“This is insane.”Irritated, I march to the corner and reach for the coffee pods.The three raccoons bare their teeth at me.I stumble back.Their greedy little hands spread out like they’re protecting the food, as if I pose a threat to their buffet.“I just want the coffee.Please don’t attack me.I’m sorry if I offended you.Don’t bite me.”
Are they rabid?Visions of rabid raccoons chasing me make me shudder.
The biggest raccoon stares at me, gives what I can only assume is the raccoon version of a shrug, and grabs a piece of cheese in one hand and a slice of salami with the other before shoving both into its mouth while studying me closely.
I don’t want to fight racoons.Maybe I can distract them or shoo them away so I can get my coffee.I’m in charge here, right?I’m the human.All I want, make that need, is a cup of scald the back of my throat, dark roast coffee to take away the sharpest edges of my hangover.I open a cabinet and set a large white mug on the counter.
That’s when the soft chuff of a cat makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
What was that?
Please be a fluffy, harmless bunny.Please, please, please.
I pivot toward the refrigerator.My heart plummets into my toes.
Fuck me!Not a harmless bunny.Suffocating fear slams into me at the sheer size of its teeth and long, curved claws.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!
What do I do?I have no idea how to handle this situation.No amount of cookie baking will fix this.
Atop the stainless-steel refrigerator is an annoyed mountain lion chuffing at me from its perch.She is swishing the tip of her tail back and forth through the air like an irritated house cat.Suddenly, I feel like a walking T-bone steak.
Barely daring to breathe, I slowly back away from the apex predator.One foot after another I retreat.
“Nice kitty.”
Is that a rhinestone collar?A hot pink, sparkly collar with writing on it?
That’s it, I’ve totally lost my mind.Damn thing raced out of the church with me yesterday and kept on running.Haven’t seen it since.
The massive cat jumps off the fridge.Putting my hands up defensively, I squeal, “Stay back.I swear I won’t taste good.”
Like reasoning with a wild predator will stop it from making a meal out of me.
It prowls toward me, its mouth open, displaying sharp canines.
This is how I’m going to die.The breaking news headline in the Tahoe Tribune will read:Local baker tragically eaten by mountain lion in luxury, honeymoon cabin.
The mountain lion roars like I just made her mad.The panic I’ve tried reining in since waking bursts free in a piercing shriek.
Forget this.I’m out.
Swiveling on my heel, I barrel toward the open cabin door, still haphazardly tilted on its edge.How and why it was destroyed last night, I have no idea.Nor do I care.
I sprint outside, into the blaring sunlight, and run, naked as the day I was born.
Eleven
B.I.L.L.: How this planet’s humanoid species has survived this long without annihilating themselves is a statistical anomaly
Lake Tahoe Honeymoon Cabin, Sunday 9:30 am
I dashthrough the forest and try to ignore the way the tree branches whip at my legs when I don’t jump out of the way fast enough.
No speed would be fast enough.Gold medal Olympic speed would still not be fast enough.
Am I running away from the bear, the mountain lion, the man in my bed, or myself?All of the above?
