An Excerpt from “Tracks” Spencer Williams Community Writing Center Participant Spencer Williams is a former Marine Corps officer, Vietnam War veteran, and teacher with international experience. A father of twins, he has worked as a carpenter and builder/designer of houses. “Collette, Fred needs something Chad has recently worn for tracking. Can you find something?” “I’ll get his pajamas, “she said as she sprang into action like a car shifting into high gear. Flint’s presence and this task had the desired effect of calming Collette. Also, she knew about Fred’s reputation for locating lost kids. Although Collette was unable to say what direction Chad took, Flint was able to determine it by circling the house and finding the freshest tracks. Then he shared Chad’s pajamas with Fred and gave the “seek” command. His dog eagerly headed in the same direction as the tracks. With much sniffing close to the ground, Fred captured the minute scent particles matching Chad’s PJ’s. Flint checked his compass so that he could find his way back if it got dark and then jogged to catch up to Fred. An hour into the search Flint discovered a track that sent chills up his neck. He recognized them as those of a very large mountain lion, which crossed and then followed Chad’s tracks. It walked unhurriedly, and with purpose, occasionally stopping as if observing the surroundings. This discovery put an understandable fear into Flint’s steps as he became more wary—all senses alert as he knew how quick and deadly these cats were. Their agility, speed, and power were used to catch and sever their victims’ spinal cords by crushing their necks. Although his job necessitated a sidearm when in the field due to bears, wolves, wolverines, and mountain lions, Flint was not overconfident about even a .44 caliber Magnum’s ability to stop this lion before it seriously hurt him, and he wasn’t like Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry character. Before moving on, Flint unsnapped his holster, took out his pistol, and checked the five shells with the hammer resting on the empty chamber. He knew the difference between shooting at a stationary paper target and a fast-moving, life-threatening one. He was tempted to turn around and return to safety. Then he remembered his sister’s distress and what a great friend Chad was. He wouldn’t be able to face Collette or face himself in the mirror, if he chickened out. So, gun in hand, he soldiered on down the game trail with Fred leading the way. Another fifteen minutes went by in this relatively quiet forest with only the wind-rustled leaves whispering through the pine trees. Were they sending encouraging messages he wondered? The air was nippy, hinting at the winter that would soon follow. The light was fading with the sunset, and it wouldn’t be long before he would have to stop his search as it would be too dangerous with that lion on the prowl. His chances against that predator were bad enough in daylight. Finding his way back with the help of his compass was also going to be a dangerous challenge in the dark. Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, and he swiftly turned to face it. The lion was in the air in an attempt to pounce as Flint shot and ducked under it. Bouncing up quickly, he faced the snarling, wounded cat, which was even more dangerous now that it was hurt and angry. With only a second’s hesitation, two shots in quick succession found their heart-stopping target, and the lion died before hitting the ground. Shaking from the adrenalin rush, which always followed a scary fight-or-flight event, Flint had to sit on a nearby fallen tree. It was then that he heard a weak voice calling, “Help.”
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Writing@SVSU
