Every day the bottom fell out. It slipped under Wendy Corduroy while she read short stories, by women, for women. Women who missed their mothers and hated their husbands. Women who wrote of how bad things were in their countries. How much worse they were in others. They wrote about turning into birds, and their kids turning into birds.
But Wendy had no husband or mother. She'd been born in the woods, and never became a bird or had kids. She was like a motel with a vacancy sign hung. Dangling on a nail. She thought people saw it in her eyes.
They took a road through the forest. It was early summer and the sunset matched the redwoods. Soos, a big, soft-faced man, skipped another CD track. He was almost asleep behind the wheel. His head nodded forward, and saliva dribbled down his tuxedo shirt. The air conditioner was dead, the windows were down. Wendy leaned her cheek on her knuckles, her black dress falling from her shoulders. The air felt good. It fanned her long hair, a mess of red. They'd been silent as the CD played. Soos caught a sign passing by them but missed the words. Either way, they were close to home.
"That's messed up, what happened, dude," he said. "Dunno what I'm gonna do without those kids."
"Yup," said Wendy. "And we're out of work."
"Ouch. Like. Wendy, that's kinda harsh."
"Eh." She shrugged. The wind rose and she closed her eyes against it. "Only knew em for a day. World's a cruel, fucked up place. Ugh, feel bad for Stan, but we got problems, too, ya know? Now Dad's gonna grill me about going to my cousin's stupid lumber yard."
"Still, dude. Geesh."
"You gonna ride my ass now, too?!" Now she hung further out the window, the breeze furious in its assault. They were silent, and Soos said after a slow, lurching turn, "He's a rough customer, huh?"
She was back inside now. "You have NO idea. When he's mad, he goes ballistic. He can't just fucking talk."
"Whoa. You're, like, shaking, dude. You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm cool. That's me, Cool."
"You need, like a vacation from being you."
"Yeah. That's the dumbest shit you've ever said." They laughed.
"Ah, good laugh, good laugh," said Soos. "So."
"So."
"So. Ya know how Stan would say I'd work at the Shack my whole life?"
"Uh-huh."
"I think he's psychic or something. He, like, left me the keys."
"Dude. Serious?"
"Serious. Right after they put those kids in the ground, poof! Slapped em into my hand and took off. To ride into the sunset. A modern-day desperado."
"What about, like, deeds and stuff?"
"Oh, uh, dunno! Maybe at the Shack?"
"Dude! You're a small business owner. Nice."
Huh! Guess I am! My first decree as owner: free pizza for all employees!"
"Nice. I'm hired, right? I wanna raise."
"Checkmate!"
"What?"
"You know. I raise your check, mate."
"That's, like, poker. It's not the same. You can pay me, right?"
"Patience, Wendy, patience. All will be answered soon."
"I mean it, dude. I totally need this," and Wendy gripped the door with white knuckles. Another hand shot to the peeling roof.
Soos threw the wheel sideways, swerving around a hideous rabbit that had hopped into the road. The car pivoted down the center line. When Soos got control of the car, they both saw it in the rearview mirror. The rabbit was still on the median, its bulging eyes fixed toward the way they'd come.
#
Smoke rose over Soos's shoulders. He was under the hood, pouring water into the radiator. He worked and grunted and swore, and the woods were quiet. It was late. Wendy rolled in the backseat, struggling out of the dress. Her long, thin limbs, one by one, flailed into her flannel and jeans. The sun was fast setting. Mt Hood darkened and soon would be a monolith. Wendy watched Soos. Oil had pooled at his feet.
"Yeah," said Wendy. "I'm gonna hike. Keys?"
"Huh?" Soos made to stand but forgot the hood above him. The collision jostled the mop handle he'd used to prop up the hood free. It fell inches from his nose, slamming over the engine.
"Dude! I almost died!" he said, and tossed her an overstuffed keychain.
"Woot woot! Late."
"Be careful of, like, manotaurs and stuff."
"Uh-huh."
She might have followed the highway into town, but a mile or so remained, and another two across to her house. Instead, she cut into the forest. It was cool and less silent than the road, and she welcomed the sound of her steps over grass and twigs. She had no fear of these woods, especially now. It was easy walking, and she'd made the clearing and the Shack in an hour. After minutes of trying keys, one opened the gift shop. But the door resisted. When Wendy heaved against it something inside dragged across the floor.
A magazine rack lay on its side, spreading its contents. This she stepped over and into further destruction. "Whoa. That's gonna hit our overhead." It was dark now and she fumbled for a light. But the nonstop drag back from California hit her. She felt her way to the back room and threw herself into the chair, sleeping before the dead TV.
#
A voice awoke her. She lifted her head like a prey animal and sighed.
"Dude! Did a bear get in here!" said Soos from the gift shop.
"I know, right!." said Wendy. She joined him. Soos had the lights on, illuminating overturned junk.
"Was the door open or something?"
"Nope. Stan trashed it. Not like anyone bought this crap."
She disappeared into the museum. "Dude, it's jacked in here, too!"
"Yeah. I'm thinking of turning this place into a laser tag arena."
Wendy's head struck out from the door frame. "That. Would be dope."
"Or maybe a bowling alley. No! A laser bowling alley."
And now from the living room. "Woot woot! You think Stan kept a stash around?"
"A stash of what?"
"Hash!"
"Ha. A hash stash."
Soos surveyed the shop but made no effort to clean, and Wendy's voice drew him to the back office. "No fucking way," she said.
He found her crouched at the big safe. She pointed to a sticky note left on the safe door. With a few turns of the knob, she was inside. She pulled out a can of shaving cream and a stack of old Penthouse magazines. Now she held a snub-nosed revolver and looked to Soos.
"Dude," she said.
"Dude," agreed Soos.
All this they put on the desk. Wendy rolled her last joint and they closed the office door and smoked. Soon they were feeling better.
"How's he keep this place open," said Wendy, leaning in the tattered swivel chair.
Soos had pulled a barrel up to the other side of the desk. He leaned on his elbows.
"No clue. I always thought he was secretly Batman or something."
"Whaa, that's stupid. I bet he's a meth lord." She leaned in her chair, took a long drag, and passed the joint to Soos. "If I was a meth lord, I'd wear a fez, too."
"Wouldn't you be a meth lady?"
"Eh. I'm meth fluid. Pass it back, dude."
"Oh, yeah. You want to go look for a mystery or something?" choked Soos. Wendy rolled her eyes, taking a long drag and coughing.
"Only mystery around here is why my dad stopped loving me. Ha ha."
"I don't think even the Pines could have solved that. You know, dude?"
"Yeah. I know... I fucking hate you sometimes. Really." She choked and gagged. "Soooos. I'm so hungry."
"We could go to Wendy's. I haven't eaten anything else in weeks!"
"Whuuuuu..."
"Yeah, it's like a problem. Like, you don't wanna know some of the stuff I've seen come out of-"
"Soos, just fucking get something."
"Onward!"
Soos headed into the night on foot, hunger overtaking exhaustion. Wendy called her boyfriend Robbie. "Yo, we're taking over Stan's meth lab."
"Huh?" said Robbie on the line. A muddled electric guitar, unplugged, sounded in the background.
"Get over here. Bring your bowl."
Soon Robbie was stalking around the Shack, hands on hips. "Tch. This ain't a cook site."
"How would you know?" said Wendy.
"Cause I've seen one..." he said.
"On the news, jackass."
"Same difference. He prolly just blew all his retirement on this dump."
Wendy looked around, contemplating, arms crossed. "Nnnah. It's a meth lab."
"Whatever."
They smoked and fondled on Stan's couch. Wendy's phone rang. She broke away from Robbie to answer. "Fuck off a minute, it's Soos."
"The hell's he want?"
"He's getting food."
"Awesome. I want a Baconator."
"Hey, Soos. Robbie, okay!"
"Ok, so," said Soos, "I got here and I realized! You got, like, the same name as this place and stuff! Ha ha. Wait. Are you the Wendy?"
Robbie grappled with Wendy. She dropped her phone. Soos's voice was almost inaudible from the floor.
"Wendy. Whaddya want? Wendy. Whaddya want? Hey Wendy? I'm, like, at the counter. Hey Wendy. Wendy. Wendy."
Wendy broke from Robbie's arms and snatched the phone. Robbie pulled her back onto the couch, arms around her waist.
"Come on, man! Soos. Bring, like, a Baconator. And whatever. I don't care." Robbie lay over her, pushing her into the couch and kissing her with force. Soos spoke from Wendy's hand, his voice reaching no one.
"Oh. I'm not good with big decisions and stuff. Guess I'll get everything on the menu."
Soos returned, bearing armloads of white bags. Robbie by then had passed out on the couch and nothing, not even food, could rouse him, but Wendy ate with fervor. Now she looked sick. She and Soos sat on the floor, the meal spread out between them.
"Robbie. Hey. Take me home.
"Huh? What, babe?" he said, his face in the cushions.
Wendy had taken off her flannel. Two pale and scarred arms sprouted from her t-shirt.
"You cutting yourself again?" said Soos, burger falling from his mouth.
"Fuck off, Soos. Robbie. Robbieeee."
"I used to think you got those by, like, running away from a jackalope or Bigfoot or something. Pretty funny, huh!"
"Yeah, Soos... You ever get tired of being a lardy tub of shit? Like, really?"
"That's low, dude."
"I fucking hate you sometimes." Wendy stood with effort, her eyes red and tired. "You know what? I quit. Where's my week's pay?"
"Um. I didn't foresee such a strange turn of events."
"Yeah. Lame. I'm out."
She left, leading Robbie by an arm. Alone on the floor, Soos sighed.
"Some things...even Soos can't fix. Guess this is why Stan was always so angry. But I kinda just feel sad. And still hungry!"
He checked the break room fridge, finding a half-eaten pizza from the last work week. Soos smirked, his head inside the fridge.
"And they said free pizza was only a dream."
#
Soos, squinting an eye, peered through his pyramid of cards. He'd stacked them throughout the morning. The gift shop door swung open and Wendy breezed inside. The cards collapsed.
"Dude," said Wendy. "Looks good in here."
"Yo! Thought you'd quit and stuff!"
She shrugged, vaulted over the counter and motioned Soos to move. He stood, and she threw into the chair, opening a magazine before her face. "Eh, I say a lot of shit." She crossed her legs on the counter. The phone there rang, and Soos at once answered.
"Mystery Shack! Where..."
A voice interrupted him. "Soos? Soos!"
"That's me! How'd ya know?"
"Shut the hell up, ya ape. Listen. Soos, they - I owe some very bad people a lot of money. I need ya to come to Vegas. With cash, Soos."
"Stan?"
"Yes! Stan! Idiot!"
Soos cupped the receiver and said to Wendy, "Dude, Stan's crank calling us."
"Nice," she said behind her magazine.
He removed his hand. "Huh huh, sure thing, dude. Hang in there." Soos winked.
"Yo, Stan the man!" said Wendy, not looking up from her magazine.
The voice faltered. "Oh. Oh, thank god. Listen, hurry up, Soos. I gotta- bye." He'd hung up.
Soos returned the phone to the counter. "Stan's a true master of mischief."
"Uh huh. We sell pregnancy tests here?"
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing."
An hour passed. "Yo," said Wendy behind the counter. "Gonna take off. Soos? Heading to the pool. You need me?" No answer came, and she didn't wait for one, closing the magazine. She opened the gift shop door as he pushed it. Gideon stared up with a start.
"H-hey, Wendy."
"Whoa. Hey, lil dude."
"Can I, uh, come in?"
"I mean, yeah, it's a shop." She stepped aside and Gideon crept in, looking around as if for danger. He fidgeted with stubs too short to be fingers. Wendy paused at the door, hoping he might lose his nerve and leave. But he lingered by the counter, pawing at cheap jewelry. Wendy shut the door and rolled over the counter, first onto her back, so she lay across the top briefly. She lurched over the side, landing hard on her feet. She slapped her hands on the counter, leaning toward him.
"So."
"So. So?"
A pause.
"Sorry Dad didn't come to the funeral. He didn't think anyone would wanna see him."
Wendy shrugged. "I went for Stan. How's Bud doing?"
"Not good. Thought something from Mr. Pines's shop might cheer him up."
"Well, we got these dodo toys." She waved the plastic toy around in her outstretched hand.
The boy shrugged. "Eh, maybe not that."
"Come on man, I gotta push these things." Gideon reached for the toy, but Wendy snatched it away. "I'm just givin' ya a hard time, man. Try these, they're like dumb ass Thomas Kinkaid postcards."
"He might like those." He bought the card and was leaving, but he stopped in the doorway. "Wendy. You think they, uh, were in pain?"
"Nah, man. I'd wanna go out that way. Instant, ya know?"
"Ok." And then he was gone. But Wendy didn't want to go that way, dragged the block between two intersections under a 1970 Cadillac Coupe DeVille and indistinguishable from the wreck of a 1993 Yamaha G9 white golf cart.
She shivered and found Soos, who was at the computer in the break room. "Hey, Wendy, I been playing this dating Sim. I'm gonna talk to women!"
"Cool. I'm taking off. Got my money?"
Soos cracked open his wallet, handing her whatever bills he had without counting. Wendy thumbed through them and raised her brows but didn't correct him.
She walked home, alone beneath the dark trees, that went on and on beneath a pinkish sky. She usually watched for bears or moose, but tonight she slipped into numbness. Her dad sat watching TV, his back to the front door. The news stretched a long shadow of the chair and his head past her legs.
"Got a raise at work," said Wendy.
"Uh-huh. Bring me a beer. From the fridge."
She had no energy to argue. "Gideon came by the shop," she said, handing him the beer.
"I'm watching TV."
"Yeah. Nite."
She lay on her back in bed, still dressed, sneaking the last hit out of the stash. But she regretted it now, as the shadows crawled the walls with minds of their own. Till morning they danced and accused, making childish, familiar shapes.
#
It was several hours passed opening when she called in. "Yo, Soos. I got stuff going on. See ya tomorrow?" Without an answer, she hung up and dialed Robbie. They rode his dirt bike behind her house, till the engine blew out. Robbie labored over the bike for a long time.
"You don't know what you're doing," said Wendy. "It sounds like..."
"Yeah, I do," he said over his shoulder.
"Okay. Men not listening to me. Novel."
"You say something?"
She folded her arms, taking in the woods. She let her eyes lose focus in the canopy.
"How'd you want to die?"
"I dunno. I guess surrounded by family and shit."
"I'd wanna be alone. Alone that whole day. Like when a sick cat runs away."
"Think we're walking back, babe."
They pushed the bike to her house and abandoned it there, and Robbie drove them to his band practice. Wendy sat in Robbie's garage and played on her phone. No one gave her an instrument. They ignored her when she offered her own song. And now she felt like going to work, after all. No one saw her leave.
Though the Shack was open, Soos hadn't unlocked the doors. Wendy knocked and he let her inside. "Better late than never," he said.
"Heyyy. Did ya miss me?" she asked, crashing into the couch in the living room.
"You have no idea," said Soos, wiping crumbs off his face with his bare hands.
"Hey, man. You wanna do something really cool for me?"
"Anything for you, Wendy!"
"Nice. Buy me some beer?"
"Oh. I dunno, dude."
"It's fine, man. This place isn't bringing in any cash, so you can pay me with beer. That sounds fair."
"Hmm. You'll drink it responsibly and stuff?"
"Totally. Like an adult." She flicked a finger gun at him.
And four beers into the evening, she floored Soos's truck. It hit impressive speed under her command, tearing several laps around the Shack. She threw them into a donut. When the spinning stopped, Soos fell from the passenger door. Wendy whooped behind the wheel.
"Whoo! That's what I call a hole. In. One!"
"Yeah, huh huh," said Soos, standing and wiping his hands on his legs. "Guess that makes some kind of sense. I'm gonna need new shorts. So. You're kinda crazy when you're drunk."
"That's nothing. I no joke blackout drink all the time."
"Oh."
Wendy produced an eighth and waved the baggy in her hand over the passenger side seat. "You wanna get high on my roof? Dad's fishing with the buds."
"I see literally no reason to say no."
Soos drove now. When they reached Wendy's house they climbed a ladder and lay on the slanted roof, their feet on the gutter.
Wendy said, "Oh my god, Soos. Am I marrying my dad? Soooos?"
"Wait. You're marrying your dad? Check please!"
"Soos. You're like, the loneliest, saddest guy I know. You should find a girlfriend. Move out of this shitty town, like...just go for it..."
"Huh. You really think so? What if they don't like me?"
She rolled to face him, leaning on her elbow and pointing at him. "Dude. You. Are the man."
"Heh heh, yeah. Lonely at the top."
They lay a while longer, looking at the stars.
Several loud knocks came below. Robbie yelled, "Yo, Wendy! You home? Come on, man..."
Wendy stood, grabbing Soos's hand to balance herself, and peered over the porch. "What the hell, Robbie. I want to be alone."
Robbie backed up, seeing Soos. "Ah, gimme a fucking break!" He found the ladder and climbed, saying as he found his footing. "You don't look alone to me. The hell is he doing here?"
"Smoking a blunt with me. He's cool."
"Where's my hit?" Robbie snatched the blunt from Wendy, taking a long drag, and not handing it back. He turned to Soos. "Get lost, creep." He stuck a finger in Soos's chest. "Or I'll make you get lost. Huh."
Soos stood, hands on his hips. "You and what army?"
Wendy tugged Robbie's jacket, wrestling him. "Robbie, knock it off."
"What the fuck?" said Robbie. "This is my favorite jacket."
"I think you need to leave her alone," said Soos.
"Or what? She's my girl, not yours, freak. So back off!" Robbie tried shoving him, but Soos was a mountain.
"Looks like my gluttonous binge eating paid off," said Soos, smirking and crossing his arms.
"Wendy will never love you. She'll never even like you, cause you're a fat old creep."
"No!"
"Robbie, shut up!" said Wendy.
"She only hangs out with you cause she pities you."
"Noo!"
Soos raised his hands to his ears, shaking his head. His elbow clocked Robbie in the mouth, who slipped off his feet. He fell backward, reaching for Soos's, but either Soos's reflexes or his conscience failed him. He shied away from Robbie's grasp as if some monster had reached for him. Robbie flailed and screamed over the edge, till his voice cracked on a high note and silenced. Wendy tore at her hair.
"Oh, fuck!"
"What a twist!" said Soos, raising chubby fingers to his mouth.
Wendy, crawling backwards toward the ladder, slipped down it, almost falling halfway. Robbie had missed the rotting recliner that sat there abandoned. But his limbs sprawled around him.
"You killed him!" said Wendy.
Soos inched down the ladder after her. "Actually, it's the ground that killed him," he said.
"What happened, babe," said Robbie, eyes distant. "My leg. Fell on my leg."
Wendy, on hands and knees next to Robbie, pushed at his shoulder. She hung her head between her arms and pushed and sobbed. "Robbie. Get up, man. Getup." She was very high now, and the effect deepened the horror. The moments dragged and jerked, seconds lost between. "We gotta get you to ER."
"Guy was being a jerk, anyway," said Soos, as though it might absolve him. He poked his index fingers into each other and fidgeted. He rocked side to side, a little dance, on his knees. "He, uh... He okay, Wendy?"
She didn't hear him and saw herself from above. A nasty pale rabbit crawled from the woods, its eyes wide enough to fall out. It watched the scene, and she watched it watching them. She pulled Robbie's arm. With her help, he tried putting weight on the leg. "Agh! I can't!" And he slumped against the seat.
"I can carry him," said Soos. But Wendy shoved him, kneeled, and let Robbie onto her back.
#
The hair dryer felt good, blowing the last loose strands from her hair. Red covered the sink, over a foot of the stuff. The lights went off, and she heard the AC die overhead. "Oh my fucking god," came her voice from the dark. It was a hot afternoon and hotter inside. Soos checked the breaker, but it was useless. The city had shut off the power. The two convened outside.
"Yeah," said Soos, "I can't really afford the electric bill. It's pretty high, prolly cause those Christmas lights are always on."
"Fuck this. Headin' to the pool."
"I'll get my trunks!"
Soos didn't visit the Shack again till next week. He was busy with a World of Warcraft update. He found tape across the door and a notice posted he didn't like the look of. Peeling it off, he slipped inside. It was dark and hot. He shuffled through beer cans and fast food wrappers. He lit candles, opened the windows, and called Wendy.
Autumn was coming on and it wasn't as bad inside.
"What'd you bring in?" said Soos, counting a crumpled stack of bills.
"Eh, that whole second job thing didn't pan out," said Wendy. "Uh. I got a twenty."
Soos wrestled with the math in his head. "So...120."
"Laaaaame."
"I mean."
"Laaaaame."
"Wendy, this is far from productive."
"Yeah? Well...what if I keep saying it?"
"Huh, the innocence of youth. I guess I already take money from Gramma for snacks, and this is like a big snack."
"However you wanna justify it."
"Man. Life was easier when Stan worried about all this stuff."
"Okay, so we gotta think like Stan. He'd steal power from someone."
"Maybe I can, like, ask the power people for an extension or something."
"Ah, forget it, man, they'll never listen," said Wendy. "What was that about a generator? We'll make our own juice if they don't wanna give us any."
"It must be done," said Soos, slamming a fist into his palm. "To Gramma's!"
Soos dragged the TV to the front porch and plugged it into the generator. The machine was loud, but they didn't want to be inside. Only the news came through, an anchorman made of static. They smoked and watched the static, and Wendy punched Soos's arm.
"You, uh, seen the new Marvel movie?" said Soos.
"Nah," she said, blowing smoke from her mouth. She tried to make a circle.
"It's got Black Knight in it. But only a true fan would know him."
"Whatever, dude. Bet you had to look him up on your phone." Now she tossed the butt in the dirt, wound up a punch, and loosed her arm into Soos's gut with force. It downed him, and he lay a long time in front of the TV.
By night, they'd switched the TV for Soos's laptop and watched video game speed runs. "We could do that," said Wendy.
"No way, dude, these guys are pros!"
"Wuut. We could totally do that."
"No offense, Wendy, but you're-"
"What? A fucking girl?"
"Uh. I was gonna say scrub."
"I'd kick his time's ass," she said, chugging a beer from the fridge.
"Hmm. I did spend most of my childhood playing Super Mario Bros. He was like my second dad. In fact, he mighta been my first dad!"
"Dude, I know you have an NES."
"And controllers, and a CRTV, and it's already on in the break room."
Wendy performed well on the first level but quit after several deaths. Soos fared better but was still minutes behind a world record. Wendy tossed her controller.
"Eh, fuck this one. I played way more Cool Boarders growing up."
That record also failed to fall. They blew through two Metroid games and had hope for Doom before resigning. Soos shrugged.
"Dude we kinda suck at, like, every game we played."
"Man it's 3 am and I'm jacked as fuck. I'm gonna speedrun rolling a joint, if you wanna hit."
Summer, remembering to end, trailed off late into the season. Wendy never knew what Soos did for money. He lived in the Shack without power or water and lived there still. His grandma's generator supplied with gas, groaning on the porch.
#
She came to on her back, arms crossed behind her head and eyes full of heavy wonder. "You ever just...look up at the stars and think...wow, there's a lot of em? And we're, like, never stopping to enjoy shit."
Soos's fat arm raised above her, aiming a remote toward the stars. David Attenborough's voice raised a decibel. "Space remains a mystery to us. A terror, but never do we cease reaching..."
Wendy struggled up from the blankets and fell against the wall. The RV was at a slant, its tires deflated on one side. This discrepancy was enough to send her exhausted body sideways. Soos burped. "This projector was the best eighty bucks ever," he said. Attenborough's face, and then a galaxy overlapped Wendy's face as she stumbled toward the door.
She leaned against the RV, staring at her house. At a little window over her dad's bed. She closed her eyes and smiled, a vivid fantasy playing under the lids. Her hands crept up her shirt, over her chest, and across her collarbone. Up her neck and over her face. It was numb and tingled. She still felt the handle in her hand and thought she'd never forget it.
"I dunno if I can just skip town, dude," Soos had said. It was black in the museum, except for a candle between them. Wendy spun the snub nose in the flickering light. "Like, who's gonna take care of my Tamagotchi?" said Soos. "I have responsibilities."
"What've we got? No power, no food, no coffee, no hope."
"Wendy, listen. I know I'm a big dummy, and a little bit of a creep, but I know one thing. You're, like, the coolest person I ever knew. I mean, you got your life ahead of you and stuff."
"I don't care. I hate everything here."
"Yeah you do care, dude, or we wouldn't be talking about it. You'd, like, just disappear one day. And I'd be like, 'Where's Wendy? Man, she sure is late.' I'd figure it out after a few months."
"More like a year. Dork."
"I'm gonna grab some beers from the fridge and think of something really wise and stuff to say, and you're gonna be like, 'Hey, I wish I'd thought of that, to, like, tell myself!'"
Soos pushed himself from the table, went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. As he shut it, he thought he must have slammed it extra hard, because it made a shocking crack. He bolted up and hurried back to the shop floor with the beers. The gun smoked in Wendy's hand. A bullet had lodged somewhere in the wall.
"Holy crap!" said Soos. "Whoops, didn't think it was loaded. Guess I should of taken it away from ya. Ha ha."
"Pshh!" said Wendy, spinning the gun on her finger by the trigger guard. "I'm a crack shot. Picked it up from Dad." The gun fired again as it spun. Soos leaped into her. They tossed on the floor. The gun fired, again into the dark, and something heavy shattered. Soos maneuvered onto her back and sat there, pinning her.
"Ugh! Soos, get the fuck off!"
"Huh, sure Wendy. If you say you wanna live."
"I wanna breathe."
"Hmm. That's tangential to living. It's a deal!"
He slumped off, the movement crushing her. "Man, that's, what, the fifth time I've had to do that?"
A long time passed in the dark. Neither moved but sat, their backs to the wall.
"You didn't kill those kids, dude," said Soos.
Silence, and then, "I gave him the fucking key."
"Causation does not equal correlation," said Soos, and she imagined him waving his hands like a mystic.
"The fuck does that even mean, Soos?"
"Wendy, I didn't wanna havta do this but you're, like, fired and stuff," said Soos.
"Whoa. You serious?"
"Yeah, heh heh, guess so. You're kind of a bad worker. And like, bad for my mental health and stuff."
"Eh, you'd figure it out eventually."
"Hey, uh, you gonna be alright?"
She was not alright, but Soos, work and weed couldn't distract her from it now. So she walked, leaving Soos to his projector, till she was on Main Street.
She crossed the intersection, the one by Skull Fracture. No bouncer or bikes out front. The same argument in her head, one she was yet to win. Ration didn't stop the nightmares or her trouble with mirrors. She never thought to write a story about missing her mom or the smell of her grandmother's cooking. Neglected housewives had words to express that kind of sorrow, and she didn't.
By five pm the town grew still and quiet, its inhabitants already turned in for tomorrow. It was dark in the mountains. Sometimes the power went out on windy nights and it was darker than closing one's eyes or sitting in a lightless room. It was a blackness with true and unknowable depth. Until a straggler broke the spell she would be the last person on earth. Barren, uninhabited moments. A sick calm fell over her, the same opioid warmth as thoughts of oblivion brought. Every day the bottom fell out.
Yet tonight, in mythless, mundane Gravity Falls, population nil, plus one Wendy, the waking world faltered. A white rabbit came to torment her, hopping from the bushes, crossing the street with indifference and sitting at her feet. An eye opened in Wendy's mind. There in the empty intersection it formed from yellow streetlights, dead stars and the red eyed rabbit. It reached out to shake her hand. She needed only take it and make a deal.