In the wild, stress and fear may cause you to make bad or impulsive decisions.
When I open my eyes the next morning, I’m surrounded by yellow fur, infused with the smell of the swamps.
It takes me only a second to jerk up into a sitting position. I rub my eyes. When I notice the panther sleeping, I smile.
I, Grace Wells, slept next to an endangered Florida panther.
All night long.
I almost want to cheer. I mean, who gets to have spend-the-night parties with animals? Let alone these gorgeous creatures. The perk of being part of a nature lovin’—and dwelling—family.
I stroke the panther’s head. Dad would totally freak out if he knew I was this close to a wild Florida panther. That I’ve spent almost twelve hours with one. In the house. As far as he was concerned, the closer the encounter, the better. Within the proper safety parameters.
Though I’m not 100% positive this measures up to those.
The panther slowly opens her eyes as if her lids are heavy weights, probably still groggy from the medicine. She stretches her front legs. Daggers pop out the ends of her paws and scrape across Birdee’s favorite rug.
I move to my feet fast and hop onto the couch, putting a safe enough distance between us. Just in case she’s not as thrilled with her bedmate as I am. From a distance, I check out her wounds while she’s not paying attention.
They’re no longer goopy, but they still look disgusting. As I watch her lick her damaged paw, I can’t help but wonder what crappy zoo she came from. Maybe Uncle Bob’s, though it’s still a couple miles from here. If it’s not his place, that means another zoo is hiding somewhere along the Everglades border.
The panther sits with a regal look on her face and stares at me as I flip on the T.V.
Birdee scuffles in the room, wearing her robe and slippers. The straw hat is perched on her head, ready for the morning chores of feeding rescued birds in her homemade aviary. Come to think of it, the woman always has that hat on. Probably sleeps in it and dreams of all the Peteys she will help the next day.
“Here kitty, kitty!” Petey squawks from his perch.
The panther flinches and lays her ears back on her head. She hisses once and pushes to her feet. The large cat is much bigger than I previously thought. She paces in a circle. Even though her paw is injured, she isn’t limping too badly.
I stay on the couch, a safe distance away. “Oh! You want to eat Petey? Is that it?”
When Petey hears my threat, he flies toward the kitchen and says, “Nothing to see but feather and bones.”
I roll my eyes. That bird is too much.
The panther moves toward me.
Instinctively, I scootch back in the seat until the couch practically swallows me.
She hobbles closer until she’s sitting right in front of me. She sits and rests her head on the edge of the couch like my dad’s dog, Bear, used to do. She gives me the same pathetic look Bear did when he was hungry. He would sit for hours and stare at me, waiting to be fed.
I reach out and touch the soft bridge of fur between the panther’s eyes. Her face relaxes and within seconds, she purrs loudly. Only it sounds more like the sputtering motor of a broken down car.
“You’re a big softie, huh?” I say, rubbing her nose. “Not a mean bone in your skinny little body. We need to pack you with some food...great, now I sound like Birdee.”
I slowly stand as to not shock the poor animal and inch toward the kitchen. The panther limps behind me and watches as I search through the fridge. I toss last night’s leftover steak and some bacon onto a plate. Surely Rex won’t mind sharing his leftovers.
And what he won’t know won’t hurt him.
The panther sniffs the air and perks her ears.
I rest the plate on the ground and back away a few feet. I do not want to come between this cat and her food.
The panther limps over to the plate and smells the food a few times.
“Beggars can’t be choosers, cat. Eat up.”
As if she understands me, she laps down the food.
“Hallo, mooi een!” Rex walks in the kitchen and stops when he sees his sirloin gobbled up in one big bite. “So much for steak and eggs for breakfast.”
“Sorry, guests get to eat first. Even furry ones.”
“Guess I’ll settle for some bacon then.”
“Oops,” I point to the dish. “She ate that too.”
He smiles and grabs his baseball hat off the rack in the corner, pulling it on his baldish tan head. “Guess I’ll have to starve for the well-being of an endangered species.”
“The world thanks you.” I glance past him. “Birdee’s outside with the birds.”
“That woman never sleeps. She’s always doing something. Chickens and birds are already fed. They eat before we do.” He thumbs over his shoulder. “She’s in her office talking to the wildlife guy. They’re coming out this afternoon to pick up...the cat.”
“Panther...and she has a name.”
“Really?” He pours some of the old coffee from yesterday and heats it up in the microwave. “Dare I ask?”
“Sylvester.” I say, trying not to smirk. I’ve never been that creative with animal names. My dog was Bear, and my bear was Simon.
“As in Tweety Bird?” Rex asks as he slurps a sip of steaming coffee.
I smile. “No other.”
He dumps in several packets of sugar as if it’s a replacement for water. He watches the panther licking the empty plate. “Isn’t this beauty a girl?”
“Hmm, good point. I forgot that part. Guess that means Garfield and Felix are out too?”
He slurps the coffee from the alligator shaped mug. “You watch cartoons? Figured they weren’t cool anymore.”
I shrug. “Guess I’ll stick to Cat.”
“Ahhh, a throwback to the old days, Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I like it. Classic and minimalistic.” Rex grabs his bag and heads toward the door, patting my shoulder as he passes by. “Evidently, I gotta bring home more bacon. Take care of Cat.”
I smile and call after him, “Then you better get lots o’ bacon!”
As he walks out, Petey performs a fly-by that is way too close to the panther’s head.
The panther perks up and growls, swatting the air with her huge paw and clipping the tip of Petey’s tail. A gray feather floats to the ground. Instead of flying away like a normal bird afraid of its historical enemy, Petey performs a quick U-turn and attacks.
Cat hisses and yowls, ducking as he skims by her head one more time.
“Petey! Stop! Go away!” I try to shoo him off, but the panther is now between him and me, and she’s still growling.
The panther turns her head for a split-second, giving Petey enough time to peck her on the head like a warplane dropping bombs. Then he coasts back up to his safe perch.
The panther is startled and races toward the door before I can blink.
Petey squawks as the panther runs by. “Petey won.”
The panther crashes through the screen as if her leg and neck were never injured and sprints outside.
By the time I reach the door, I watch her leap into the tall grass and disappear into the Everglades.
“Cat!” I run after her. “Cat!”
Rex is standing by his truck. He calls after me. “Grace. Wait up.”
I stop at the edge of the yard and breathe heavy while he catches up to me.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“After Cat,” I breathe out each word.
He frowns. “In your bare feet? Not exactly the choice of hiking footwear for these parts.”
“Oh,” is all I can say.
Birdee hobbles up to us. “Good Lordy me. What’s all the hoop-la-la? Can hear you all carrying on inside.”
I keep my eyes on the thick border. “Cat’s gone. Petey attacked her.”
“Stupid bird!” She curses her pet, now sitting on a branch high above us, and throws her fist at the air.
“I should stuff my pillow with your feathers!” She yells at the sky.
“What should I do?” I say, panting. “She won’t make it out there alone.”
Rex grabs my shoulders. “She seemed fine to me. Don’t worry so much. That panther knows this place better than all of us put together.” He walks to his truck, already running, and climbs in. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“He’s right, Chicken.”
I shake my head. “No Birdee, he’s not. I saw her limping this morning. The adrenaline probably took over after she freaked out. I have to go after her.”
“Just wait. Let me go call the wildlife place back and see if they can send someone out right now.” Birdee walks me back to the door with her arm around my shoulders. “I’ll be right back. Maybe they can help us find her. Plus Dylan’s on his way, too. He and Sadie wanted you to hang out with them today. They’re coming here any second. Okay?”
I nod. “I guess. Okay.”
Birdee heads back inside to make her call while I stand outside, staring at the tall grass blowing back and forth.
A loud growl sounds off in the distance and then all goes quiet. I’d know the sound of that horrible screeching anywhere. A panther’s call is not something you forget after you hear it once. The tone of it is like no other.
I race back inside and grab the phone to call Dylan but he doesn’t answer. I slam down the phone. “Shoot!”
Cat is close. If I hurry, maybe I can catch up to her. With her leg, she can’t have gone too far. I pace a little and bite my nail. That itchy impulsive feeling—that’s been missing for months—slowly returns. I have to find her. I don’t know why, but I just do. Maybe I’m afraid she’ll run to Bob’s place.
Instead of racing off on a whim, I take a deep breath and think it through. I jot down a note saying where I’m going and quickly mark a small map, informing Birdee of my tracking plan. That way, Dylan can come after me as soon as he gets here. He and Sadie will find me quicker than anyone.
I grab my hiking boots and backpack complete with the necessary supplies and my knife. Like a fireman, a hiker’s pack is always ready to go at a moment’s notice. I shove a walkie-talkie in the bottom as a safety precaution. Not many cell phone towers in the Glades.
Before Birdee can return to stop me, I dart out the back door, jog across the yard, and slip into the tall grass.
Sometimes I don’t always do the best thing. I know that.
But I try to do what I believe is the right thing in the moment. Which is not always very popular or void of any risks.
I check my watch coordinates to stay on point. This time, I’ve got everything I need to be safe. What’s the worst thing that could happen? I’m convinced Cat is not dangerous, so my only danger is maybe getting a little lost. But not for long because Dylan is coming. Only my ego will take a direct hit, because Dylan will tease me forever.
My goal is to make sure I find Cat before Bob does.
And find her before it gets dark.
The Everglades isn’t the best place to hang out. Especially after the lights goes out.