Page 88 of Give & Take
My stomach lurches. I think it’s Nova, saying my name in the strangest voice I’ve ever heard. Though, heard is a strong word. I can barely make out what she’s saying. I walk sideways, toward Aurora. Nova’s hidden from view.
“Nova? Everything okay?”
But the moment Nova comes into view, I freeze.
There are two terrible things I notice at once. The first is that the floppy turret is deflating in a strange way now. It’s jerking left and right.
The second, and the thing that has my full attention, is that Nova is frozen.
No, not quite frozen. Standing stock-still, but trembling, her fingers nearly a blur they’re shaking so hard as she points toward the thrashing current.
I catch a flash of copper as the turret snaps to attention again.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my heart thundering as I realize what’s happening.
Redbeard Cove is an adorable small town in a picturesque location. Nestled between the sea and a wild mountain range so rugged, there are no roads through it to the rest of the country, only the one up the coast, which is why we’re only accessible by ferry.
But wild and rugged with no roads means no people. No people means animals prevail.
Big animals, like bears and cougars.
They don’t show up all that often, so it’s easy to become complacent. But every now and then there’s a sighting in someone’s backyard.
Like right now. Because right now, there’s a cougar in my backyard, with its claw apparently stuck in the side of the grass patch.
The next few seconds pass in what I can only describe as silent, torturous slow motion. Like someone’s turned the speed of the world down to 0.5.
I’m in between my two kids, stuck in an awful moment of needing to make a horrific decision.
Aurora’s closest to me at about ten feet away. At only three and a half feet tall, she’s at the most risk. Cougars tend to go for things they can drag away.
But Nova’s closest to the animal.
“Nova!” I say calmly, deciding to act based on who can follow instructions the quickest. “Pick something up. Get very big and make noise!”
Unlike with bears, the wisdom with a cougar is to make noise and try to scare it off. Act big.
Pick up small children.
Nova, given clear instruction, backs up, looking around.
My heart lodges hard in my esophagus.
I turn to my youngest, who’s only a few feet from the end of the deck, looking confused. I don’t think she can see the animal from where she’s standing.
“Aurora honey, get inside the house.” My voice beliesa calmness I’ve pulled directly out of thin air. I want to run to her, but I can’t leave Nova.
“Why?” Aurora asks sweetly, quirking her head.
A growl emanates from the giant cat, and that’s the thing that has me lose all common sense.
“Get inside the house,right now!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
Then I race toward Nova, who’s shaking as she picks up an inflatable ball.
Just then I hear a sound overhead. Theschlockof a window sliding open. “What’s going?—”
Then a big pause, and a booming “Hey!”
