Me and My Husband

 They call it a requiem; an act of remembrance. It's a pretty word, I can see why it's the title for pretty much every eulogy ever written. But I don't think it applies; how could it be an act of remembrance when there's no need to remember? My husband is not dead, so I keep the cabin neat and orderly.

We don't get visitors too often, what with us being off in the middle of the mountains, and usually when we do I've known they were coming for a while. This couple has been on their way for a while now, and it seems that they've finally lost their way. I have a ham in the oven for them, and if they take much longer it's going to dry out.

There's two hard taps on the door. Just loud enough to be heard over the tea kettle's whine. I smooth down my pants and pick up my cane from its spot by the table. I answer the door with a smile I hope comes across as cheery. The woman stands there with her boyfriend. Both of them look out of breath. She looks a bit like I did when I was younger. I can see the similarities in her jaw and the bridge of her nose.

"Hi," she says, "we were wondering if we could use your phone? We're a little lost." She laughs a little awkwardly, and I widen my smile in response.

"Of course." I open the door for them, and gesture for them to come inside. "Who would you like to call?"

"Parks Authority, if it's not too much trouble." The boyfriend shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack without even asking first. How rude.

"I'll call them up for you, then. In the meantime, please help yourself." I gesture to the table I've set, plates of food prepared in front of each seat. "My husband will be here any moment now."

The woman looks hesitant, but the boyfriend does not. He thanks me quickly and takes a seat as I head back towards the kitchen. The woman is only half-watching me out of the corner of her eye, so I unplug the phone before I dial the numbers. I pick up the handset and speak into it.

"Hello, I have two hikers up at my house. Yes. The one halfway up the mountain. Thank you." I put the handset back on the stand and take the ham out of the oven. The skin is a bit dried out but not too bad. If they had arrived a few minutes earlier it would have been perfect. That was an annoyance, but oh well. "Excuse me, young man. Would you mind helping me?" The boyfriend looks up from his plate.

"Yes ma'am." He says, pushing his chair back. He walks into the kitchen and picks up the ham. The woman is distracted, trying to get a signal on her phone. Perfect. While he's turned, I pick a knife off the counter and make my move. The knife comes down and finds a home in his carotid artery. The woman hears the thump he makes and turns around, screaming. I sigh. Surely she knows no one can hear her up here, so what's the point? I'm a lot less precise with this one, I don't need her, not really. I go back to the kitchen and start cutting. When I'm almost done, I hear another knock at the door. My husband must be home. I go to the door and let him in. He silently follows me back to the kitchen, where I finish up my cutting. I have the heart out now, and I offer it up to him. He takes it in his giant hands and I pull apart the stitches keeping his chest whole, and the heart finds a new home. That ought to hold us over for another few months, until another loses their way.