that way anymore. We don’t know what’s going to happen. As for you and me, our relationship continues until it ends.”

“Can you really look at the world that way?”

“Sure. Remember what the tattoo along my side says? ‘Live like there’s no tomorrow’? That’s more true now than ever.” She turns to face Sam. “I love spending time with you, Sam. Hell, the sex is fantastic, but how can we plan for tomorrow if we can’t conceive what tomorrow will be?”

“You’re philosophical to still be relatively young. I thought wisdom came with age.”

“Don’t get hung up on the age thing, Sam. And quit trying to plan out your life. Let’s just take it a day at a time.”

Sam turns to meet her gaze. “I don’t know if I can overcome my anal side.” He turns back to the sky.

“We’ll work on it.”

The next few moments neither speaks, each enjoying the panoramic view.

Kaylee rises up to shimmy out of the ski pants. She’s now down to a pair of Sam’s old gym shorts and a T-shirt. “Why did I wear these things anyway?”

“You’ll be glad you have them when the sun goes down.” Their lids grow heavy from the warmth of the sun and, with their bodies tired from exertion, they doze for a while.

Sometime later, the sun is lower in the sky when Kaylee awakens and leans over to kiss Sam. “Hey, sleepyhead, are the deer going to announce themselves or should we be on the lookout?”