Now I was giving too much credit to an idiot.
I used the light to guide me, bushwacking and cringing when I knew I stepped on something wet and squishy.Probably a big slug.I hoped it was a big slug.
Fortunately, the largest predator we had on the island was a bald eagle.I didn’t have to worry too much about bears, wolves, or cougars.Just stupid donkeys.
Taking a literal spiderweb in the face and swatting at the air like a crazy person, I emerged on the other side of the trees and onto the driveway of one Dipshit Principal where, like a prisoner caught by the spotlight as he attempted to flee maximum security, Piñata stood on their front porch eating the flowers from Mrs.Dipshit Principal’s flower pot.
“Piñata,” I hissed, glancing up at the second-story window to see that it was open.I waved the beast toward me, but he just swished his tail in defiance and continued chewing.
Careful not to make too much noise as I crossed the gravel, I climbed the two steps up to the covered porch and grabbed the animal by the mane.He let out a bellowinghee-haw, then tried to turn around and nip at me.
I moved out of the way, only to get a hoof in the shin.“Mannaggia!”I swore, not quite under my breath.I got to the side of him so he couldn’t kick me again, and tightened my grasp on his short mane, tugging harder.But that just made him angrier, and hehee-hawedeven louder, then tried to bite me again.
I yanked harder than ever, not really caring if I hurt him at this point—well, I cared a little—and just as he let out the loudesthee-hawyet, the front door swung open to reveal a small boy with wild brown bedhead and a confused look on his face.
“Buongiorno,” I said, giving an awkward wave.“My donkey escaped.”
“Grandpa!”the kid hollered.“There’s a donkey on the porch!”
Like oncoming thunder, footsteps echoed on hardwood until a tall man with a gut hanging over the waistband of his striped pajama pants, and a bushy, yellow-tinged white mustache came to stand behind the kid.His pale-blue eyes looked tired, and what hair he had left was a thin nest of gray and white on top of his head, wilder than the child’s—if that was possible.“What are you doing on my property?”he demanded, hoisting his waistband up over his hairy bellybutton and then scratching at his stomach through his white T-shirt.
“My donkey escaped, and I found him here.I’m trying to get him to come home.He is a very stubborn ass.”
“Language!”the principal roared at me.“You are in the presence of a child.Have you no manners?No morals?Where are you from anyway?I detect an accent.Are you here legally?”
“Ex-excuse me?I’m from Italy.I live next door.And yes, I’m here legally.I have dual citizenship.”
The principal made a “Harrumph,” noise, but didn’t seem convinced that I was allowed to be inhiscountry.“Get your … yourcreatureoff my property, now.”
“I’m trying to,” I said, dumbfounded by how this man was treating me.No wonder Danica and Cameron had nothing good to say about him.
The kid stepped forward, his hand outstretched.“I want to pet him.Can I ride him?”
Piñata lunged his big grimy teeth at the child, but I yanked him back before he made contact.
“You would come to my home, my property, and try to harm my grandson?I’ll sue you, I will.”
What was happening right now?
“Clyde, get in the house,” the principal said, shooing the child away.
“But I want to pet the donkey!”he screamed.
“In the house.Now.”
“I hate you!”Then the kid spun on his socks and ran away, screaming for his mother.
“Signore, I promise you, I mean no harm.He broke free of his stall and ran away from me.I came here as soon as I realized he was gone.I just need to get him home.”
“Took you long enough.Look at what he’s done to my wife’s tulips.You’ll pay to replace them, you will.”
I nodded.“Of course.Of course.”I tugged harder on Piñata’s mane, my anxiety over being in this horrible man’s orbit starting to take over.I was sweating and filthy, and my feet were squishing with every movement.I probably looked like a frightening forest monster at this point.
“Have to do everything myself, I guess,” the principal said, reaching into the house for a moment before bringing out a long, plastic shoehorn.
He raised his hand high in the air with it, and I was about to tell him to please not hit the animal, but it was too late.He cracked it over Piñata’s rear end.The donkey made a horrendous noise, jumped a little, and took off down the porch, dragging me with him since I still had hold of his mane.I landed hard on my knees on the gravel, having to let go of Piñata as he took off back into the forest.
“There,” the principal said.“You owe us tulips.”Then he slammed the door, leaving me to limp home through the trees.
