Piggyback

PIGGYBACK

Venla Mäkelä

Copyright 2023 by Venla Mäkelä

Chapter 1

Brian

I needed a woman. Or I guess it could have been a guy, but all I could think in that moment of panic was I need a woman, someone small I can throw on my back and carry, someone spry and lightweight. Paula's announcement that afternoon had come out of the blue. A boulder from a clear sky. A bee in the car on a freeway. A barred window where you thought was an open door. The handle of a hot cast-iron skillet. I could go on.

We were on our favorite trail in the Elm Creek park, training for the games. I set the timer on my fitness tracker and said it was amazing how much faster we had become. We've never been this good!

Paula, stretching, grunted an answer, her palms flat against the ground. She was flexible like Gumby, I always admired that. I said, You know, unless Teemu and Lisa got faster, we'll beat them this year! Unless they trained with Usain Bolt or something, we really can beat them!

Right. Paula straightened up, flush-faced, already focused.

I crouched. All right here we go.

Paula jumped over my head and slid down, her stomach against my back, her thighs gripping my head. I stood straight, holding her legs. Even my fingers had muscles by now. All right?

Hit it.

I ran the path, carrying Paula. Veered off the beaten track to our own trail, leaping over logs and puddles. I felt confident, limber. Jumping over a tree trunk, then another. One more. It was a good run, full of obstacles. In about four minutes we got to a fork where our little path met the real trail and, out of breath, I stopped. I dropped Paula softly, checked my tracker. Awesome! I threw a high five. Wow! Not bad! Not bad!

Paula did not respond to the high five. I was confused. It took her a moment to be able to look me in the eye. And I sort of knew before she even said it.

I'm so sorry Brian. I can't do this anymore.

While I completely stopped breathing, she went on, I took that job in Vancouver. I'll move by the end of this week.

It felt like my ribs were caving in. Honestly I felt like crying. But... what? What!

I'm sorry.

But - there's only two weeks before the competition!

I won't be able to make it. At all. I'll be in Vancouver. I won't be able to travel.

But - we have flights and - and-

I bought mine with free cancellation, she said, as if it were obvious everyone always does that.

You knew this was coming but didn't tell me!

I'm sorry, I just signed the contract yesterday, didn't wanna jinx it. They want me there asap.

But... I can't believe this! I grabbed my hair. I can't believe this!

Paula got irritated. It's Canada, Brian! No one says no to Canada!

This is unbelievable!

Oh come on you're taking the stupid competition way too seriously!

Wow so now it's 'stupid?'

Brian you're acting like a toddler!

We went on arguing, walking back. A flock of birds shot in the air from the shrubbery. I was wailing, I was pathetic but I just couldn't help it. All this training for nothing! For nothing!

Sulking, we returned to the park parking lot and got in our cars, slamming the doors shut. I watched Paula's new black Volvo reverse and drive away. Her car was always goddamn spotless. She got a new lease every two years, because she once read that that's what Vera Wang does and she thought it was smart. But you lose so much money! Why do I remember this detail? I don't know. My old 2013 Hyundai didn't want to start. Farther away by the entrance gate the park ranger tapped her watch with a clownish, exaggerated move, closing time. She was irritated we were always leaving so late.

Yeah yeah yeah, I said, and finally my car started.

I have a nice house in Maple Grove, in a suburb of Minneapolis. After the divorce we sold our five bedroom house and I bought the first place I saw, it just happened to be a good one. Three bedrooms three baths, a home office and a good garage. Fifteen minutes to work. My daughter Asta, who's fourteen, a great kid, sat by the kitchen table eating breakfast when I came downstairs. I was still in a really terrible mood.

Asta glanced at me. Oh come on Dad. Honestly. How hard will it be to find another small woman?

Way harder than you think. Nearly impossible. I poured some coffee into my mug, pouting. This was the year we could have beaten uncle Teemu.

OMG you're so dramatic. She got up. Just go look for a woman, go to a gym or something. You'll find someone else.

Not only must she be small enough, she has to know how to cling just right.

The fact is, it's really quite awkward to carry a person after they are bigger than an otter. A human body is full of stick-like limbs and squishy bits. Feels like there are seven knee caps, somehow.

Asta clonked her bowl into the sink. You'll teach them, not a big deal.

I just feel completely crushed. We trained so hard, everything going perfectly! All year for nothing? I can't believe it.

Stop it! You're annoying. Just go find someone. She left for school.

I'm an engineer at a paper mill. Spend my days monitoring fluctuating graphics on the computer. Not that exciting but it pays well. From my work station, by a window, I can see the mill machinery in a massive hall. Actually it is sort of exciting I guess, now that I think of it. I don't hate it.

My colleague Susan walked by and I turned to look at her, secretly eyeing her size. She was in good shape, the way dog walkers and yoga people are. She had three dachshunds, and went paddle boarding in the summer. Tennis and golf, and I think downhill skiing. How much did she weigh? Would I be able to carry her and run? Would we get along? Would she get the sport, or think it was too strange? Oftentimes I'm too tired to explain it to people, they get weirded out, it sounds a bit primitive on paper, I get that.

When Susan was gone my workmate Matt pushed away from his desk and wheeled his chair a foot closer. You should not do that. That's so eighties.

I'm not - I wasn't-

You could get fired if they caught you.

I wasn't - not like that-

Here's what I do, Matt said and got up. He stopped in front of me and ran his hand through his strange waxy hair. Locks of it dangling in the front like fishing rods. He said, Let's pretend I'm you and you are the hot woman.

I didn't say she was hot - or that she isn't - she's smart and all that, a very nice smart woman- Because now I was worried that our conversation was taped, somehow, and broadcasted all over the plant, and later the whole world by some random malicious TikTok teenager.

Matt waved my worries away and sort of popped his eyes out. "I only look into their eyes. See? I'm staring hard into your eyes, making sure you know I'm absolutely not checking out your body but your soul." He stared at me with an intense, psychotic look. Disturbing, to put it mildly.

Okay, yeah okay...

"But - you send a message through your eyes. I want to suck your ni-"

I bounced up so that my chair shot against the desk. Ewww!

It's all right, see how you felt it-

Eww! Yuck! Go away!

Okay- Matt shrugged, plopped down in his chair and rolled back to his station. But you see how powerful eye contact can be? Just use that, don't look anywhere else on their body, just the eyes.

I tried to get back to work. I felt like scrubbing my eyeballs with one of those magic sponges that you can clean your sink and car parts with.

When they remove their clothes you can stare, Matt added after a moment. But then you also compliment them. Not with words, just gentle groans. He started whimpering, as if seeing Miss Universe naked. Oh.. uhhuh... ah...

I felt nauseated. Okay can you stop now! Just... stop.

Women, women everywhere. I could not stop staring at women, trying to find the right one. After work at the gym, on the leg press, I observed a short woman on a treadmill. Tried to estimate her weight. Seemed about the right size - but when she stepped down I saw she was pregnant. At the supermarket, walking around with a basket, I saw a short lean woman with a toddler and stopped to look at her from head to toe. I didn't notice I was doing this, I just did it without thinking. The woman threw me a disgusted look, quickly ramming her cart past me. I said, I'm sorry, I'm just looking for someone fit-

Get lost you fucking creep!

Mortified, depressed, I walked ahead, picked up some keto ice cream. Those all have the texture of damp kitchen towel.

If only they knew I was just trying to find a partner for sports. A smooth, clockwork-like partnership. Let