Jonas and the Werefish
6

Jonas feverishly searched every nook and cranny in the junkyard to replace the breach that the Weirdling woman might have used to get into his fortress. He looked behind old cars and fenders that were propped against the corrugated metal walls: anyplace where there might be the slightest separation between the sheets of metal that would accommodate even the most minuscule possibility of access into his citadel of impregnability against the hostile outside world... but he could replace nothing. In the final analysis, he could only deduce that the Weirdling creature had slipped through the gate somehow, unbeknownst to him when he opened it for his own passage.

He would have to double down, he recognized, on his attention to security for his safety and well-being. And he could not afford to act impulsively or out of exasperation as he had when he tossed the body of the dead zucchini woman or whatever off the top of his fortress to her zucchini cohorts on the ground below for them to eat. He should have eaten her. Her body could have provided him nourishment for days, at a minimum.

On the bright side, if there was one, Jonas discovered a bag of dehydrated potato slices in a box in one of the automobile shells and a can of butter powder; the sort of stuff included in a survival food kit.

On the darker side: when Jonas returned to his mobile home, he found a box sitting in the center of his living room area. And there was the tail of a cat poking out a hole in the box that was designed as a hand grip. It was yellow and white striped.

Jonas could detect no movement, so he wasn’t sure if the cat inside the box was alive or not, or dead.

Is this some kind of joke? he thought, or a test of some kind? Am I supposed to pull the cat’s tail to determine if it is alive or dead? And then the box will explode, finally eliminating me and the rest of humankind along with me? Or if I pull the cat’s tail will just create a noise like a loud fart or something?

He stood in silence and stared at the cardboard box for a full minute or two.

It was predominately green in color but there was a large image on one side of the box that sort of looked like a multicolored artichoke with the words INTERNATIONAL VEGETABLE CENTER curved over it in large rainbow lettering.

Jonas had never heard of them.

Is there such an organization? He thought. Is it random that this particular box, out of all the potential boxes in the world box, sits in my living room with a cat inside that may or may not be dead or alive... or may or may not be alive or dead?“

You are studying me,” he mumbled.

“Hello...” he heard from the CB radio across the room. “Is there anybody out there?”

It was the same female voice that Jonas had heard from the CB a couple of times before. “I’m still trying to figure this thing,” she said. “I don’t even know if I’ve got it turned on or not. Hello.”

Jonas looked away from the weird cardboard box with the tail of a cat sticking out of it to the CB radio. It resembled an old desktop stereo/radio but with more knobs. It was typical of the style of CBs that were used in wrecking yards to communicate with the tow trucks when they’d been dispatched. It had a couple of red and blue led power meters and one dial-style meter that resembled the speedometer in an old car. And of course, it was equipped with a black amplified handheld radio microphone that fit into a desktop stand.

“Hello...” came the female voice again. The dial style meter pegged and the blue led meter replicated a wave that represented the woman’s voice.

“They are fucking with my mind,” Jonas said under his breath.

“Please help me,” came the voice of a female from the CB radio again, “somebody. I’m being held prisoner in an old mannequin factory.”

Mannequin factory? Jonas thought. That was a nice touch if this was a fabricated damsel in distress call. Jonas had heard of an old mannequin factor in the general vicinity, one hundred miles away or so, but could not recall where it was located exactly. He’d never been certain if it was just the grist of urban legend or if one had actually existed at one time.

“Please,” came the voice from the CB, distressed and verging on pathetic. “I can’t be the last woman on the planet... Can I?”

Jonas picked up the microphone and pressed the button so he could speak.

“Maybe,” he said. “I’ve been thinking for sure that I was the last human being alive.”

“What!?” the woman said. “Hello! Is there somebody there?”

“Yes,” Jonas said. “There is someone...”

“Oh thank Jesus,” the woman said. “I was afraid that I was going to live the rest of my life with all these weird old mannequins.”

“Yeah,” Jonas said, “that’d be pretty weird alright.”

“They first wanted to put me in a dildo factory,” the woman said.

“What?” Jonas said.“When they captured me,” she said, “they gave me the choice of being held captive in this old mannequin factory or living in a building where people used to make sex toys.”

“You’ve seen them?” Jonas said.

“No,” the woman said.

“Then you’ve communicated with them somehow,” Jonas said.

“I woke up in the dildo factory,” she said. “And I freaked out. I’m very attractive and my sex drive is above average, probably way above average. It didn’t take Einstein’s wife to figure out that the reason they put me in a dildo factory is because they knew that at some point I’d get so horny that I’d start using the toys on myself, and they would be watching.”

“But how did you get them to move you?” Jonas asked.

“I said no,” she said. “I screamed at them and started destroying all the dildos and the other toys and stopped eating. I knew they were watching me. C’mon! Of course, they are watching us. You know that. They are watching us right now. The fact is likely that the reason that you and I are the last man and woman left on the planet is because they want us to fuck.”

“TMI,” Jonas said.

“What?” the woman said.

“Too much information,” Jonas said. “And too fast.”

“So when are you coming for me?” the woman asked.

“Coming for you?” Jonas asked.“You don’t expect me to come for you, do you?” she asked.

“No, I guess, I don’t,” Jonas said.

“You won’t be disappointed,” the woman said. “Like I told you, I’m attractive and I have large breasts. You know what I look like in fact, or you should.”

“Why?” Jonas said. “How do I know what you look like?”

“Because I’m a celebrity,” the woman said. “Or I was.”

“A celebrity?” Jonas said.

“I was the spokeswoman for the largest telephone service provider in the world,” she said. “My face was on television and billboards and the internet twenty-four-seven.”

“Iris?” Jonas said. “Vandertrout?”

“That’s why I think they took me,” she said, “I was an obvious target because my face is everywhere, or it was.”

“They didn’t take me,” Jonas said. “I survived, for some reason.”

“They didn’t want you dead,” Iris said.

“I think I was just immune to their poison,” Jonas said. “But my wife didn’t make it... or our unborn child.”

“I’m sorry,” Iris Vandertrout said.

“But they’ve been playing games with me like stealing my food and other stuff,” Jonas said. “They somehow managed to put a box in my living room, without me knowing it. And there’s a cat inside the box with its tail sticking out a hole in the side.”

“A cat?” Iris said, “That’s weird. Inside a box? Is it a dead cat or is it alive.”

“I don’t know.” Jonas said.

“If the cat’s tail is sticking out of the box,” Iris said, “just pull it. That’ll tell you fast enough if the cat is dead or alive.”

“What if, pulling the cat’s tail detonates a bomb or causes poison to be released into the room?” Jonas said.

“If they wanted you dead, you be dead already,” Iris Vandertrout, the former celebrity said. “Pull the cat’s tail already.”

Jonas looked at the cat’s tail sticking out of the box.

I don’t even know this woman and she’s already telling me what to do, he thought.

“Don’t think about it,” Iris Vandertrout said, “just pull the cat’s tail.”

“Okay, okay,” Jonas said and took hold of the cat’s tail and tugged, gently at first, and then when nothing happened, a bit more forcefully. “Jesus H Holy Moly!” he said.

“What? What?!” Iris said.

“It came off in my hand,” Jonas said.

“The tail came off in your hand?!” Iris said. “Then the cat’s dead obviously.”

“If there is actually a cat in the box,” Jonas said and reached down and ripped open the cardboard box.“Fuck Schrödinger!” Jonas said.

“Why fuck Schrödinger?!” Iris said.

“The box was empty,” Jonas said.

“I don’t think that’s Schrödinger’s fault,” Iris said.

“There was never a cat,” Jonas said. “I just thought there was a cat, because they tricked me into thinking there was cat.”

“So what’s your point?” Iris asked.

“Maybe there’s no you,” Jonas said.

“Oh there’s a me alright,” Iris said.

“Maybe they just want me to think there’s a you,” Jonas said “to see what I’ll do.”

“Oh there’s a me,” Iris said. “So are you coming to get me or what?”

“I don’t know where you are,” Jonas said.

“Do you have a cell phone still?” Iris asked.

“I do,” Jonas said.“Maybe, you can use your cellphone to track me,” Iris said. “If the satellites are still working then the cellphones are probably working and you can use your phone to track mine, so give me your number...”

And with that, the lights in the trailer house flickered and then died, as did the CB radio.