Canid Camera

           If I had known that something interesting was actually going to happen in my life when I was younger, I would have kept a diary or something. Especially on that vacation my first road trip during the summer of my junior year in college.
           I started on I-95 around eleven on an August night. The highway was devoid of any activity, even semi trucks, which struck me as strange. I’d taken this path a number of times and it was always busy when there was someplace I had to go.

            Two hours passed and the DJ fell asleep on me. There was some static, then dead air. Suddenly, the B 52’s filled my speakers. I wasn’t in the mood for 80’s pop, so I turned off the radio and rolled down my window. That’s when I noticed him walking on the medium.
            A man was limping along the middle of the highway. He wasn’t thumbing for a ride, either. He didn’t even notice me until I pulled over. I stuck my head out the window and shouted at the stranger.

            “Weather man says a storm’s coming! Need a lift?” I felt a rush of excitement as I lied to the stranger. To this day, I couldn’t tell you why I stopped the car. Consequences were the last thing I thought about when I was young.
            He walked up to my window and looked in the car. It was about one in the morning and I couldn’t see him clearly. The words out of his mouth didn’t belong to a grateful traveler.

            “What sort of dilemma are you in to be traveling alone at this time, offering rides to strangers, miss?”
            I shrugged and he began walking again. For some reason I felt compelled not to lose him, so I slowly followed in my car. A Mustang blazed by us going the opposite direction, startling both of us. He then turned and looked at me once more.

            “I was getting tired.” He spoke almost in a whisper.

            I put the car in park and unlocked the passenger door. I found it odd that he wasn’t carrying anything with him. When he opened the door, the inside lights revealed that he was bleeding from the forehead and the left side of his face was swollen. He sat down, not smiling or thanking me for the ride. His trench coat smelled of Vicks and burn cream.

            “Got any wet ones?”

            I pulled out the dispenser under my seat and he pulled out about four, taking turns with them dabbing at his open wound. The alcohol must have stung like crazy, but there was no trace of discomfort on his face. Only boredom. He noticed me staring and turned his body away, like a proud wounded animal at a vet’s office. That’s when I noticed them… his eyes. They were shining; a greenish tinge in the darkness. They revealed nothing and everything about him. I suddenly felt a cold sensation go up my spine to my teeth. He was looking at me.

            “I saw a sign for a hospital a few miles back.” I offered.

            He raised his hand and shook his head, to my expectation. There was some Japanese or Chinese writing on his wrist. I resolved to ask him what it meant before we parted ways.

            “Where are you heading?”

            We asked question simultaneously. I smiled and even let out a chuckle. He seemed slightly agitated.

            “Nowhere in particular.” I replied.

            “Anywhere’s fine, then.” he said.

I put the car in first gear and started off again, my new passenger in tow. We drove for half an hour in silence. I tried to pay attention to the road, but I couldn’t. I kept glancing in his direction and he pretended not to notice.

            “An exit’s coming up in about an hour. Number 432; Ketteringsburg. There’s a Sheraton off the beltline if you need rest and a twenty-four hour Wendy’s if you’re hungry.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

            “For the ride.” he explained.

            I flipped on the light and looked at the money. I was afraid to decline, so I motioned for him to put it in the cup holder. I started to say something, but he pulled his seat back and closed his eyes. I figured that he was the type of person that did favors out of necessity, not gratitude. It was quiet once again, save an occasional snore or cough from my passenger, and even those were subtle. An hour later, I pulled off onto the Ketteringsburg exit.

            “We’re here.” I was afraid to tap him on the shoulder, so I raised my voice, hoping to stir him from his slumber. To my relief, he inhaled deeply before opening his eyes.

            “That we are.” He stretched without making a noise. ‘Here’ was the Sheraton he was talking about. I pointed to the drink container.

            “I didn’t want to disturb you, so I ordered you a Frosty.”

            He sipped the dessert discretely. “The time, please?”

            I looked at my watch. “Two forty one.”

            He sighed. “Again I have to ask. Where are you headed for?”

            “I’m on an impromptu vacation,” I answered in a mock movie trailer tone. “Destination: Adventure.”

            There wasn’t even a tick of a smile on his face. He must’ve had a terrible day.

            “I can accompany you if you’d like.” He spoke like he was reading a script.

            “A road trip could prove amusing with company.” I began unconsciously mimicking his speech patterns.

            “Get a room. I will stay here in your car for the night if you don’t mind.” He was coldly courteous.

            “You should come up too.” I remembered that he had fresh open wounds. I could still smell the blood. He looked at me through his neon green eyes once more and smiled for the first time. Well, it was actually more of a smirk.

            “Have you no concept of courtship either? You should not be inviting strangers into your room of slumber. You take too many risks.”

            I laughed, throwing my head back for dramatic emphasis. “Taking risks is what makes life so interesting! Why simply exist when you can really live?”

            “Because of your family,” he answered suddenly, catching me off guard. “Your loved ones would be saddened to learn that you think so little of their feelings.”

            I took the money he gave me and opened the door. “I never got your name.”

            He pulled the seat back as far as it would go and closed his eyes before replying. “I never got yours, either.”

***

            Later that morning, I found the stranger perched on top of my car like a hawk looking for a rodent to feed on. His trench coat was now unbuttoned, revealing that he was shirtless. I noticed that the gash on his head from last night had healed into a scar. I concluded that it hadn’t been as bad as I thought it was because it was so late. I must have been really hallucinating last night because those emerald eyes form last night were now a rusty crimson. Not bloodshot or anything, just…red. His face was completely symmetrical and his hair cut to the scalp. His right hand rest in his pocket while his left fell limp at the side. He seemed a brighter than before and well rested.

            “Ready to leave?”

            I couldn’t believe my ears. He now had an Eastern European accent. He smiled at me and cart wheeled off the roof to the pavement like a slinky. I unlocked the doors and we headed north.

            “We’re taking you shopping.” I announced as we entered the parking lot of a local mall. It was my first time in this city, but all malls seem to be in the same general vicinity. I noticed him tense up like a little kid at a dentist office when we parked. I know that most guys hate shopping, but he seemed absolutely horrified and gripped his seat tightly.

            “Look, if you’re going to come along on my vacation, you’re going to need a couple changes of clothes. You don’t even have a shirt on for goodness
sake.

            “No malls.”

            His tone was forceful. I looked at his serious face and chose not to press the matter. I’d seen a men’s clothing store in a shopping center a couple miles back, so we went there.

            “Doth mine eyes deceive me or has Viante the enigma finally discovered females?” A well-manicured salesman greeted us at the door. I looked at my companion and smiled.

            “I didn’t know you were a regular here.”

            Before he could respond, the shop attendant spoke again.

            “He’s not. Came here one time some years ago. Bought that very trench coat from me. It’s about time somebody told him that forest green is out of season.” The attendant laughed at his own joke as he made his way to the dress shirts.

            “So Viante,” he continued. “Introduce me to your friend.”

            “I do not know her name.”

            “We only met this morning.” I explained, breaking the awkward conversation gap. “I’m Cindy.” He looked at me oddly as he shook my hand.

***

           “It’s true I’ve got a photographic memory but everyone here knows Viante the nomad. Been stalking this town’s streets for about a decade now keeping us safe.” The attendant explained as Viante was in the dressing room trying on the five pairs of pants I made him wear.

           “Safe from what?” I mused.

           The attendant scratched his head. “I’m not really sure. He must be doing a damn fine job though. Haven’t had any gruesome or unnatural killings here since he showed up.”

           And there were before?

           I wanted to find out more about Viante from the attendant, but I simply could not bring myself to ask any more questions. It’d be like reading someone’s diary while they were in the bathroom; indecent. I tried changing the subject.

           “So, are you gay?” I blurted, before I could think of something else to ask. It was a miserable attempt to cover up my apprehensions about Viante and was met with an embarrassing silence. I was saved when Viante came out of the dressing
room wearing a new pair of pants and the blue overcoat I had suggested. “I’m ready to check out.” he announced, saving me.

           “Ketteringsburg’s full of weirdos, isn’t it?” I glanced over at my passenger who was wolfing down a burger as we merged onto the highway. We’d picked up some camping equipment in a store across from the clothing shop. The vendor seemed both relieved and offended to deal with Viante. It must have been murder for his business to have to serve him.

           “They’re oddly inviting,” he responded. “But anyone who is inherently polite is more dangerous when they falter.” I didn’t understand what he meant but kept my mouth shut.

           “You could have asked the tailor a number of questions about me, yet you refrained. Your thoughts scream like an old graveyard. Reveal it already.” He glanced at me. I didn’t respond immediately. Instead I pulled into a rest area and parked next to the vending machines.

           “You have so much cash on you...”

           “Pit fighting,” He looked out the window. “Unsanctioned mortal combat based and fueled by gamblers, drug lords, and politicians.”

           The answer could have led me to another similar question of a similar kind, but I wasn’t prepared to know so much. Curiosity killed the cat, right? I got out of the car and bought a soda.

           “Viante isn’t my name.” he said suddenly as I got back in.

           I smiled. “Cindy isn’t mine either.”

           He grunted. “It’s Patricia Long. You shouldn’t hide your Driver’s License in your glove compartment no matter how unflattering the picture is.”
I looked at him, thinking he was joking. He was dead serious, though. We drove a few miles in silence as I contained my anger.

           “Mica.” He broke the silence after a while. I felt upset. It was as if I was waiting for an important milestone in our young relationship to find out his name. I suppose it was good that we both lied to the creepy coat guy, though. It was around eight now and I pulled over to a parkway and went off road as Mica had instructed. It’d been years since I had slept under the stars and I felt a little giddy. We stopped at a spot not far from a man-made lake and Mica set up the tent a few yards from the car.

           “If you drive off or sleep in the car, I’ll understand.” he said. It sounded like more of a suggestion than anything else. It was funny. Up until this point, leaving Mica hadn’t even crossed my mind. I felt like a junior high girl trying to keep up with a varsity football player with every fiber of my being. I followed him into the tent, trying to act natural. I watched as he took off his new coat and laid it on his sleeping bag. I couldn’t help but stare at the scars and scratches and discolored bruises that covered his upper torso. I half expected him to whip around, face me and do, well, something, but he simply donned his old trench coat and stood up. Reaching into his pocket, he revealed an elegant, shiny revolver with an ivory handle. It looked like one of those plastic guns from the ‘old west’ my brothers used to play with when they were kids. He took the weapon by the muzzle and thrust the handle in front of me.

           “You have six shots with this. Make them count.”

           I took the pistol from him. It was a lot heavier than it looked. I watched as he opened the tent flap.

           “I need to make some money. I will return later.”

           I couldn’t bring myself to muster a ‘bye’. I wasn’t sure what the gun was supposed to be protecting me from, but Mica didn’t seem like the overly cautious type. He glanced at me before he closed up the tent again and our eyes locked for a split second. I could have sworn his eyes had turned that wild green color again.

***

           Most girls I know wouldn’t have even come into the woods unless they knew their company and/or they were going to score… drugs or otherwise. Most girls I know wouldn’t have let the strange guy that led them into the woods disappear from their tent at odd hours of the night, leaving them alone. But I’d done all this and wasn’t thinking about anything. It was as if he’d placed a spell on me the moment I saw him. It was only now that I was alone that I started to think about these things. Started to realize that I didn’t belong here in Mica’s world. But I was really tired so I went right to sleep. For some odd reason, my watch alarm had been set for one a.m. Watch alarms usually don’t wake me up. High-end stereo systems blazing the Star Wars usually don’t wake me up. But this time I got up and quickly. I realized I fell asleep sitting up with the pistol Mica gave me clutched in both hands. I looked around the tent. Mica hadn’t returned. We’d parked pretty far away from the highway, so I wondered why there were shadows moving around the outside of the tent. I could barely see them, but they were there. The wind wasn’t blowing, so I couldn’t have been the trees. The shadows I saw looked too big to be a couple of curios raccoons. I started to remember the bad horror movies I watched as a kid and stood up, slowly. My heart started racing as the shadows became larger.

           “Hello?!”

           Mica wasn’t back yet and I felt completely helpless. There was a floodlight in the middle of the tent. Obviously, whatever was out there was aware that I was here, so turning on the light could scare it off. The floodlight almost blinded me and I wasn’t even facing it. The shadows had disappeared, but whatever was out there didn’t. Feeling a sudden siege of adrenaline, I tore down the zipper to the side of the tent closest to me and jumped out backwards like I was in a comic book. Unfortunately there were no special effects to save me from falling flat on my ass. A few pairs of yellow, greedy eyes flashed at me, converging around me swiftly. I couldn’t tell if they were cougars or mountain lions, or even if there was a difference between the two, but the eyes belonged to big cats with tawny fur. You ever see those commercials with the Indian and the mountain lion walking alongside a cliff peacefully? Well they didn’t. I sat still, clutching my pistol as they came closer. They seemed to be circling me instead of rushing. Awfully calculating for wild beasts. The one that looked to be the leader stepped inside the circle, sizing me up. I could see his teeth shining in the moonlight. It looked as if he was grinning.

           “What are you doing, dumbass?!” I thought aloud. “Point and shoot!”
I raised the pistol to his face but before I could do any more, he darted to the side and pounced on me, catching me off guard, off balance, and any other off verbs you can think of. You know in the Wildlife Treasury where it says a cougar can weigh up to 200 pounds? I had no idea how much that would feel like up until this point. I dropped the pistol when the cat landed on me, obviously, but it was within my reach. He had my legs and arms pinned, but I saw him look over to the pistol, cock his head, and then swipe at it, pushing it out of my grasp. I’d never encountered a cougar in the wild before, but this one seemed unusually bright. I didn’t struggle; it’d just waste energy. Instead, I tried controlling my breathing, waiting for an opportunity to escape. I started to think of Mica. He could be close.

           “Mica!!!” I screamed before the cougar thrust his paw over my mouth. Genius, I tell you. If I had been watching this happen to someone else, I’d be visibly impressed. The cougar cocked his head again and looked away from me. He started sniffing the air loudly. I looked around too, for as much as I could. The other cougars were all facing the brush on the opposite side of my tent. All of a sudden, I saw this white streak fly overhead and the weight sprang off of my body. Whatever the cougar had detected was here in full force. I rolled over and grabbed the pistol before finding out what the new center of attention was. It was a white wolf with green eyes. The cougars were now circling him with their leader in the middle, much like before. But this time, the wolf pounced the cougar and pinned him to the ground. Never in my life had I ever heard the sound of teeth cracking bones and tearing flesh and I never want to hear it again. What was happening in front of me was so gruesome I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The wolf tore a chunk out of the cougar’s neck and proceeded to bite through his windpipe. The other cougars, seeing their alpha male fallen so quickly probably should have run off. That’s what I think the wolf was counting on. No such luck, though. They jumped on him, chomping at all four of his limbs, knocking him on the ground. I looked at the wolf and saw that he was stronger than all of these animals combined, and if he took them out, he could easily make quick work of me. But chances were that if I tried to leave the scene, allowing the forces to fight, that the cougars would make puppy chow out of the wolf and have me for desert. So I raised the pistol and fired into the air. That sound was familiar to the cougars, and they jumped off of the wolf and ran off, leaving him to die, ignoring me.

           I sat on the ground pretty much overwhelmed by the recent events, and didn’t even notice the wolf limp up to me. I could hear a low growl, but I wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t hurt me at this point.

           “Thanks, boy.” I said, rubbing his back. That’s when I saw the gashes on his coat. He’d already been in a fight before he came to save me. I felt terrible for even considering leaving him. I rushed into the tent and grabbed Mica’s new coat from his sleeping bag. I wrapped the wolf in it and pick him up. He was heavy, I suppose, but I couldn’t feel anything. I put him in the back seat of my car and started driving off. There was a hospital down the road with an ER that Mica had pointed out earlier. I know it wasn’t a veterinarian office, but, there was nothing else. As I started the car, I thought about what Mica had said earlier about he’d understand if I drove off or anything. I wish I had left him a note. When we arrived at the ER, I pulled the coat down to see if the wolf was still breathing. It was. But it was now a man. It was now Mica.

***

           Call me stupid, but I never stuck around to see what happened to Mica. Seeing who or what he was made me put things into perspective. I realized that I wasn’t ready to lose all the social conventions I’d grown accustomed to. Mica’s world was exotic, enticing, dangerous and exciting from the outside, but I could bring myself to go back to it. It was scary, and I wasn’t as brave as I had originally thought. So I finished my senior year. I graduated with honors and got a job in the Library of Congress. I’m old and retired now and am starting to lose my hair. Every once in a while I’ll open an old shoe box, pull out that shiny revolver and look at the moon, wondering how things would have turned out, had I gone back to that hospital.