Last Man Standing

by

Joe Prentis

Eric jerked the phone away from his ear, but he could still hear Lisa screaming. This can’t be happening to me, he thought. It was the third time a woman had dumped him since the beginning of the year. None of it was his fault—or at least he didn’t think it was. Donna dumped him when she found out he voted against the incumbent in the city election. How could he know that Charles Trotter was her uncle? It was not as if he made fun of Trotter or said something disrespectful. He simply made the observation that politicians were more corrupt with each election and she took offense. This shouldn’t have been news to anyone.

The problem with Betty was slightly different. He hadn’t caused the problem, and was shocked when Betty’s mother called him a pervert in front of a hundred people in the checkout line at Wal-Mart. Betty’s mother didn’t notice when the people in front of her moved forward. The little nudge he gave her was not personal, and he couldn’t understand why she thought it was.

There had to be some way to explain this to Lisa if she would only listen, but as he placed the phone against his ear again, she screamed, “I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last man on earth!” He stared at his phone for another moment before he flipped it closed.

The last man on earth. That really wouldn’t be such a bad idea, especially with all of the snotty women he came in contact with every day at the Margaret’s Grooming Salon. Margaret seemed to be mystified that he could always match the dogs with their owners without having to consult the appointment book. Actually it was easy. Harriett Staples hair looked exactly like the hair on her Yorkie. Marge Pennington had a striking resemblance to her Collie, and he didn’t want to think about the woman who owned the two Greyhounds. Eric knew he wasn’t the best looking guy around, but in a day when most men looked better than the women who chased them, he didn’t seem to have a chance. “I wish I was the last man on earth,” he said aloud.

“Excuse me,” a soft feminine voice said from behind him. This time it was Eric who screamed as he whirled around and faced the elfin creature no more than three feet away. He always locked the expensive dead-bolts on his door each time he entered his apartment. How had she slipped inside? As his eyes fell on her features, he could barely keep from screaming again. She looked no more than fifteen or sixteen. She was also very pretty. There was something circling her head, or actually several somethings, and they appeared to be humming birds. The thing he couldn’t stop staring at was the long hair that cascaded down her back and covered her shoulders. He hair was a deep shade of black. He had never seen a woman with hair that dark. Something twinkled in the depths of it like stars in a night sky. She held a thin rod in her hand, and as she moved it, tiny sparkles came from the end in a magical arc.

“Did you send for me?” the creature asked politely. Her features seemed to blur in his vision, and Eric realized it was because he wasn’t breathing.

“What are you?” he finally managed to ask.

“Most people call me an elf, but I don’t mind. It is as good a name as any. I need you to hurry if you want me to grant your wish. There is a nine year old girl in Philadelphia who needs me desperately.”

“My girlfriend just dumped me,” Eric said in a breathless voice. “She said she wouldn’t go out with me again if I was the last man on earth. I was just thinking it wouldn’t be a bad idea, considering how women—”

“Your wish is granted,” she said with a quick little wave of the rod. Eric jumped back as the stardust, or whatever, spread through the air and slowly winked out. She disappeared in a little puff of smoke that smelled like some exotic perfume. He stared at the spot where she stood only a few seconds before, then stumbled toward the couch and dropped down on the end with a bounce. His legs were too weak to support him.

I need to sleep, he decided, as he covered his head with a cushion. When he touched his brow, he discovered that he was hot and feverish. The room seemed to revolve in ever-widening circles. He closed his eyes tightly against the light.

Eric didn’t know how long he slept, but the noise from the street roused him. At first he thought it was the sound from his neighbor’s television. They couldn’t watch a football game unless they cranked the volume all the way up. He moved the cushion away from his head and blinked as he looked toward the window. The sound came from the street and it steadily grew louder. He attended the Superbowl the previous year and this was the kind of sound that rolled across the stadium at the end of the game. He jumped to his feet and went rapidly toward the window. The sash was stuck, but when he jerked it for the second time, it slid upward where he could lean out and look down at the crowd. He realized almost immediately that all of the people below him were women. They chanted in a mindless, hypnotic way as they gazed upward at the side of the building. In a few seconds, everyone in the street turned their attention to his window and took up the chant. He couldn’t make out all of the words, but one of them was ‘men.’ Suddenly they shouted almost in unison, ‘he’s mine,’ ‘this one is mine!’ He stood where he was and stared down at the endless sea of faces stretching like an ocean into the distance. He gave them a tentative wave. One of them pointed in his direction, and the ones closer to the entrance surged forward. The women who remained in the street continued to wave their arms like people did at a rock concert.

“He’s the last man on earth and he’s mine!” a young woman who looked suspiciously like Lisa shouted.

“I forgive you!” he called back as he waved both arms to get her attention. His laughter bubbled up out of control and he realized he felt dizzy with anticipation. A few seconds later, he could hear them on the wooden stairs making a sound like thunder as they raced toward his floor. Eric rushed toward the door and threw both locks. They were now at the head of the stairs. He quickly combed his fingers through this hair and looked down at his shirt. It was wrinkled, but there wasn’t time to change. He knew how a rock star felt at the end of a performance.

“He’s mine! He’s mine!” It was now a steady roar as the high pitched voices mingled together in an ecstatic chorus. He could feel a tingle go up his spine. This was like a Bachelor Show on television gone wild! Would some of them present him with a rose, or was it supposed to be the other way around? If he was actually the last man on earth, how could he possibly choose? There were billions of them and they had their attention focused on him! This was exciting, but also daunting. He was the last man on earth! It was a great responsibility, but also wonderful in a way that no one could describe. Nothing like this had happened since Adam met Eve face-to-face for the first time. Eric stepped into the hallway and opened his arms.

“I want the gun!” a petite blond hollered, but no one seemed to listen.

“No!” Lisa shouted. “I want to do it! Who has the axe?”