Smalltown Connection (Audio Script)

Stories

Expand on that…

Make a note to set up another interview with Micah…

Is that really the time?

I guess I’m at a good stopping point.

When my editor told me the magazine had booked a remote cabin for me on the western coast of Alaska for the month, I was thinking, like, a cute Airbnb on the shores of a frozen lake.

Not an isolated cabin at the end of a hilly dirt road.

The scenery in town is a totally different story, though.

Everything is wild, almost overwhelming.

Towering evergreens swaying in the breeze, snow-capped mountains to the east and west, the sneaky, shimmery glimmer of the sea occasionally poking through the foliage.

I’m grateful, of course.

This is a huge assignment and if I nail it, that might mean a leg up for the senior writer position.

And this place is beautiful, obviously.

I’m just… a little bored.

I mean, the nearest grocery store is almost an hour away from here.

And this little town is cute, but it doesn’t have much to offer in the way of nightlife, aside from that little saloon down by the docks.

Ah, well.

I should be working on my story, anyway.

The quiet alone time is actually kind of nice.

Shit… who the hell could that be?

I didn’t think anyone even knew I was staying out here.

Single woman alone in an isolated cabin gets a mysterious knock on her door…

Kinda sounds like the start of a horror movie…

“Hey, there.”

I kind of zone out a little as I take in the sight of you.

Tall, broad shoulders.

Hair a little wild under your ball cap.

Messy, but trimmed beard.

The kind of guy you’d want on your side in a zombie apocalypse.

“I, uh, I live just down the road and saw your car in the driveway.

Thought I’d stop by and introduce myself.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you. I thought I was totally alone for miles.”

So, a gorgeous rugged mystery man just knocked on my door because he wanted to introduce himself. This might be more of a rom-com than a horror movie situation…

If only I was so lucky…

We shake hands and yours are strong and calloused, almost completely enveloping mine.

“Close, but not quite.

What brings you to town?”

“Uh, I’m a journalist.

I’m doing a story on some of the commercial fisheries out here.

Seems like they’ve been struggling a lot with the change in sea level and rise in temperatures.”

“Oh, yeah?

That’s great.

Well, I mean, I guess that’s terrible.

I’m a firefighter in town, so definitely seen some crazy weather, wildfires, and all that.”

“Yeah, scary times.

Are you from here originally?”

“I am, actually.

Born and raised.

I moved away for college but then came back pretty soon after.”

Your smile is a little crooked and there’s something playful and gentle in your eyes that defies your masculine outdoorsman look.

“Well listen, I, uh, brought over a few local beers as a welcome gift.

Maybe, um, maybe I can help you out with your story if you need.

I actually worked at a couple of those fisheries a few summers ago, so—”

“Seriously? That’s great, really nice of you to offer.

Um, Come in, come in.”

I smile up at you, trying not to blush.

Sure, you seem like a really great resource for my piece, but… if it were up to me we would be doing a little more than just talking…

Or maybe all this pent-up isolation has just made me super horny.

“It’s not often I get a neighbor way out here.

Always nice to have someone to talk to other than my dog.”

“Yeah, don’t you get lonely living out here by yourself?”

“Ah, it’s not too bad.

My parents and sister and her kids all live in the next town over,

so I try to see them every week.

Plus my job keeps me busy, so at the end of the workday I like coming back to nature and enjoying the peace and quiet.”

God, there’s something really romantic and kind of stoic about your life.

I try to imagine you coming home from a day of firefighting to drink a beer out on your front porch and wander through the woods with your dog at your side.

“That sounds really nice.

For now, I try to get out of the city as much as I can, but I’m kind of at the mercy of where my work sends me.

Oh, here, let me grab that six-pack.

I’ll get some glasses.”

“Thanks, yeah.

They’re from a brewery over in Anchorage.”

Our fingers brush as I hand you a glass.

I pretend not to notice and busy myself with opening a couple of cans while blood rushes up to my face.

You flash that crooked smile again and I can feel your eyes on me… on my face… my neck… my hands.

I can’t quite read your expression, though.

Your eyes, narrow and dark, your head tilted just slightly.

It’s like you’re trying to figure me out, just as I’m trying to do with you

You settle on the end of the couch nearest to the wood-fire stove.

I watch you hold your hand out to the glowing embers and warm your fingers.

“Here you go.”

I hand you one of the glasses and drop down next to you.

It’s a small couch and there’s only a handful of inches separating us when I turn my body to face yours.

“So… what d’you wanna know?”

Well, there’s lots that I’d like to know about you.

How you take your coffee, what your favorite color is…do you like a woman on top?

But I guess I should try and keep it professional for now

“Um…”

“How about this? For every question you ask me, I get to ask you one too.”

Wow, that was smooth.

Or maybe it was corny.

I can’t tell yet…

But I’m definitely getting the feeling that you’re just as curious about me as I am about you.

“Okay, fair enough.

Me first, though.

How’d you get started working at the fishery?”

“Well, I was eighteen, needed a summer job.

Got one at Lawrence and Sons, largest locally-owned fishery in the region.”

“Mhm.”

That smile again.

I’m starting to think you’re not interested in helping me with my story at all.

“My turn.

Uh, do you have a boyfriend?

Or… a girlfriend?

Romantic partner or any kind?”

My cheeks are getting warm.

I give myself a few extra moments to respond by taking a long gulp from my glass.

“Um, no, I am entirely romantically unattached at the moment.

Why do you ask?

Oops, I guess that counts as my next question.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

That was probably too forward.

I don’t wanna overstep any boundaries or anything. I mean, we did just meet. I’m a total stranger…”

“No, well, I mean… I guess I’m just glad you brought it up so I didn’t have to.

Okay, my turn.

Staying in this ‘question’ format is difficult.”

“I thought you were a journalist.

Isn’t that what you’re good at?

Asking questions?”

“Hey, that’s a question, I thought it was my turn.