Dead Ringer

The wind tore at the tent, pushing and pulling at the thin vinyl walls that were Michelle's only shelter from the crisp autumn night. The snapping and popping of the fabric reminded her of fishing in her father's boat, when she was just a girl. Whenever she caught a fish, she would pull it in and set it on the floor of the boat, for her father to remove the hook. Before he could get ahold of them, they would always flop around violently, their wet, scaly bodies smacking and scraping on the boat's metal frame. The sound of the wind going at the tent was somehow similar - a rapid, rhythmic thumping.

Michelle squirmed her way deeper into her sleeping bag, and squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to sleep. Normally, the fluttering tent, the howling wind and the nipping bite of a cool night would merge to produce a perfect storm in which Michelle had no choice BUT to sleep. Tonight was different however - each component of this mystical spell of sleep, that mother nature had cast upon her so many times past, seemed somehow abnormal. It was not peaceful or relaxing, as it should be - no, instead the wind seemed to carry with it something unnatural, something menacing. Michelle did not feel safe.

It did not help, of course, that she was presently alone. She did her best to tell herself that this was the cause of her current state of fear. "It's only the wind," she whispered into the warm fleece of her sleeping bag. "Just the regular, windy wind."

She opened her eyes and looked over towards the mesh net that hung from the side of the tent, cradling her cellphone, her keys, some loose change. The phone was what had drawn her eye. "Where could he be," Michelle asked herself. "It's been ten minutes. How long does it take to go to the bathroom?" Chris had said he had to pee, but maybe it had really been a number two.

She was considering calling him, but things like that always made Chris mad. She was afraid of her own skin, he would often say. He worked late nights, so Michelle was often left alone in their apartment. Sometimes she would call him at work, startled by some noise from outside of the bedroom. "It's the cat," he would always tell her - and he was always right, she supposed. But she was trying to toughen up, and even though she still got scared, she'd try to be rational and keep calm. Besides, she wasn't even sure he had his phone - after all, why would he take his phone out into the woods for a quick whiz? And how far could he have gone - shouldn't she be able to hear him?

Her gaze shifted to the other side of the tent, where Chris's backpack rested in the corner. Chris usually kept his phone in the side pouch when they went out into the woods, but from where she lie Michelle could not see if it was in there. She hesitated, pondering whether or not she was willing to shed her warm sleeping bag long enough to reach across the chilly interior of the tent and inspect the bag. She took a quick breath, and quickly sprung up and reached across the tent in one motion and snatched up the bag. She turned it around in her hands, rifling through both side pouches with nimble fingers. It wasn't there.

"Even out here," Michelle said to herself with a sigh. At home, Chris would never leave his phone alone with her, as she did have a bad habit of snooping through it whenever she could. "It has a pass lock on it for heaven's sake."

Michelle put the pack back down, grabbed her sweatshirt from beside her pillow and pulled it on, then reached into the cargo pocket to retrieve her own phone. As soon as she had her cell in hand, she snuggled back into the sleeping bag. She decided to give Chris a few more minutes, and then she would call him.

A few minutes came and went, and there was no sign of Chris. Michelle picked up her phone and hit the button, waking it from its slumber. The tent was alit in a soft, warm glow as she scanned through her contacts. She stopped on Chris Murphy - Occupation: Boyfriend. She hovered there a moment, swirling her thumb in circles in front of the touch screen, stalling for a minute or two. Finally, she tapped the screen, and brought the phone up to her ear.