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“You will never get the Cube,” Optimus Prime says. He yanks off Megatron’s head and kicks him to the other side of the pool. Optimus smiles as he watches Megatron slide into the abyss.
A shadow blocks the midday sun. I turn my head and a pit bull stares into my soul. He sniffs the pool and laps the water. I freeze. I do not dare to even breathe. The rapid beating of my heart rings in my ears.
The pit bull walks into the pool. I scoot to the edge and brace myself for any sudden movements. I squeeze my eyes shut for a couple of seconds. If I do not make eye contact, he may ignore me.
Nope. The Beast takes another step towards me. This can not be good.
I sprint towards the front door. He attempts to chase after me. The Beast slides a few feet before falling face first in the water. I giggle as I smash the doorbell over and over. No one answers. I bang on the door with my fist. “Mom. Wake up.”
The Beast shakes the water off his fur and then leaps out of the pool. He drifts along the grass before galloping towards the front door. I turn and sprint to the side of the house. We cross paths. He turns and runs after me. He is on my heels. I pump my legs faster and faster. The thumpty thump, thumpty thump echoes behind me.
“Billy, where are you?” my Mom yells. The Beast stops and runs in the opposite direction. I halt just short of the chain-link fence and chase after him.
I have to protect my Mom at any cost. What can I do? He is stronger and faster than me. “Close the door,” I yell as I sprint towards her.
With her matted hair, Mom is still wearing her work clothes from the night before. With a horrifying growl, the Beast charges in the direction of the entryway. His fur stands as stiff as a board and his tail points to the neighbors across the street.
Mom squeals like a pig. She attempts to shut the door. The Beast stops her from finishing the task. He nudges his muzzle in between the door and the inside of the house.
I look around for something to use as a weapon. Anything. Something. I yank a brick from the flower garden and throw it at him. It splits in two and crumbles at his feet. He hesitates and then turns his head in my direction. Mom slams the door.
The Beast has a hungry look in his eyes as he snarls. This is a different kind of sound that he used for my Mom. It is the kind of growl a pack of wolves use right before they attack their prey. He is not only going to kill me. He will tear me limb from limb.
I sprint to the side of the house and scale the chain-link fence. This would be so much easier if I had my shoes on. My toes hurt but I force myself to climb. The Beast snaps and growls as I hop over.
His chilling barks ring in my ears. He grabs hold of the bottom of the fence and pulls. Nothing. The Beast tries to crawl underneath. No go.
He charges at different spots along the fence. It rattles and shakes. But it does not give in to the Beast’s brute strength. It seems like he is searching for a weak spot. I should run into the house and watch the show from the bathroom window. But I am mesmerized by his tenacity.
He raises up on his back legs and places his front paws on the top of the fence. We stare at each other. It is like an old western standoff. We look at each other for a few minutes.
“Ha, what are you going to do now?” The Beast steps back about twenty feet and then runs toward me and leaps. He bangs his head on the fence and falls to the ground with a yelp.
I chuckle and smile at him. He peers at me as if to say, “Watch this.” Using his back paws, he climbs the fence one chain-link at a time. He is almost like he is a real person.
I remember my old dog would do the same thing when my Dad used to pull into the driveway. She’d climb the fence and greet him with a warm doggy welcome.
The Beast hops over the fence and smiles. I turn and run.
“Billy, get in here,” Mom says while holding the door wide open. I step onto the patio with a loud thump. I sprint towards her pleading. But I am running too fast. I can not stop.
I run behind the table. My back presses against the brick. I am trapped. Nowhere to go. What am I going to do?
“Billy. What are you doing? Get over here!” Mom screams. I look at her and give her a sinister smile. The Beast charges at me. She grabs a rake that is resting against the house. She swings and hits the Beast on the butt. He yelps as he lunges forward. They make eye contact before she runs into the house and slams the door.
The Beast bares his canines while he snarls. I knock the patio table over and yank out the umbrella. He takes a few steps forward before he reaches a 6 foot wide wall.
He tests the umbrella’s strength. The Beast bounces off like a beach ball. He can not get through my barrier. He darts towards an opening. I turn my umbrella to face him head-on and step forward.
“How do you like it?” I take another step. But then his instinct kicks in. He attacks the umbrella with his teeth and claws. He tears a small hole. I spin the umbrella and back up onto the St. Augustine. He charges a few steps and then stops.
I stare at him for a moment. We look at the back door. Mom smiles, holding my Daisy BB Gun. A BB gun? Really?
I remember me and Levi were goofing around with our BB guns. He shot me in the butt as a joke. It did not even hurt. It felt more like a mosquito bite than anything else.
The Beast snarls and runs in Mom’s direction. She drops the BB gun and slams the door. He rams his head against the aluminum. It does not budge. He charges the door over and over. It does not move. The Beast stops.
He turns and glares at me. I laugh. This is interesting. It is obvious he has never played tag. “You are it,” I say as I drop the umbrella and run to the closest chinaberry tree.
I jump and grab a branch that is about five feet off the ground. I scamper up the tree. The Beast runs and leaps with his paws extended.
His claws scratch at the limb. I lift my feet off the branch and place them against the trunk like a monkey. He slides along the trunk leaving a trail of claw marks.
The Beast backs away a few steps and circles the tree. He barks at me as if I am an annoying squirrel.
I jump and grab a branch that is above my head. The limb is too thick. I can not hold on. My fingers slip. I land on the branch below me. I stagger forwards and backwards before I regain my balance.
The Beast scratches the top of my foot. “Ow.” The blood oozes to the surface and drips onto the branch. His right lip curls up as if he is attempting to smile. Wow. He is excited that I am drawing blood.
I jump and grab hold of the trunk and climb about a foot before I seize the branch above me. The Beast’s barking echoes up the tree.
I peer at him and smile. If I can find a good spot, I will be able to stay up here all day. I walk along the trunk as I pull myself on top of the dead branch. Cracking vibrates through the limb. Soft at first and then it gets louder and louder.
I look around in a frizzy state for another limb to cling to. Nothing within reach. The branch breaks. I fall. I land on my feet and then I roll. The Beast charges towards me. I scamper away.
A sharp pain rings through my left leg. I scream and then collapse.
“Help, help,” I yell at the top of my lungs. The Beast loosens his grip for a moment before he bites down again. This time, he sinks his teeth into my flesh even harder. I shout for help one more time.
Tears overflow my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I can not stop my shaking. The pain is like nothing I have ever experienced before.
When I was eight, my Dad ran over my arm with the car. What I am experiencing now is a hundred times worse.
The Beast finds a fresh spot on my leg and shakes his head from side to side. He thinks he is playing a game of tug of war. He will tear my limb off. What am I going to do?
I raise my right foot and kick him in the side of the head over and over. The Beast stops and glares at me for a few seconds. He steps forward. Uh, oh. I probably should have not done that. He looks like he is coming in for the kill.
Blood drips from his jaws as he hovers over me. My tongue licks the blood from my lips. I raise my arms and squeeze my eyes shut. I wait to be mauled in the face.
Police sirens echo in the distance. They get louder and louder. Did Mom call the police? I open my eyes and grin. I may not die after all.
Thump thump vibrates beneath the ground. The beast yelps as he shakes his head from side to side. The officers are holding two empty cans of pepper spray.
I laugh. What a Summer Day this has been! What am I going to do tomorrow?
