by Becky Norman
“It is done,” he whispered, pulling her back in against him.
She lay back down and wrapped her arms around him.
“I love you,” she said softly in the dark.
**********
When the paramedics arrived at the location from which the anonymous call had been made, they found a man lying face-down in the gutter, the blood from his head wounds trickling into the sewer. He was still breathing but was very weak – no doubt from loss of blood – and despite their best efforts, they couldn’t pull him from unconsciousness during the ride to the hospital. The man was striking in appearance, with brilliant white lines around his eyes and elongated ears that looked almost inhuman. The EMTs at first thought his countenance might be significant to his injuries or indicate some type of condition but they soon ruled out any link.
The doctors and nurses remarked on his appearance, too, as well as at the ghastliness of the wounds – the head surgeon on staff even requested they call the zoo to ensure no bears or tigers had been reported to have escaped. The zoo, however, said all was well. The injuries remained alarming and baffling.
They reported to the police the concern they had over an anonymous caller alerting them to the victim, considering the nature of the wounds. Questions continued over what could have caused such injuries. The patient’s cell phone was dusted for prints. No results were forthcoming. A half-hearted investigation ensued, but without much to go on, it became a matter of waiting for the right tip or comment to be made on the streets.
In the meantime, the patient was stitched up, given a substantial amount of blood through transfusion, and moved to a jam-packed ICU – with the dramatic accident that had happened by the university this evening, they were full to capacity.
He was hooked up to various machines to monitor his progress and left alone while they tended other cases. No family or friends had been notified as of yet and so he remained alone, tucked into a corner unit of the room with a curtain pulled around him.
The medical staff would not have seen the slim, beige caracal slide down the corridors, pausing at various curtains to have a sniff. They would not have noticed the cat’s search for a particular human, nor would they have detected the rocking of the curtain as he at last found the partition he was looking for and slunk inside. He jumped up on the end of the bed and curled around the feet of the patient with a soft sigh. There he remained.
At several points during the night, the victim twitched as though caught up in a drama playing out in his sleep. The caracal would raise his head and look, agitated, at the man while this went on, but soon things would calm again and the man would sink back into a more gentle sleep. The caracal would put his head back on his paws and wait.
In the deepest part of the night, the man jerked so hard in his nightmare that he pulled the pulse monitor off his finger. The caracal got to his feet and leaned over the prone form, watching him thrash from side to side for a few moments before once again subsiding.
The caracal sat down, still observing. He cocked his head, listening to something not heard by others in the hospital.
The end came between the infinitesimal pause of inhaling and exhaling. A fraction of a second and the light was quietly, gently snuffed out – like a candle wick pinched between two fingers.
The medical staff would not have seen the four jaguars trotting through the hospital corridors, aiming with unerring precision to the bed in the corner. The lead cat parted the curtain with its large head and spotted the caracal standing over the body. The jaguar opened its mouth, panting with a deep, breathy grunt and bared its teeth briefly.
The caracal jumped silently down and the five felines swung into a trot as they departed, fading away into the night. There was no time to linger; they had many miles yet to cover.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The author would like to thank the following for their wisdom, experience, and sharing of gifts: Clinton Anderson, for his brilliantly-easy explanations of training horses; Neale Donald Walsch, for his enlightening Conversations with God books; George Lucas, for constant inspiration and his famous brother and sister, Luke and Leia; the real Jeret and Lynta for the use of their names (if they’re actually affiliated with a lynx and jaguarundi, I’ve yet to be told about it); and last but certainly not least, my husband Dave, my sister Brenda, and my dear friend Jennifer, without whose support, encouragement and suggestions this novel would never have been completed. Namasté.
Want to explore further?
For details on the life of Tecumseh: “Battle of the Thames (Moraviantown)”; “Panther-Across-the-Sky”; “Tecumseh at Moraviantown”; PBS’ brilliant series “We Shall Remain” is also available here.
There really is scientific documentation on the healing properties of a cat’s purr: “The Cat’s Purr for Healing”; “Bone Healing/Restorative ‘Purring Frequencies’”
About the Pari: “Spirit Animal - Snow Leopard”;
Please help protect the snow leopards by contributing to one of the following:
Snow Leopard Conservancy
The Snow Leopard Trust
World Wildlife Fund
Robert Frost’s “Dust of Snow” courtesy of poemhunter.com
Cover designed by Becky Norman; thanks to Thomas Grau for the original photo of the perseids (public domain).
Please visit Becky Norman’s homepage for news, updates and links to other fiction and non-fiction articles.
