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Sahara's Mark
It was not the street I usually go down, but for some reason that day I turned down a different road. To be precise it was Hickamore Road and the trees were so beautifully dressed in their fall leaves. I was in no hurry to get home; my older brother would still get in trouble for kicking me out of his truck to go to a party. But, of course, younger, smarter, and girly siblings were a pain in his tight and popular profile. At least he will still be popular, until all his old classmates find out he’s a drop out of a community college. Anyway, today is the last day of school and the beginning of the Thanksgiving holiday week. In nine days I will be back in my usual routine of waking up, going to school, working at the vet, doing homework, and finally going to sleep.
The cool, fresh air of fall blew a swirl of gold, orange, and red leaves around me. It was quiet and blissful. The birds were chirping and a squirrel hurried away with a nut. The sun’s rays fell through the trees making the whole road feel like a sanctuary from heaven after all the fuss from earlier. I continued down Hickamore Road, until I came to a trail on the left heading deeper into the woods. I knew that the trail lead to a large lake. My older brother use to take me there when we were little. We would swim during the summer and ice skate during the winter. A picture of the lake formed in my head. The water, clam and still, reflecting the colorful trees like a mirror in a bathroom. I remember there being a bench at the end of the trail that looks over the lake. Deciding to take my time and relax, I’ll call my parents when I get to the lake and bench, to let them know what happened and where I am.
Walking down the trail, I noticed deer running from my presence, as well as a large frog that seemed to be late for hibernation. Walking a little quieter and slower, I noticed a flat stone the size of an oreo. It looked perfect for skipping on the water. Picking it up, I continued my journey to the lake and the bench. The further down the trail I got, the more I felt at peace. I felt the whole stress of the world leave me. Soon a stream made its way beside the trail and stopping to watch a golden leaf fall and land in the water. As the leaf landed in the water, it created ripples and slowly made its way down the stream, until it stopped before a small fall in the water. Stuck on the lip of the fall, the leaf gathered water and sank under the pressure. Turning, I continued down the trail.
As the bench and the lake came into view, pulling my cell phone out, I called my house phone. My mom was the first to answer. “Willow! Hey! What’s going on? You and your brother were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!”
“Sorry, Mom, but Garret wanted to go to a party with some friends and I wasn’t invited.”
Hearing that, my mom hit her wooden spoon on the counter. I could hear the wood splitting over the phone. I also heard my dad frizzing out trying to find a new one in the closet. She broke them quite frequently. Whenever Mom was angry or frustrated, she took it out on her wood spoons. One time, when my dad and I bought her a plastic, non-breakable spoon for Christmas, that New Year’s party she broke the counter and a window trying to get her frustration and anger out. Garret told her he got a girl pregnant and she was moving in the next day. It was all a joke of course, Garret has never been able to catch a girl, but it was too late. She broke the counter first, then, Dad was able to calm her down. Garret told her it was a joke, and the real truth is that he dropped out of college because it was too hard. That’s when the window broke and so did the plastic, non-breakable spoon. Mom broke it when she ran outside to find it. When she found the spoon, well, let’s just say that she had to have knee surgery the next day.
Even though this sounds terrifying, it was absolutely hilarious to watch a short, old woman destroy stuff and say food names instead of cussing. My dad and I laugh about it all the time when we travel together and have father-daughter time. Dad is always calm and tells the best jokes, especially if it’s about Mom going into a rampage. My parents are exact opposites. Mom is really short, while my dad is really tall. Mom has crazy rampages and dad sits and listens and helps sort things out calmly. This time, however, he was very upset and was just as angry as Mom at Garret, but without the violence. They were angrily deciding how to punish Garret, until I interrupted them.
“Hey?” I said, “I’m down by the lake on Hickamore Road. Should I stay here and one of you come get me or find my way home?” By this time I was sitting on the bench overlooking the water. I had the phone in one hand and turning the stone around in the other. Dad replied this time,
“I’ll come get you, Willa. I’ll see you in seven to ten minutes so hang tight.”
“Okay, bye I love you,” I said back to them.
“Bye, love you,” my parents said together and hung up. I took my book bag off and my uniform jacket and walked to the water’s edge. I prepared to skip the stone when out of the corner of my eye I saw an animal. It was far away, but I could see it clearly. I have never seen something like this animal before. It seemed to sit like a dog or a cat, but more hunched over, probably because it seemed to be looking down directly at its reflection.
In all honesty it looked sad. The way its shoulders were drooped and its tail didn’t move up or down or side to side. The animal looks so odd, its body is shaped and toned like a cheetah’s with the color and animal print. The snout and the ears are longer than what a cheetah would have though, much like my old pet dog, Anne. She was a Germen Shepherd and died two years ago. The ears and snout of this mysterious animal also had the rusty, reddish, amber color that Anne had. However, the tail was the strangest of all, its tail looked to be the same length as the whole body and it had long shaggy fur the same color as the ears and snout. The whole animal seemed to be the size of a common dog, even though it is hard to tell with it being so far away.
As soon as I noticed the animal, it slowly turned its head toward me, with its ears popped up. It began to stand on all fours, then, ruffling its fur to make itself look bigger. Suddenly the beautiful and colorful world of fall left me. Time appeared to stop and the color of the leaves and the ground drained away, like water droplets rolling down a windshield when it rains. Fear set in and I became terrified. The animal started to charge, heading right for me at full speed. It growled and showed very many sharp, white teeth. My first thought was to run away, I almost did, but something told me not too. That little voice that got me out of trouble or helping me not make the wrong choices, spoke.
“Drop the stone.” I hesitated of course, but I ultimately listened. I dropped the stone and made a better stance. “Charge,” said the voice. And so I did without hesitation. Here I am running full speed at this unknown, dangerous animal.
As the space between us decreased, my view of the animal increased. I could see its fur was all filthy and twisted. I could see dried blood from open wounds made by other animals. Then I noticed the teeth. They were shiny and white, all but one. There in the back of the jaw where the edge of the lip creased back to expose the teeth, was a yellow and darkened tooth.
Now this might sound strange, but this moment reminded me of an old Disney movie about sled dogs and there was one in the pack that was always grouchy and aggressive. In order for the dog to calm down and to help was to bite the dog’s ear. That sounded really dangerous and, let’s be honest, it sounded gross. Sadly that voice inside my head knew what I was thinking and told me I was right. The animal and I came closer; it’s become too late to turn back now. I made a plan in my head quickly of what to do, just only one major flaw. I have no idea on how strong this animal is and I don’t even know my own strength. I just have to go with what my gut is telling me.
The animal jumped up, but I expected that. I moved out of the way and grabbed its snout with both of my hands to clamp it shut. We both fell to the ground with a loud thud. Swiftly, I rolled onto its back and bent the head down under itself. At the same time, I wrapped my legs underneath of it and held it down. It was a lot bigger and stronger than I imagined. The animal was the size of a Great Dane, a very, very large Great Dane. Quickly, leaning over, I tried to bite its ear. I didn’t get close enough and it wiggled out of my grasp.
Before I knew it, the animal was over me. The animal opened its mouth toward my face, I blocked it in time with my hands and clamped its mouth shut once again. I felt it lift me up and I screamed. Thud! I hit the ground hard, but still holding fast to the snout of the animal. With a great ache in my body, quickly I got up and bit the animal’s ear with excessive force. The animal whimpered like a dog and stopped fighting me. I let go and said, in a commanding voice,
“Stay and do not move.” Seeming to understand; the animal laid down with its head on his paws like a dog.
I ran back to the bench trying my best not to limp. I took out my phone and called the vet. I told them I was coming in on my day off and that there is an animal in need of help and to prepare a room. I also told them that the animal needed a bad tooth taken out, along with a washing, grooming, and a blood test.
The vet said they can have a room and a veterinarian ready in about thirty minutes for me. During this, I kept my eye on the animal the whole time making sure it wouldn’t move or get away. The animal stayed just lying there, keeping an eye on me too. Soon I heard my dad’s truck threw the trail. Grabbing my book bag and jacket, I then walked over to the animal.
“You can get up now,” I said kindly. I watched as the animal slowly got up as my dad drove in. I saw through the windshield my dad panicking at the sight of the odd creature and stumble out of the truck with a gun in his hand. The animal arched its back painfully, I could see through the open wounds along its spine. They looked horrid and I put my hand on its head.
“Shhh,” I whispered to it. Shouting toward my dad, “Dad, everything is fine, but I need to get to the vet.” Knowing me well, and noticing that he was holding the gun upside-down, he put the gun away and opened the tail gate in the back. Starting toward the truck, I motioned for the animal to follow. At first hesitating, but slowly followed.
I climbed in the back and beckoning the animal to come up with me. Once both of us were in the back of the truck, my dad took my book bag and jacket; closed the tail gate and got in the truck. Starting the truck, he headed toward the vet office where I work after school. I found an old, torn towel and laid it on an old, flat tractor tire my dad found a few weeks ago. I patted the towel-covered tire wondering if the animal wanted to lay down on it. It did, but keeping its head up. It continually looked at me, then, the passing scenery, then, back at me.
My dad opened the middle back window of his truck and asked, “What happened to your arm and shoe?”
When I looked at my arm, it was scratched and bleeding, as well as my ankle; and my shoe had tears in it. Surrounding the tears were streaks of red from the top of my foot. When the animal and I were wrestling, I must have scratched my arm on the ground and a claw from the animal must have grazed my ankle and foot. Surprisingly it doesn’t hurt.
Wait, I take that back, noticing how deep the wound is on my arm and ankle, it’s becoming painful. I quickly looked around for something to distract me. The first thing I saw, as we were pasting it, was the old billboard the town hasn’t decided to take down yet. It was an advertisement about some sort of kidney beans that were so popular back when my dad was a kid.
“Willa, you okay?” My dad asked worried since I didn’t respond to his earlier question.
“Yeah I’m fine, just a scratch.” It wasn’t true, but I didn’t want him to worry over me now. All I could do to help him relax was to explain everything that happened.
Unlike my mom, my dad is a very spiritual man and believes that the voice in my head is God or the Holy Spirit talking to me. I think it’s true; either that or I have a tiny little person inside of my head that knows all and sees all. My dad and I both laughed at the crazy stories he makes up about the times he has met the little person inside of his head and how they went on adventures together. It was what I needed to hear to distract me again from my arm and foot. The animal laid its head on its paws and whined. I slowly and carefully pet the animal. Cautiously, I combed out some of the knots in its hair on its head with my fingers.
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This is the fist chapter to a short story or maybe a novel to come. My family and friends have inspired me to write this story with their crazy, wild sides and big hearts. I hope you all enjoy and yearn to hear more.