Burned

by Ellen Hopkins

  Pattyn, you know I love

  you, and I want to make

  love to you so much it

  hurts. But hurting you

  is the last thing I want.

  Please don’t say yes

  just to make me happy.

  It has to be something

  you want to happen too.

  “Oh, Ethan, I do. I thought

  I’d be scared, but I’m not,

  with you. The only thing

  that worries me is getting

  pregnant. I could never

  have an abortion. And

  I don’t want to have a

  baby. Not now. And my

  dad is crazy. Crazy

  enough to kill us both.”

  We’ll be careful, Pattyn.

  I would never expect you

  to have an abortion. I do

  want children someday,

  maybe even with you, but

  now is not the time. And

  I would never put your life

  in danger. Not from

  your father. And never again

  from a mountain lion.

  Never Say Never

  But that story is yet to come.

  We had probably walked

  two hours when a cloud of dust,

  heading our direction,

  signaled probable rescue.

  Aunt J braked the old Ford,

  jerked her head out the window.

  There you are, thank the Lord.

  I was hoping I wouldn’t have

  to call in the troops. Search

  and Rescue hates these hills.

  Seems Aunt J had once taken

  a tumble, not far away, on a

  wooded bluff. Broke her leg

  in several interlocking places.

  Stan didn’t even start to worry

  until it got dark. By then it was

  too late to start a search. I spent

  a cold, helpless night up there.

  Which led us to the reason

  for our own dilemma. Ethan

  told the story, minus the naked

  part, about the cougar.

  Don’t like the sound of that.

  Tomorrow I’d better go up

  and check on the herd. I’m

  afraid of what I might find.

  Journal Entry, July 1

  What an incredible day.

  So much happened, it’s hard

  to write it all down, so here

  are the highlights, in

  semichronological order:

  * I rode Paprika, first in the paddock,

  then on the trail.

  * Ethan and I came really, really

  close to making love.

  * We would have made love,

  except for the cougar.

  * I splatted the cougar with

  a rock, right in the side.

  * The horses bolted, so Ethan and I

  had to walk most of the way home.

  * Aunt J is afraid the cougar

  is killing calves.

  * Tomorrow we’ll ride up and

  check on the herd.

  * After dinner, Ethan and I talked.

  Talked and kissed. Kissed

  and touched. Touched.

  Why is that so much

  better now that he told

  me he loves me?

  He loves me.

  And all I can think of,

  lying here in bed,

  despite all that happened

  this incredible day,

  is I wish

  Ethan was lying next to me.

  After Paprika

  Poncho was a piece of cake,

  a rather bland slice. I actually

  felt envious, watching Aunt J

  sashay along on Paprika.

  We hit the trail early and rode

  at a quick clip, anxious to locate

  the herd. Howie and Maizie scouted

  ahead and barked an alarm around noon.

  The longhorns were scattered

  across a grassy hillside.

  Belying the otherwise peaceful

  scene, buzzards circled overhead.

  Aunt J urged speed. Paprika

  and Diego responded. Poncho

  and I did our best, but as usual

  couldn’t keep up.

  When we finally caught them,

  Aunt J and Ethan were kneeling

  beside a tattered calf carcass.

  Only the belly was missing.

  The cat isn’t killing for food,

  observed Aunt J. He’s killing

  for fun. And it won’t stop

  until he’s stopped.

  Ethan Agreed

  Some cats get a thrill out of killing

  just to hear an animal scream.

  Some people are the same way,

  said Aunt J. Gotta stop them, too.

  You can’t lock up a lion, Ethan

  said. It will take a bullet.

  I’m afraid you’re right. Better round

  up a hunting party.

  Ethan said he’d draft a couple

  of friends and come along.

  The sooner the better. Early

  tomorrow, if possible.

  Think we should call Fish

  and Game first? Ethan asked.

  Too many questions will slow us down.

  Besides, the outcome will be the same.

  Part of his turf is private land,

  Ethan said. We can start there.

  Aunt J nodded. No one needs to know

  where we finally bring him down.

  I wasn’t about to get left behind.

  “Can I go too? Please?”

  I know you shoot for sport, but

  have you ever hunted an animal

  wilier than you?

  I Had to Admit

  That rabbits were about as

  wily

  as it got. But I wanted to

  hunt

  that cat with a desire so

  bold

  it surprised me. The new

  Pattyn

  was more than a coffee

  addict,

  more than a budding

  sex fiend.

  She was a blossoming

  thrill seeker,

  enchanted by each new

  high

  to happen her way.

  Tracking

  a mountain lion,

  senses screaming,

  no guarantee who

  the victim,

  or the prey, would

  ultimately

  be? The new and improved

  Pattyn

  was definitely up for that.

  It Wasn’t Hard

  For Ethan to find a crew

  eager for a cougar hunt.

  He and two friends arrived

  early the next morning.

  Mike was tall and round,

  Mark was wiry and short,

  and they both carried custom

  firearms, guaranteed deadly.

  Ethan had a well-used 30.06.

  Slide-bolt actions and large-bore

  barrels only vaguely

  familiar, I felt the odd man out.

  Aunt J handed me a 30-30,

  showed me how to load

  the chamber, and warned,

  Careful now, it’s got a kick.

  The gun wasn’t as heavy

  as I’d feared, and it had a great

  little scope. I figured I could

  deal with a bit of a recoil.

  She only carries six bullets,

  so you’ll have to make your

  shots count, said Aunt J.

  You won’t have time to reload.

  Six bullets? No problem.

  It would only take one.

  We Took the 4x4s

  Drove to the site of Ethan’s and my

  debauchery, set off on foot in the direction

  of the mountain
lion’s hasty departure.

  We crossed the stream, located his tracks

  on the muddy bank. That’s a jim-dandy

  cat, observed Mark, squatting to take a better look.

  With no proper trail, we scrambled up over

  granite boulders, slipping on slides of shale.

  The 30-30 thumped against my ribs.

  The top of the hill was almost treeless,

  only solitary evergreens to break

  the gray monotony.

  Mike nodded his slightly balding

  head. Lion country, all right. You

  can see clear to Caliente.

  A slight exaggeration, but disquieting

  nonetheless. Still, I felt no fear.

  There was safety in our numbers.

  We’re looking for scat, prints, maybe

  his leftovers, Ethan explained.

  Spread out, but stay in each other’s sight.

  We all fell silent, knowing the cat

  would tune in to unusual sounds.

  Softly, we moved apart and forward.

  It wasn’t easy, searching for clues

  across an expanse of desert stone.

  I bent low as I walked, squinting for signs.

  July sun pounded my back, raised

  a sweat to sting my eyes. Finally,

  I stood to mop it away.

  Where had everyone gone?

  I Didn’t Want to Shout

  I knew they couldn’t be far.

  I was still moving north,

  assumed they must be too.

  Glancing around, I discovered

  the source of my dilemma—

  I had wandered up a narrow channel.

  It cut between monolithic slabs

  of ancient granite, gray

  and time-polished and tall.

  It wasn’t a dead end. I could

  see clear through to the far

  side, so I stayed on course.

  I walked slowly, hugged

  the shade of the giant rocks.

  Still, I rained perspiration.

  Suddenly, I sensed movement

  above my head. I looked up,

  saw nothing. Heard no sound.

  A shiver of fear traveled

  the length of my spine, though

  my eyes could find no reason.

  I scooted back against one side.

  Opposite me, gravel trickled

  down the face of the rock.

  Something was up there,

  all right. Should I run?

  Freeze? Scream for help?

  Not twenty feet away, the cougar

  slunk into view, assessed

  his prey, snarled a promise of battle.

  I opened my mouth, but the shout

  stuck fast in my throat. A single

  thought entered my brain. The rifle.

  The cat snarled louder, maneuvered

  himself into a better position as

  my right hand reached for the gun.

  I willed myself not to panic,

  lifted the rifle, tried to sight,

  but my shaking arms denied me.

  Above and slightly in front of me,

  the lion, all tooth and sinew, tightened

  his haunches for the pounce.

  My finger squeezed, the rifle belched,

  the bullet ricocheted off the rock,

  well below my would-be assassin.

  He didn’t even flinch as he leaped.

  I’m going to die, I thought, my eye

  catching a glimpse of four-inch claws.

  Suddenly, a loud crack shook

  the rock walls. Ethan’s shot caught

  the cat midair, dropped him at my feet.

  I stared, horrified, as he moaned

  and twitched. I swear he stared

  at me as he stuttered his last breath.

  My arm ached from the rifle’s recoil,

  my ears rang from the echoed report,

  and my heart pounded in my brain.

  I watched the cat’s life ebb away,

  and didn’t know whether to feel

  relief, satisfaction, or remorse.

  Ethan Sprinted Toward Me

  I think he was yelling something,

  but I’m not really sure.

  Because right about then, the ground

  reached out and grabbed me.

  Then everyone came running,

  yelling and asking questions:

  What happened? You got him?

  Are you all right?

  Mark and Mike took charge

  of the cat corpse.

  Aunt J and Ethan took charge

  of me, or wanted to.

  They tried to help me to my feet,

  but I shook them off,

  insisted I could take care of myself.

  Like I’d really proved that, hadn’t I?

  I’m Not Sure Why

  I felt so angry, but on the ride

  home, I didn’t sit plastered to Ethan,

  and I barely said one word.

  Finally, he asked,

  Okay, what’s wrong?

  I shook my head. “I just can’t

  believe how stupid I was. If

  it wasn’t for you…”

  He reached over and pulled

  me closer. Everything’s okay.

  “No, it’s not. I mean, I’m

  grateful to you for coming

  to my rescue, but…”

  Ethan turned and looked

  me in the eye. But what?

  “But what if you hadn’t

  been there? I should have

  been able to take that shot.”

  It was a hard shot, Pattyn,

  even for someone with experience.

  It was a hard shot, yes.

  But, “I wasn’t paying attention.

  The cat got the drop on me.”

  One thing you have to remember

  when hunting predators…

  “Yes?”

  It pays to be a better predator.

  Ethan Didn’t Stay

  For dinner that night,

  sensing my need to be

  alone.

  I know it may sound

  weird, but looking

  death

  square in the eye

  made me question the

  unknown.

  What happens after

  we exhale our last

  breath?

  Do we really see

  an otherworldly

  light?

  Does God send

  angels to guide us

  home?

  Or when our eyes

  close, do we forfeit

  sight?

  And will our earthly

  spirits forever

  roam?

  The Questions Ran Deeper

  For me, struggling

  with Mormon doctrine.

  According to scriptures,

  long pounded into my brain,

  I was not worthy

  of the Celestial Kingdom—

  the highest level of Heaven.

  I had not learned the secret

  codes to open that door,

  and I had no Mormon

  husband to let me in.

  And did I want the Celestial

  Kingdom, anyway, where

  women are relegated

  to polygamy and procreation,

  gestating new souls to fill

  earthbound bodies?

  Would I truly become a goddess—

  albeit a baby factory goddess—

  should I actually find my

  way to the Celestial Kingdom?

  Would my spirit be happier

  wandering the Terrestrial

  Kingdom—planet Earth—

  forever?

  Would the almost-sins I’d

  already succumbed to condemn

  me to the Telestial Kingdom,

  the place where scumbags go?


  Was Heaven something

  different from all of the above?

  Had that cougar killed me,

  where would I be now?

  I Lay on the Bed

  My head a jumble

  of questions that I knew

  would find no answers

  until I actually died.

  Fear closed in. Fear

  of the unknown.

  Fear of what I’d

  been taught to be

  unshakable truth.

  Fear of what I hoped

  would prove to be

  unspeakable lies.

  My very foundation shook,

  an earthquake in my gut.

  I was all new, right?

  So why did the old Pattyn

  surface now?

  I loved Ethan so intensely

  I just might die without him.

  But what if loving him

  damned me to death,

  no chance of life after?

  Was loving him now

  enough to turn my back

  on eternity?

  Journal Entry, July 2

  I could have died today,

  probably would have, except

  Ethan shot the cougar who

  had decided to make me lunch.

  That made me wonder if there’s

  one Heaven or three kingdoms,

  or anything at all after we die.

  I have no idea what to believe.

  I asked Aunt J what she believes.

  She said she’s come to think

  there is a God, but He isn’t like