⚝──⭒─What We Make For Ourselves─⭒──⚝

Chapter 10: Pretzel

I once heard this song about being 'cold and shamed' in a gas station once. I never bothered to figure out who sang it, but the song perfectly fits my current predicament. Right now, I'm lying on the stone ledge of a water fountain with my pants ripped to shreds and the overhead sun shining in my face. So maybe I wasn't lying on the floor exposed, but I sure was shamed. And afraid. The pistol at my side comforted me somewhat.

How could we have failed to prevent Judgment Day? How can we be sure we can prevent it this time if the Terminators are able to leave a piece of themselves behind?

I push the thought away. I should be grateful that Reyna saved my life, and I am. But that doesn't mean I'm not curious as to who she really is.

Who is Reyna? Maybe the question I should be asking is who was Reyna before the genetic enhancements?

She remembered her father, so her memory couldn't have been wiped. But the way she paused by Auntie Anne's made it seem like she remembered something, even though it was only a very quick pause.

I came up with the following:

She used to work at Auntie Anne's before Judgement Day. Sue me for being shallow, but who wouldn't want to work there while getting fresh. Sugared. Pretzels. I tried one once, and if it weren't for the safety of the future, I'd be buying shares from Auntie Anne's right now.She used to go there with her family, friends, etc. This is probably the most reasonable and self-explanatory point, but this is only the second point in the list. Auntie Anne's was her favorite place to eat. This correlates with the second point, but maybe she found a special comfort and solace in the pretzels that no one did. Maybe she used to eat or work here after school?She was traumatized by it. Maybe Auntie Anne's brought up some memories she didn't want to remember. Bittersweet memories she shared with someone she loved. Something terrible happened while she worked there (if she worked there at all). The list could go on. Whatever she didn't want to remember, I wouldn't want to remember either.She used to be the mascot of Auntie Anne's. What? I'm bored out of my mind while waiting for Reyna. I used to think mascots were traumatizing. Once, when I was nine, I was waiting in line at McDonald's for my cheeseburger when an employee dressed as Ronald McDonald popped up in front of me. He asked me if I wanted a Happy Meal to 'turn that frown upside down.' Correction: I was not frowning, I was snarling. Long story short, the employee scared me and I ran away before I could pay for his medical expenses.

Anyways, imagining Reyna in a blue pretzel costume was hilarious.Even without a pretzel costume, but with a smile on her face and entertaining kids instead of her watchful, vigilant stare.

A sudden tapping on the glass ceiling jolts me out of my thoughts. I bite down on my lip in surprise, hard. Blood begins streaming down my chin. I didn't realize I had been chewing on it. I pull out my pistol and with my back flat against the ledge, I take aim at—a bird. It pecks on the ceiling like a woodpecker before flying away.

I breathe a sigh of relief. It definitely wasn't the JEM-9 Reyna told me about. Just like the T-1000, it can only transform into something of equal size. It was too large to transform into a bird.

"John?"

This time, I sit up straight, ignore the pain in my thigh, and aim at the voice in front of me.

"Whoa, relax. It's me." Reyna raises her hands in surrender. One of her hands had a pair of jeans and a few cans of spam.

She had traded her police uniform for a dark green jacket, a bullet proof vest on top of a dark shirt, blue jeans, leather boots, and biker gloves. I wanted to kick myself in the left thigh. Why did I just imagine her in a pretzel costume?

"Sorry. It's just..." I lowered my pistol, "That police officer's uniform didn't do you justice, huh?" Idiot.

She smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "It did its time. What happened to your lip?" She rushes over to inspect my bleeding lower lip. With gentleness I never knew possible, she slowly runs her thumb along my lip.

Kiss her.

No, idiot. She'll terminate you.

Her mission is to protect you from being terminated. Idiot.

You'll have more than a bleeding lip if you do.

I wipe away the blood with the sleeve of my jacket. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"I, um, found this for you." She places the pair of jeans beside me. "Do you need help putting them on?"

I shake my head. "No, thanks. I may have been shot, but I can put a pair of jeans on myself."

Reyna turns her back to me as I change into my jeans. It wasn't really necessary considering that she was the one who tore off my jeans and stitched my thigh without said jeans.

"We must change vehicles the first chance we get. I... permanently borrowed the police car from a local station. Don't worry, I disposed of the tracker, but it won't be long before someone recognizes the plate number."

"We should leave first thing in the morning, then."

"That would be best."

For lunch, Reyna cooks the spam with a portable stove and some spices she found. With one hand, she cooks the spam; with the other, she grips her rifle.

We don't eat dinner. We ate too much of Reyna's spam.

Later that night. Reyna and I shroud ourselves in wool blankets she found from a store called Pottery Barn. From what she told me, with all the home decor, furniture, and beddings, Pottery Barn doesn't sell a lot of pottery.

"Rest." Reyna commands, wrapping her blanket tighter. "I'll take the first watch."

"Reyna, I've been resting for hours. Let me take the first watch."

"If you want to take watch that bad, we'll do it in two hour intervals, so don't worry about not watching."

"Whatever."

I hate not being able to do anything but lie down on a fountain ledge. Reyna did so much for me today, and she probably will do a lot more for me until we terminate the JEM-9. She deserves to rest.

"War never rests, John. Time never rests. And so do I, not until the enemy is defeated." Reyna snorts. "And yes, you said that out loud."

"Do you like pretzels, Reyna?" I blurt out.

Reyna freezes. "W-What?"

Do 'pretzels' mean something else in the future? "Never mind, I shouldn't have asked-"

"No, it's fine, it's just..." Reyna swallows. "I did. Enjoy pretzels, I mean. But there's not a lot of those in the future." She laughs sadly to herself. "I had a Doberman. Her name was Pretzel."

"I had a dog, too. A German Shepherd named Max."

"Why do you think this mall became abandoned?"

She was changing the subject. It was ignorant and disrespectful of me to delve into her past like that. She'll talk about it when she wants to. But not now.

"It's in the middle of the desert. Who would want to drive all the way out here?"