Chapter Three
My shift at the bookstore was over. I should have been walking home, but instead, I was sitting on a bench in the park donated by Nadezhda Lev. It was a lovely little park, even in the winter. There were dark, wrought-iron fences tangled with vines and flower beds that, in warmer times, were probably filled with bright flowers.
Shivering from the cold, I stood up but I didn’t walk towards my little squatter’s cottage. Instead, I headed down the street that led away from the park and into a small forest that sat on the western edge of town. I had seen the hiking trails before but hadn’t yet explored them.
I was going to walk around for just a little while. I wouldn’t let myself get too far into the woods. I had no plans for someone to find my frozen corpse after the snow had melted. I just really, really didn’t want to go back to the nest of blankets and the fire pit, it was too cold. Too sad. I was sure if I went back there I would just sit in the corner and cry.
I had spent the day replaying Anton’s offer in my head. He had offered to take me out and show me around. My stomach was rumbling from hunger and I was cold, but I still said no. He was hot and I was desperate, it should have been the perfect combination, but my pride had stopped me. I wasn't that desperate, was I?
No, not yet. I could make it a little bit longer. I had a job and I was making money. Soon I would have enough to afford renting a real apartment, one with electricity and water and heat. I wasn’t ready to start going out with men just for a hot meal. I could make it a little longer. The winter had been hard, but winter wouldn’t last forever. Spring would arrive, I could make it.
I walked down a long path, my feet crunching on the hard earth. Thick gray clouds covered the sky diffusing the bright light of the sun into a pale glow. It was getting darker, it would be night soon and then I would have to return to my shanty.
The path in front of me opened up to a wild field ringed with trees. Bright red POSTED signs were stapled to the trees. The field was desolate in the winter, the grass was brown and trampled from the snow. There was a large, decrepit barn in the middle of the field and, having nowhere else to go, I made my way to it.
The wind picked up, whipping my hair around my head. Dusk had fallen, darkness was taking over the field, but I didn’t stop. The huge, three-story tall barn loomed in front of me. Portions of it were missing and I could see the inside through several large holes. I stepped through one of the larger holes and found myself in the barn.
There were rusted tools lying on the ground, bales of old rotten hay decaying in the corners. I wasn’t even sure why I had come in here. The barn had just given me an excuse to walk somewhere, now I would have to turn around and go home.
There was a ladder built into one wall that led to a second floor. The beams looked sturdy and free from rot. I put one hand on and lifted myself up. Carefully, I made my way up to the second floor. From up here I had a full view of the rapidly darkening field. It stretched for miles, far into the horizon. It was dotted with trees and more decrepit buildings.
It felt good being up here. I was away from the concerns and the worries that haunted me when I was on ground level. From up here, everything was far away and hazy in the distance. Something moved in the field, it was darting around the edges, jumping out from the woods and scurrying about before diving back in.
It was too far away for me to see what it was. But it was big, lithe and fast. It looked like a big cat, like a lion. But they didn’t have lions in Maine, it must have been something else. The wind whipped up, pulling my hair towards the opening in front me.
It was almost like I could see the wind carrying my scent. The dead grass ruffled in the wind as it raced towards the animal. Even from this distance I could see the lion lift its head and sniff the wind. It turned towards the barn and lowered itself into a crouch and then sprang up and raced towards me.
Shit! I thought in a panic. I raced for the ladder and clamored my way down. Why did I come here? What was I thinking? Once back on the ground I looked through the hole in the barn trying to see where the animal was. What it was.
For a moment, I saw nothing. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my own ears. Maybe I could make a break for it. I moved to the hole I had come in through when I heard a rustling outside. I froze when a low growl reached my ears. I turned my head and for a moment, my heart stopped.
It was a lion, a huge lion. It had a tan coat and a thick shaggy mane blowing about in the wind. Its hard yellow eyes saw me and then it was lunging and scratching at the hole. I stumbled backwards as a huge paw lashed at me. The hole was too small for the big lion to get through, but there were other ways into the barn.
I was trapped. I quickly turned around and raced back to the ladder clamoring up to the second floor. I just pulled my feet up when the lion came charging into the barn. It was huge, massive. I couldn’t believe how big it was.
It saw me. It looked up at me and snarled. Quickly the lion paced around the room. He jumped up on a hay bale that collapsed underneath his weight. He let out a low, grumbling roar and pulled himself free of the rot. He looked up at me and let out a roar so loud that my ears rang.
I scrambled back away from the ledge. I fell down into a small ball, pulling my knees up towards me as I fought back tears.
Why was there a lion here? How was there a lion surviving a Maine winter? This was insane, this was impossible. I was going to be one of those, you won’t believe what happened to her stories. Mauled to death by a lion. It sounded like a horrible way to die.
It was still down there. I could hear it snuffling and growling. Could it get up here? It was too high for it to jump, but if it could find its way up, I would be screwed. It was getting darker and colder by the second.
I had no cell phone. I had no way to get in touch with anyone. I had no options. I stared out the open window and searched for any signs of human life. There was a full moon out and the field below me was bright.
“Hello!” I called out into the darkness. “Help! Is anyone there! Can anyone hear me?” My voice enraged the lion. I could hear him thrashing about below me. I dared to glance over the ledge where I could see him scratching on the ladder trying to make his way up. Our eyes met and his nostrils flared and he bared his teeth at me.
I spent the night huddled in the corner of the barn. There was some hay on the landing, dry, thank God. I gathered it up in a pile and then wormed my way inside. The hay was a slight insulator against the cold. I pulled as much of it to me as possible, praying for warmth.
The lion never left. I could hear it pacing the floor below me. Sometimes I would get brave and peak over the ledge, but it was always waiting for me. He would snap his jaws, snarl and roar.
I was freezing. Shaking from head to toe. I pulled my limbs free of my clothes and pulled myself into a tight ball, wrapping my clothes around me. My teeth were chattering and tears were freezing on my cheeks. It was so, so cold and morning was still so far away. I managed to close my eyes for some fitful minutes of sleep, but then the cold stinging my limbs would awaken me.
The lion never seemed to sleep. It paced below me and licked its lips. It was waiting for me and it looked like it was willing to wait forever.