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.”
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