As Sage prepared to cross, Pica frowned. She could see her sister’s face, and it showed only terror. She crouched for about a minute by the roadside, seemingly frozen. Nothing passed. Finally, she said hesitantly, “Now?”
“Go now,” replied Lamar.
“Okay …” she responded weakly. She took a step, then paused.
“NOW!” commanded Gree. Pica could feel a gentle rumble. It was still around the corner, but Sage had to start moving immediately.
“Okay …” she repeated, taking a few more steps into the road. The truck’s lights flashed around the corner, and all of a sudden time seemed to speed up. Sage was illuminated in the headlights as the truck hurtled toward her.
“GO, Sage! Now!” Pica cried as the truck bore down on her sister. Sage looked at her and something seemed to unlock. She scrambled awkwardly across the rest of the road and dove into the ditch as the truck roared past. Gree and Lamar followed immediately after.
“What happened there, Sage?” Gree questioned sharply.
“I don’t know. I just … couldn’t move.” Sage walked over to Pica and nuzzled her.
“Don’t let it happen again.” Gree paused, breathing hard. “Okay, I bet you are all tired — let’s go home.”
As Pica followed her mother back, she breathed in the cool, fresh air and felt the sounds and smells of the city fade away. She hadn’t realized before just how lucky they were to live in this oasis — it was calm and peaceful, and they were able to see danger from far away. She wondered, after having travelled through the city for the first time, what it was like for all the other coyotes who lived in abandoned lots and under small bushes in big backyards. She couldn’t imagine them having the chance to lie around in the sun and play with golf balls.
With thoughts of cars, dogs, and raccoons, the pups snuggled deep under the bushes and fell fast asleep.
SIX
CONSTRUCTION
Scruff
A deep rumbling in the earth woke Scruff late one morning as he napped in the sun. He had been in the middle of a wonderful dream, where the forest floor was carpeted with fat squirrels, each one slower and fatter than the last. As he raced toward them, gaining ground, the forest floor began to rumble, shaking him off his feet. His eyes opened and a second later, he realized that the ground was actually moving.
He jumped to his feet, alert. He could feel the rumbling in the ground through the pads of his paws and up into his legs. It seemed like something very large was approaching — something dangerous. He dove deeper into the bushes for cover, his heart beating quickly. The noise was loud, but after a few moments, he realized that it wasn’t getting any closer. He listened for a few more minutes, and, as his pulse slowed, he began to approach the noise.
As he got closer, he was able to distinguish different sounds. There was a screech of metal, a high whirring noise, and a rhythmic low thump. When he arrived at the edge of the forest, he gasped. The normally quiet road that bordered the forest on the opposite side of the hillside and golf course was crawling with trucks and machines! He had never seen anything like it before. They looked like terrifying, large predators with high, craning metal necks and steel jaws. The wheels at the base were as high as a small tree. Humans roamed everywhere, talking to each other and walking around the machines.
Scruff stayed there for hours, trying to make sense of it all. The activity level and noise would rise and fall, but the machines showed no sign of leaving. Then, Jagger was beside him, crouching low and watching. Scruff noticed that Jagger’s ears were pressed back flat against his head in fear and anxiety, and realized that his ears were doing the same thing. He was glad to see him.
“Jagger — what’s going on?”
Jagger looked over at him grimly. “It’s a construction site. They are going to build something. Probably houses.”
“On the road?”
“No. They’re going to build here, where we live.”
Scruff looked around, his eyes wide. “But this is our forest!”
“It won’t be our forest for long. They’ll cut down the trees to make room for the houses.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen it before.”
They were silent, each lost in thought. Scruff didn’t want to voice the question, but eventually whispered, “So what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Scruff had never heard Jagger sound so sad before. Jagger had never talked about his life before adopting Scruff, always brushing off questions, saying he didn’t want to think about it. Scruff wondered if something like this had happened to him before. He turned his head to ask, but saw Jagger’s defeated expression and decided against it.
From that moment on, Jagger declared the forest to be unsafe, and began sleeping under the porch of an abandoned house in the housing development. Scruff didn’t immediately follow him. He didn’t understand why they had to leave so soon — the forest was still fine.
However, over the next month, the machines began to systematically destroy the forest. First, whirring blades felled many of the trees, leaving just a thin strip between the construction site and the hillside. Next, big machines came in and removed the dirt and rocks, clawing a huge, gaping hole in the earth. One day, Scruff watched in horror as they clawed up his family’s old den site. He lay under the cover of a nearby bush and watched as a machine drove right over his den, clearing out all of the bushes and trees. When they had finished, he could barely recognize it. After the humans had gone home, he crept into the area, desperately searching for the hole where he had been born. The new, more powerful smells of the humans and machines had completely obliterated any scents that may have remained, and he was unable to find the familiar landmarks. He sat down and turned his face to the sky, howling his anger and sadness. This was the last connection he’d had to his family, and it was now gone forever.
The next day, the humans put up a large fence all the way around the site, leaving the strip of trees between the hillside and the construction site, but walling off the rest of the area. Scruff realized sadly that Jagger had been right — the forest was truly destroyed. He watched all day as the humans worked industriously, his heart aching. When night fell, he found himself unable to leave the area. He located a small gap in the fencing, biting and tearing at it to create a slightly larger hole, big enough for him to squeeze through. That night, he prowled through the entire construction area, trying to locate any of the places he had once known. Everything was unrecognizable.
As dawn began to light the area and the sun threatened to rise, he left the fenced construction site and padded slowly in the direction of the housing subdivision, feeling completely defeated. Following Jagger’s instructions, he located the house and slipped into the backyard. Tall weeds grew up to his shoulders, and the human smells were so stale that he almost couldn’t detect them. Jagger was curled up in a ball under the sagging back porch, and although he must have been aware of Scruff’s arrival, he did not raise his head. Crouching down, Scruff entered the damp darkness, turning a few times before curling up into a miserable ball, tucking his nose underneath his tail.
Every few minutes, a new noise startled Scruff. There were loud whirring sounds, car doors slamming, and frequent dog barking. It was much less quiet and peaceful than the forest, and it smelled damp and mouldy under the deck. It was slightly wet under his stomach, making him feel cold. He repositioned himself a few times, still feeling unsettled.
“Jagger?”
“What,” was the muffled reply.
“I don’t like this spot. I can’t sleep — it’s so loud.”
Jagger raised his head, irritated. “Then leave — go find yourself a better spot, see if I care,” he snapped.
Scruff was hurt by the sharp words, and crawled out from under the porch immediately, shaking out his fur. There had to be a better place somewhere. He squinted. The sun was fully up now and the streets were full of light. He almost turned back to the porch, but
didn’t want to seem weak, so he confidently headed out of the yard and down the back alley. He would go and find a better spot, and Jagger would be thankful.
He wandered down the alley, trying to stay close to the fences and trash cans, hiding whenever he heard a car coming. He wasn’t used to being out on the streets in the daylight. He stopped to sniff each house he passed, but they all showed signs of recent human activity. The narrow alley opened onto a larger street, and he stepped out, suddenly feeling very exposed. He heard barking and saw a small dog pulling at the end of a leash about a half block away. He grinned, knowing the dog was not much of a threat, but then jumped back as the woman on the end of the leash picked up the dog and started screaming at him. He took off down the street away from them, but then skidded to a halt as a car backed out of a driveway in front of him. The honk of the horn was deafening. He felt like he was being attacked on all sides by strange and unexpected things. He realized that coming out here was a terrible mistake, and fled back into the safety of the alley.
Scruff was too stubborn to return to the abandoned house so quickly, so he decided to head back to the construction site. He found a clump of trees at the edge of the golf course and fell into a fitful sleep, woken every few minutes by a loud thump or screech from the machines.
Night finally fell again, and Scruff returned to the abandoned house, exhausted. When he arrived, he saw that Jagger had already taken off on his nightly patrol. Sighing, Scruff did a quick tour of the trash cans and then returned to the porch, curling up in the darkness. He was still hungry, but was too tired to explore anymore. When Jagger returned later that night, he didn’t seem at all surprised to see the pup there. He crawled over next to Scruff and licked the side of his face.
“It doesn’t seem so bad here anymore, does it?” he asked, grinning.
“It’s tough,” Scruff replied. “Is there anywhere else we can go?”
“Not really. This isn’t the first time I’ve been forced to leave my home …” Jagger paused here, his grin fading before continuing. “Anyway, before I adopted you, I lived alone for a few years. I didn’t have a home territory, because I didn’t really need one on my own, you know? No one to meet up with at the end of the day.” His face was sad. He looked away for a moment, coughing, and then his voice returned to its normal gruffness.
“I’ve been a lot of places. Just about everywhere that is livable has a coyote or a pack that has staked out their home territory already. It didn’t used to be that way, but now it seems like there are more and more coyotes around. It isn’t easy to find new territory. You have to live somewhere terrible or get really lucky. All across the city, nowhere is as peaceful and nice as this area. Around here, it’s quiet, and the humans don’t bother you. Lots of food. You have no idea how good we have it here.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
“Well, I guess we can stay at this house for a while, but more humans will probably move in eventually.… There is another option.” He glanced at Scruff, his eyes narrowed. “We could fight for a new spot. Of course, with the risk of getting hurt, it would have to be really nice to make it worth it.”
Scruff’s eyes widened. He had a good idea what Jagger was referring to.
“You know,” Jagger’s voice darkened, “they are responsible for the death of your family.”
Scruff found himself breathing more quickly, anger mixed with fear. “But there are seven of them and —”
“No one said we have to fight them all at the same time.” Jagger’s eyes glowed in the darkness, and he seemed excited.
Scruff stared at him, and then shook his head. “I don’t know, maybe we should look around the city a bit — you know, you probably missed something. I’m sure there is somewhere we could live.”
Jagger scoffed, “Sure, Scruff. I’m sure we’ll find another quiet forest just down the road.” He shook his head. “No. It’s time you grow up. Either you stand up for what you deserve and take on the coyotes who killed your mother, or it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”
Scruff looked at him pleadingly. “Jagger, I don’t want to leave you.”
“Well, then help me get us a new home territory. Listen, just think about it, okay? I’m not saying that we have to kill them. But there are other … options,” he said, his voice trailing off mysteriously.
“Okay,” Scruff replied quietly. His mind raced as he wondered how he would ever survive if Jagger left him on his own. Jagger turned away from him then, curling up into the dirt and beginning to nap. Scruff lay down, too, feeling cold and alone, unable to sleep.
SEVEN
DONUT
Pica
For a few weeks, Pica continued to cross the busy road and explore the city with her family. Although it was going well, she could feel her anxiety rising with each day. She still hadn’t been able to catch her own prey, and she could see that her parents were getting more and more worried, though they tried not to show it. She had lied a few times about catching something when no one was looking, but she wasn’t sure that anyone believed her anymore.
Things became worse when large machines invaded the nearby forest. The rumblings and musty human smells hung in the air. Now, all that remained as a buffer between their territory and the construction site was a thin strip of trees.
Pica couldn’t stop thinking about this disturbance and worrying about Scruff. She hadn’t smelled him on any of her family’s hunting missions, and wondered if something had happened to him. She wanted to look around more at night, when the machines were quiet, but Gree and Lamar had forbidden the pups to go there, and avoided the area themselves.
Pica’s siblings seemed to accept this situation, trusting their parents to protect them. However, Pica was unsatisfied. If the machines had dug up most of the forest already, how did her parents know that they had finished their destructive march? What would stop them from pushing through the last few trees and into their home?
One day dawned especially hot for autumn. That afternoon, as the sun beat down on the meadow, her fur itched and she felt restless. Even ducking under a large bush and digging down into the dirt didn’t completely cool her off. Looking around, she saw her family asleep, spread out under various bushes around the meadow. Now that they were more than half of their adult size, and the threat of Jagger had passed, the pups were not required to always stay so close to the adults.
Pica turned over and tried to nap for about an hour or so. Hearing an especially loud screech of metal, she opened her eyes and raised her head. Feeling an itch in her back leg, she rolled out from under the bush for a good stretch and scratch, and then stood for a few moments, looking around. Her family continued to nap, undisturbed by the noises. She began to walk slowly, skirting the side of the forest, staying on their side of the neutral path. Using each nostril independently, she focused on the construction site, separating out the individual smells that wafted her direction, analyzing them with curiosity. She picked out sweat, humans, machines, oil, and the musty smell of the deep earth.
Suddenly, sliding in underneath the usual smells, she sensed something that she had never smelled before. It reminded her of human food she had found once on the golf course, but it had a sweetness that she had never before sensed. The smell was very faint and with the next gentle breeze she lost it. It was definitely coming from the direction of the construction site. She took a few more steps, coming to the edge of the golf course and straining to smell what was happening through the trees. She picked up the sweet scent again, and noticed her mouth beginning to water.
Taking one more look around, Pica decided to take a very quick peek. She entered the small patch of trees, threading her way between two large hemlocks. The air was immediately cooler, and the ground was soft under her feet. She sniffed carefully for any signs of Jagger. There was nothing. She did pick up the scent of an unknown coyote, but it was old. She saw a narrow path in front of her and followed it, winding around a few thick bushes. The cooler forest air inv
igorated her, and she suddenly felt very awake. Moments later, she arrived at the edge of the construction site. In front of her was a thick wire fence, and she saw that there was a small opening between two sections of the fence. Trying to get a better view of the machines, she carefully squeezed through the opening and jumped under a large bush on the other side. Squirming forward on her belly, she peered out between the branches and leaves.
Narrowing her eyes against the bright sun, she saw a small, low building in front of her. She waited a few moments, listening attentively, and then trotted closer to it, peering around the side. She gasped at the sudden onslaught of shapes and colours. It was chaos, and it was difficult for her to know what she was looking at. She flattened her ears against her head to try to muffle the screeching. She focused on the machine closest to her. It was a large, metallic beast, bigger than some of the buildings in the golf course, and it was scooping dirt and rocks from a large pile, dropping them into a hole. Farther away, several machines with enormous wheels drove back and forth, emitting a series of shrieking beeps. Most surprising was a mammoth structure rising out of the hole in the earth. Rows and rows of metal bars created the skeleton of a large cube several times larger than the largest building Pica had ever seen. Her parents hadn’t said anything about a skeleton — she would have to tell them about this.
She was about to turn around to quickly return to the safety of the hillside when suddenly that unique, sweet smell drifted back into her consciousness. Flaring her nostrils, she zeroed in on the source. A short distance from her, on the side of the building, was a small set of stairs leading to a door. There, sitting on the bottom step, was a large, sweet-smelling box. She knew she shouldn’t go any farther, but she suddenly had the urge to bring some back for her family. They were always the ones to provide for her — wouldn’t it be great if she could come back and share something new and delicious with them?
Street Shadows Page 4