"tick... tick... tick..." There was something familiar about that noise. "tick... tick... tick..." "A clock? No..." SR strained his muddled thoughts to identify what it was that he heard. "tick... tick... tick..." He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. No good. The answer didn't come. "tick... tick... tick..." SR slowly began to open his eyes. It was dark and his vision was a smear, but he could see a whole bunch of things sparkling directly above him. "Stars? No, that's not quite right..." Slowly the sparkling things began to take on a more clearly defined shape. There was something red mixed with them. He looked downward and saw something white with more of the red stuff on it. "A cloud? No, that's not right either..." He closed his eyes again and concentrated on what he had seen and what he could still hear. "tick... tick... tick..." Something wasn't right here. SR shook his head in confusion. "tick... tick... tick..." The smell! Something was wrong with the scents registering themselves in his nose. His thoughts were beginning to align themselves, and he quickly began categorizing every odor his olifactory organ was sensing in the air. "Pine trees... leather upholstery... motor oil... gasoline... plastic... crumbs from that sandwich I ate last week... dirt... nylon carpet... the soda I spilled yesterday... sweat..." And something else. Something very strong and very fresh. What was it... "tick... tick... tick..." "Blood!" His eyes shot open and he stared at the red pool on the ceiling. "My blood!" Panic stricken, he struggled to escape, but found himself constrained to his seat. "The seatbelt!" He remembered strapping himself in before... before something important that didn't seem to matter now. Not bothering to unbuckle it, he turned sideways in the seat and allowed his legs to slip free. He landed lightly on the right side of his head and shoulder, but was on his hands and feet in an instant. The passenger side window was completely gone and SR darted through he opening as fast a he could propel himself. Fifty feet away, panting hard from the fright he had received, he felt compelled to stop and look back at the wreck. A shard of glass had imbedded itself in his right palm. Without thinking or looking, he raised his hand to his mouth and extracted the offending splinter. He let it drop from his mouth as he lowered his hand back to the snow. The Jeep would never drive again. Its green sides were severely mauled and twisted, components under the skin showing through where rocks and trees had taken their toll. It lay on its back like a great, green, slain dragon. One of the tires was missing, and SR could tell from the shape of the casing that the front axle was broken. All of the windows were smashed out, and the roof almost completely caved in. The engine made a quiet ticking noise as it cooled to the temperature of the frosty November air. Inside, SR could see from the light of the instrument panel that both airbags had deployed, probably upon impact with the bottom of the canyon. The windshield had transformed into a sea of broken glass lying strewn on the roof, mixed with the all-too-obvious blood of the vehicle's only occupant. One tail light and one headlight still functioned. Shaking uncontrollably, SR followed the path of the latter as it shone, like a beacon, directly on the point almost 150 feet overhead where both Jeep and driver had flown off the road. It was clear that the vehicle had tumbled numerous times before coming to a stop in its current precarious condition. "Dear God," he thought, "how did I survive that?" His nerves snapped and he jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air when a loud "whuffing" noise manifested itself in his right ear. When he again had all hands and feet on the snow, he turned to see a slightly perplexed vixen standing directly beside him. Her head was level with his. For the second time that night, everything went black. SR's first sensation this time upon returning to the world of the conscious was a tickling sensation in his right ear accompanied by the "whuffing" he'd heard earlier. Unlike before, however, his mind snapped instantly to attention, and he recalled the events that had occurred before he'd passed out the second time. Jumping to his feet, SR froze when he saw the now-somewhat-annoyed vixen standing to his right. She paused for a moment, staring into his eyes with a look of playful contempt. Seeing his fear, however, her expression softened, and tail began swishing back and forth again. She continued her task of cleaning the remaining blood off SR's face and ear. SR was too shocked to move until she had finished. When she was satisfied with her work, she turned and and trotted toward the forest to the right. After about twenty feet, she noticed that SR wasn't following. Turning to face him, both exchanged inquisitive stares. After a minute of contemplation, her expression again softened and her tail took up its happy rhythm. She smiled. (SR hadn't thought that foxes could smile.) Opening her mouth ever so slightly, she said, "Welcome home." At the same time, SR was acutely aware that her words had also sounded exactly like, "Rrrff yii-ip." In that instant, everything fell into place. He let his gaze drift back to the dilapidated Jeep. He noted how the frame around the passenger side window was severely crumpled. The remaining opening was much too small for a grown man to fit through. He saw the bloodied tracks leading away from the vehicle. Tracks obviously left by a four-footed creature with small paws. He followed the tracks until they led to a set of black paws directly below him. His paws. Each was tipped with four fine black claws. His paws. When he flexed them, they flexed. When he lifted them, they lifted. His paws. He followed the black fur up his forearm as it melded on the outside into a fine red and on the inside to a creamy white. Turning, he looked behind himself to see his rear quarters. He saw his very vulpine hind legs accented by his very vulpine tail. The same red and black fur covered both hind legs and paws. At the tip of his tail was the characteristic patch of white. It waited in shocked silence for SR's reaction. In complete consternation, SR returned his gaze to the vixen, who was still merrily swishing her tail. "How...," ("whii-iiine...,") was all that came to his lips. As a response, she lifted her head to look skyward. SR followed her cue. The sight that met him filled him with an indescribable joy, the magnitude of which SR could never have imagined until that moment. Each star was beaming with a rapture impossible to achieve on earth. Their faces radiated a warming love that eradicated every bit of hurt SR had been forced to endure that night. Tears matted his facial fur (SR also didn't know that foxes could cry), blurring his vision and causing the stars' bright tears of joy to meld with his own. Returning to look at the vixen, both tails were thrashing wildly as she turned and walked into the forest. SR stole one last glance heavenward, whispering, "Thank you" ("yerrrf-grrrp"), before trotting off after his mate. Copyright © 1998 by SR Foxley. All rights reserved. Please contact the author if you have questions regarding the publication of this document.
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