Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse

Are we done yet?

It had been nearly three months since I had been left with Garrett to train. Our living arrangement was starting to grate on me. He was starting to open up, and be friendlier, but he was still a boring companion. He wouldn't reveal too much about himself, and in the end, what little attraction I had for him was turned off by his distance.

When the rain came, I thought cabin fever might force him to converse more, but he had other plans. "Here, put this on." Garrett threw a poncho at me.

My jaw ceased mid-chew, and I stared at the plastic coat. "What for?"

"You'll want to stay dry if possible. Training in the rain sucks."

"It's not raining, it's pouring."

"Yeah, but you aren't going to be snoring," he quipped deadpan.

I proceeded to nibble on my not-so-lucky charms like he wasn't there. His patience was always paper-thin, but he waited for me to finish my meal before pulling my bowl from me. I took as much time as I needed and wanted to get my shoes and poncho on. All the while, Garrett was threatening a tantrum.

When I finally met him at the door, he looked like he was struggling not to blow up over such a trifling thing as my slow-motion morning starts. I twisted my mouth, sucking the last bits of yellow stars and green clovers from my teeth. "Well let's get out there, pokey." I motioned to the door without any hint of humor in my voice. Instead of glaring at my sardonic humor like I expected him to, he smiled. My face scrunched in confusion at the anomaly. "What's so funny?"

"Just for that, I'm going to work you until you puke."

"Ah, the bulimia workout today. Fun."

"Are you ever going to take this seriously?" he asked.

"Are you ever going to not take it seriously?" I asked. He shook his head. "Well, then somebody's got to put some personality into the mix." He looked me over like he wanted to respond to that statement, but he just opened the door for me to exit.

The rain was coming down hard and fast. My poncho kept my shirt dry, but since the yard was saturated, there was no hope of keeping my shoes and pants dry. "This won't last long. We can wait until it's done." I turned to see Garrett's refusal for myself, but he wasn't behind me. "Damn it." I whipped around, offering the sheeting veil around me a cursory glance, but he wasn't anywhere in sight.

I already knew this wasn't going to be fun. Somewhere between looking for a weapon and wondering if my shoes were machine washable, I was pushed to the ground. I flipped over to defend myself, but he was gone.

I got to my feet and scanned again. Aside from the yard directly around the house, we didn't mow down much of the acreage. The foliage on the outskirts had taken over in short order. An abundance of lilac bushes and cedar trees had staked a claim on anything we left alone. At that point, I could barely see beyond the rain anyway.

I was pushed down again before I even finished my scan. I jumped up, hoping to catch his escape, but he was gone. I ran from my sitting duck spot in search of solace. I hid myself behind a bundle of fountain grass.

I waited there for some time, before my feet were kicked out beneath me. I face-planted in the mud. This time I didn't bother getting up fast. Garrett had established his game. He was going to bowl me over like an overeager dog until I stopped him. Every time he managed to knock me down, I should consider myself dead.

Since remaining dry was no longer a task I could accomplish, I ripped off the poncho. With it off, I had far better hearing and vision. I wondered if Garrett had intended for me to figure that out.