"I thought you wanted to be either a librarian or a patent attorney, but I'd never have pegged you for a vet, Ross," Lucy says, caressing the back of the sleepy mountain lion. We all sit cross legged on the floor of my tool shed. "No, wait, wasn't your dad a vet?"
"He was." I swallow. "There is an emergency animal first aid kit around here somewhere."
Z-man is huddling in the corner, hugging his knees, glancing at his wristwatch.
"It's almost midnight, dude." He wipes his sweaty forehead. "I'm so damn tired. I think I even got some blood on my t-shirt. We dragged that stupid mountain lion all the way here."
The animal growls and he lets out a yelp.
"Chicken." Lucy sticks her tongue at him.
I say nothing, and scratch the animal's chin. She cocks her head, and her golden brown eyes are focused on me the way a feline might study an interloper in her forest.
"You're on his side, too? I think..." Z gulps. "Dudes, I think we made a mistake. We shouldn't have brought it here. We could have just called for animal control."
"Zaman Laghmani, I am on your side. You are the one who ran the mountain lion over. What if she doesn't get better? What would the animal control, or animal protection services say?"
You know something is off between them when she uses his full name.
"That animal is weird, I'm telling you." He points his finger at her. "She growled at me when I called her stupid."
"The tone of your voice must have been a dead giveaway." I chuckle, and caress the mountain lion's tiny ears. I am rewarded with a purr.
"She seems to like you," Lucy notices. "She only lets me touch her fur on the back. Poor thing. Do you want a rice cake? Who's a good mountain lion?" She tries to plant an uneaten rice cake under the animal's chin but she shakes her head.
"Don't make me laugh." Z snorts. "A rice cake for a mountain lion? She'd rather devour us if she could. Shit, imagine if someone saw us dragging her in here? Â We're lucky your mom is working and Gus still hasn't returned from the party."
"The party we've missed." Lucy sighs. "Aww and I was so looking forward to it."
"Looking forward to it? Hello? That's an understatement! This was our one chance to get tight with the cool gang." Z kicks a nearby tool box.
"Something tells me Beatrice Laurent will organize many many more parties in her mansion," Â I say. "She seems like the type, you know? Sociable, outgoing... This was a lot more important." I reckon.
The animal lets out a whine.
"Is she hurt? Do you think..." Lucy scrunches her face in pain. "Can you check her for injuries?"
The animal snorts and droplets of red liquid come out of her nose.
"Shit shit shit! Is that blood?" Z -man yells, and the mountain lion roars at him.
"Stop it! You're freaking her out!"
"Bite me. Oh, come on! I'm freaking her out? She's freaking me out." He finally plucks up the courage to get up from the corner where he'd been huddling, and begins pacing around my tiny tool shed.
"All right, that's enough, all right? She's just scared and cold," Lucy says.
"This is mental. I don't know how you convinced me to drag a friggin mountain lion all the way to your tool shed. There's something seriously wrong with you, Ross. Like, wrong in the head." Â Z begins massaging his temples.
"Lu is right, Z. This benefits you. Found the improvised pet first aid kit." I wave the box at him. "Some gauze, cotton balls, adhesive tape, hydrogen peroxide and antimicrobial hydrogel. As soon as she is fast asleep I can check her up, and I'll call animal control in the morning. I can just say I found her here on our property, returning from the party."
"You can wash your car just in case," Lucy says to Z-man, "so that you don't get connected to all of this."
He is staring at the window, silent for a while but then he glances at his phone and speaks up. "Looks like it's a wild party at Laurent's estate, but there are so many Twitter hashtags saying #whereisbeatricelaurent. Seems she bailed on her own event."
"How strange," Lucy says. "I wonder why she didn't come out to greet everyone."
"I'm not surprised. She was a case of sour grapes this whole week. Didn't want to talk to people, Â or mingle with anyone, really." Z-man is on top with the latest gossip as always.
"But then why throw a party?"
He shrugs at my question. "Beats me. To show off her riches and fortune? Out of spite to her parents? I know I'd do stuff out of spite to my Dad." He hugs himself and shudders. "It's snowing harder." He points at the window, changing the topic.
"I think it's good the poor thing is here to spend the night," Lucy squeals.
"I still think we should've never brought her here." Z-man is adamant.
"So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?" I face him.
"Yes! We went out to have fun, and go to the party of the century, not to find problems. If I were you, I'd call animal control right now. Or maybe even tell your mom."
"You know what, maybe that's not such a bad idea," Lucy says. "Let an adult person take care of it."
"Are you crazy, you guys?"
"How is that crazy?" Z pouts.
"'Cause, my mom is working right now, remember?"
"So?"
"So, if I interrupt her, she could lose her job. Like she did the one before this one."
"Oh, man." Z says.
"The only source of income in our homeâgone." I whisper. "And what could she do, anyway? At times, she is more forgetful and more childlike than myself. Not to mention anxious-freaks-out-easily kind of person."
"So what's your plan?"
"She sleeps here tonight."
"You're letting a wild mountain lion..." Z opens his mouth to speak but I interrupt him.
"Just listen! I'll stay with her all the while. In the morning, I'll sneak out of my house, unlock the tool shed and then call the animal control people."
"Oh that's so smart! You can tell them the animal entered on its own, perhaps seeking shelter from the cold?" Lucy is being supportive as always.
"Exactly. The animal control people will know what to do. They'll tend to her more serious wounds if she has any and probably release her back into the wild. We'll be totally in the clear. You guys can go now, though. I'll text you in the morning." I give them both a reassuring hug.
"It's your call dude, but I wouldn't want that thing in my backyard. Mental." Z spits.
I can see he's relieved he is able to leave my tool shed." Drop you off home, Lu?" He adds in a softer voice.
"Sure." She nods but turns around to look at me and the mountain lioness. "Good luck, Ross. Not that you need it. It looks like you are quite the animal whisperer." She winks.
When the mountain lioness and I are left alone, I don't hesitate to reach out for the first aid kit.
I pull out a LED tactical flashlight and warn her. "Okay, this might bother you a bit because the light is kind of strong but I really need to see how badly you're injured. Deal?" I pat her furry head.
She grrs a little, but then stills obediently.
For the time being.
Something tells me she's bold of spirit, and wild at heart.
Yet wild animals can be less wild and more human than many humans in this world.
I recall Steve Irwin's words: "Crocodiles are easy. They try to kill and eat you. People are harder. Sometimes they pretend to be your friend first," and I chuckle.
After a brief inspection, the only thing I discover are the cuts at the tips of her ears and on the muzzle. I clean those with hydrogen peroxide and put some gauze and plasters, hoping there are no broken bones, or internal hemorrhage.
My eyelids are almost closing so I make myself comfortable, leaning my head on the sack of salt opposite of the drowsy mountain lioness.
Just a few hours of a shut-eye and then, I will get everything settled first thing in the morning.
I am woken up by brutal banging on the tool shed. But it comes from the inside, not from the outside.
I jump up, shielding my bleary eyes from the sunlight ? and I stare at the hole where the door is supposed to be, that is.
Did the mountain lioness escape?
I get up on my feet and run outside. Then I see her.
Beatrice Laurent.
She is standing in my backyard, barely covered by a long dark purple dress, her arms wide, as the sunlight hits her face.
Lady in aubergine.
The rays catch in her auburn hair, turning it to copper. There's a cowlick in her fringe that curls up a little at an odd angle, and I find myself fixated on it.
Rather than on the fact one of the most popular girls in school, or the whole country, really, is in my garden.
A wild thought that she may have come to check why I had not attended her party is quickly dismissed when I realize her dress is tattered at the seams.
Did something happen to her?
"Hey, are you okay?" I dare to whisper and she spins around incredibly fast to face me.
Her teeth are bared and I see four sharp canines protruding from her upper and lower mandible.
In everything else, she looks about just as normal as they comeâher auburn hair is pulled up away from her heart shaped face, framed with a fringe that curls every which way in that endearing wild mane asymmetrical sort of mane I don't quite understand. Though there's a peppering of freckles across her cheeks that I don't recall seeing before.
I take a step forward and an almost inhuman, warning growl comes out of her throat.
Don't come any closer, the grr instructs, and I heed the warning.
Surprisingly long eyelashes framing her tantalizing golden brown eyes blink at me.
Is it some kind of a party costume she's wearing?
I stop a short distance away, transfixed. Her ears perk up and protrude upwards from her hair in an unnatural fashion, their tops glistening in crimson red.
This makes absolutely every single alarm in my head blare.
I should yell for help, or run away.
But all I can do is watch this curiosity, and keep on standing there, taking in more and more and more details, each of them a tiny jolt of shock to my brain.
Chunks of gauze are packed high up into her nose and there are tiny plaster pieces on her... earlobes?
Oh my god, why are those the exact same injuries that the mountain lioness had last night?
Is she...
Did she... Did she just break free from my tool shed?
I swallow hard and clutch at my stomach, feeling the bile rising in my throat.
Ross, get a hold of yourself.
She takes a step, and then another one, but sways and falls onto the grass, letting out a distressed moan.
Her flowing dress smooths over her knees, uncovering long shapely legs. Her feet and soles are covered in cuts and blisters.
She's bleeding.
I kneel by her side, saddened by the pain she must be feeling, and this time the stay-away warning doesn't come.
Beatrice just lies there in the grass, like a broken doll, her chest rising and falling with every breath she takes.
She is as overwhelmed with what's happening to her as I am, I comprehend.
I forego all the hows and whys.
Because that's not what she needs. She needs care, and comfort, and someone to tell her...
It's gonna be okay, my thumb messages to the inside of her wrist with a gentle rub.
"Do you want me to call somebody?" I suggest tentatively. "Your... your parents? I could also go get my mom. Or... or the hospital?"
Animal control center is no longer an option.
She shakes her head in a sharp "no."
"You don't want me to call anyone? Don't worry. So I won't. Let me just bring some more bandages from the tool shed so we can wrap your feet. I'll be right back, okay?"
But when I rush back with the bandages, Beatrice Laurent is nowhere to be found.
Instead, it's my brother Gus who storms out of our house.
Before I can think or react even, he pins me against the tool shed wall.
My heart bounces erratically in my chest.
"What the hell happened here, Rosie?" He roars like an enraged bull, lifting me by the throat, veins pulsating in his neck.
A/N: Theme song: The Stranglers "Golden Brown"