Straight Loop

She had been wanting to explore the metro park near their apartment for months. But she was tired of begging him for things that shouldn’t require any begging at all. She was tired of feeling completely ignored, while she went along with all the things he wanted to do. She thought he would somehow turn out different than the others

She would just have to go alone, like she did with so many other things. She didn’t mind doing things alone. In fact, she sometimes preferred it. But since she preferred her summer walks in the evening, she thought it would be safer to not go alone. Plus, it would have been nice to have some company. And maybe actually have a conversation for once.

She had grown tired of asking him. Then became tired of hinting. Then stopped mentioning it all together, as he did with the zoo, the art museum, and camping. She had simply stopped trying. Or, caring. Now, that made two of them. Yet, somehow, they were still together. Because it was easier that way. Was she really asking for that much?

So, when he finally asked if she wanted to take that walk, she was both pleasantly surprised., but also a tad bit disappointed. She had gotten to the point when she didn’t want him doing nice things for her anymore. She was the past the point of wanting him give her any more reason to stay together.

That was just the thing about relationships. Just when you are ready to throw in the towel, your partner does something to restore the other’s faith. But she knew more than anyone that traveling down this road only lead to a letdown. If only experience could teach her to avoid falling for it again and again. Yet here she was, still orbiting the same endless loop.

It was a muggy, midsummer evening when they pulled into the ‘North’ parking lot adjacent to the Huron River that winded through the park like a serpent. The evening sun was still hot and bright, despite his assurance that it wouldn’t be an issue. And she could already tell his heart wasn’t in it and was coasting on the sense that he was simply doing her a favor.

They located a map to get a sense of the trail they were about to embark on. She was never great with maps, so took his word for it when he determined it was a 5k loop. She should have known better than not to double check. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have made much sense of it.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, annoyed, as though he had never been wrong before. The problem with guys like him is that their over-confidence is infectious – a variation on the theme of gaslighting. How many red flags can one man carry? Gaslighting and narcissism were just the tip of the iceberg. Then there was the matter of his incessant whining.

“But to be perfectly honest,” he began, “I would prefer not to walk that far.”

“It isn’t that far,” she said, knowing all too well it as a losing argument.

“Okay, fine,” he said. Passive aggressiveness as yet another flag.

They set forth upon the trail – the first stretch of which ran parallel along the river, before cutting through a beautifully lit meadow.

They walked mostly in silence, which was modus operandi for any activity they did together. And it was only getting worse, with the resentment exponentially growing in volume. They both seemed resigned to the fact that speaking only lead to arguments. Like so many other relationships she endured, mutual silence was a co-existence coping mechanism. At least they were doing it in nature, rather than their cramped apartment that both had stopped bothering to clean. The only difference, there was no television to use as a protective shield.

They each walked together isolation, lost in their own thoughts, first side by side, before he pulled ahead in his usual fashion, as though she didn’t exist at all.

The trail eventually disappeared into a deeply wooded area, which prompted the only conversation they had:

“This would be a perfect place for a murderer to hide,” she said, breaking a prolonged silence.

“There are no murderers in this park,” he countered in his usual fashion.

“How do you know?”

“We would have heard about it.”

“Even if it hasn’t happened, it doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”

“You listen to too many true crime podcasts.”

And that is where the conversation began…and ended.

Of course, she was always asking him to listen to those podcasts with her in the car, but he would insist on putting on his shitty classic rock (not the good stuff).

Eventually, the trail emerged out of the woods and joined the river again before they returned full circle. Darkness had almost completely set.

“Where is our car?” she asked.

Their car appeared to be gone!

But then she noticed something: They were standing in the “South” lot. She specifically remembered that they parked in the ‘North’ lot. She had made a mental note of it…just in case.

It was never a loop. They simply went from north south.

“How is this possible?” he asked.

“Is it possible you read the map wrong?”

“There’s no way.”

They located another map.  It turned out, there was a loop, but it involved cutting through a smaller, intersecting dirt trail that they had completed overlooked.

“So, I wasn’t wrong,” he said. “We just didn’t take the right path.”

“Well, looks like we’re walking all the way back.”

“No fucking way,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t have worn this shirt and these shorts if I knew I would be walking this far. Or, these shoes. I’m getting blisters.”

“Well, who’s fault is that?”

“I didn’t even want to do the whole thing to begin with. And now you are asking me to do twice as much!”

“What choice do we have?”

“Let’s Uber it,” he said taking out his phone. “Shit. I have no signal.”

“We’re not going to Uber it.”

“Now let’s go. The park is about to close.”

“More reason to call for a ride!”

“It’s not that far.”

“Feel free to walk back if you want. I’ll wait for you”

“There’s no way I’m going to walk back alone in the dark.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s almost dark and the park is about to close. You want me to get murdered?”

“Not that again.”

He finally gets into his app, then realizes his credit card isn’t up to date. He reaches for his wallet, then realizes he left it in the car.

“Well, it looks like we’re walking.”

He begrudgingly gave in. Then again, what choice did he have?

“Can you slow down?” he whined. “My feet are killing me!”

“We need to hurry. The park closes in 10 minutes!”

He caught up with her.

“Look on the bright side!” she said. “You always say you want to exercise more. Think of how great you will feel afterward!”

“And how sore I’ll be tomorrow.”

“It’s a good pain. Just be sure to stretch.”

“Also, walking faster will make it harder for a killer to catch us.”

“There. Is. No killer.”

Just then, a cop car rolled by.

“See!” he said, surging with cocksureness. “Look how safe! And even if there was a killer, chances are, he—”

“Or, she – ”

“Or, she, he/she would surely catch us.”

“I would try to out run them.”

“There’s no way.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“No. Not just because of that. It depends on how fast the killer is. How fast you are. Lots of variables. But statistically speaking, you would probably be slower than a killer.”

“Because I’m a woman.”

“Because you aren’t known for your speed.”

“How do you know?”

“I never really saw you run.”

“I ran track in high school, remember?”

“You ran track?”

“I won meets. Short distance. I know I told you this before, but you probably weren’t listening.”

“I always listen. And I wouldn’t forget something like that.”

“Sure…”

“Just so we’re clear, if the killer gets me, just keep running. Don’t try to be a hero.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. But since you seem to be sure, we probably should have wave that cop down. If only to get a ride back out of it.”

“Just drop it,” she said, as they entered the dark patch of woods. It was like being swallowed by a dark pit. She quickly tried to stop thinking about every true crime podcast running through her head.

Her heart jumped into her throat as the sound of something rustling just off the trail exponentially escalated her growing fear.

“It’s just an animal,’ he said with one last bout of false confidence. “Probably a chipmunk.”

And then something appeared in front of them on the path.

Someone.

They both screamed.

“Run!” he shouted.

They both took off in opposite directions, forcing the killer to choose the slower of the two: her boyfriend.

She considered turning around to help him, then remembered his words: “If the killer gets me, just keep running. Don’t try to be a hero.”

And so she did.

Despite the agonizing screams she heard behind her, she couldn’t help but smile in relief.

She had already made up her mind that she was going to break up with him anyway.

It was much easier this way.

And then there was silence.