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Cougar

Michael Fitzgerald

    Bobby “Cougar” Devins sat on the chipped cement steps of his five room Sixties ranch home. He was sucking the life out of the remaining inch of his camel cigarette. His wife Polly was inside icing her lip from a recent backhand delivered by the “Coug” as his less then a handful of friends called him. The Coug’s thirteen year old son Kyle was barricaded in his room under headphones and a book. Kyle was a smart kid who skipped a grade and was now first flute in the high school orchestra.
    Bobby thought that playing the flute was a faggot thing to do. “You’re just practicing for sucking dick later on, if your not already doing it.”
    Moments before in the kitchen Polly questioned Bobby’s purchase of a new power saw.
    “You know the frig has been in need of repair for over a month.” Bobby’s reaction was a no look backhand to Polly’s face bouncing her head off the side of the refrigerator. Polly slid to the floor in slow motion landing on all fours; she shook and scurried across the floor like a mouse looking for a hole in the wall. The Coug grabbed her by an ankle dragged her back to a sitting position on the linoleum floor.
    “In time. Everything in its place, the frig is next.” He took her face in his hands, “you got to trust me.” Polly nodded submissively. “That’s the girl” Coug purred, “that’s the girl I love.”
    Kyle entered the room seeing his mother’s face.
    “Why daddy why” he pleaded. Bobby turned slowly, seeing a new victim to feed his rage.
    “You don’t understand what it feels like to be a man and be disrespected. You little cunt stop your whining and go to your room and suck on that dick of a flute.” The Coug made a move toward Kyle. The boy tried to stand fast but quickly scampered like a confused squirrel in the middle of the road to his room.
    Anger was the aura Bobby existed in. His daddy beat him regularly and without reason. “I’ll make a man out of ya if it kills ya. Not me I know who I am.”
    And on some level of Coug’s consciousness he loved his daddy for making him who he was.
    Bobby worked for Williams Lumber. He did some outside work for them to make extra money, outside meaning illegal. Coug would enter a restricted area of old growth two hours before sunset and an hour after the Forestry service patrol. Bobby armed with his new power saw would cut down as many trees as he possibly could. A crew of William’s outsiders would quarter and truck the wood out a day or two after.
    Bobby pulled himself to his feet and entered the house. Polly caught a quick glimpse of him and slammed the bedroom door. Bobby opened the frig and plucked a Schlitz from the top shelf. Kyle’s door opened as Bobby popped the top of his beer and closed just as quickly. Coug scoffed and bolted through the front door.
    Bobby got in his old Tundra truck and revved viciously on the plot of dirt where most would have a lawn. He gazed back at the picture window seeing his family entwined like refugees stranded at sea, then he peeled out spewing dirt in all directions.
    “It be so much easier on them if they just did what I say, stupid cunt and little faggot son. Jesus got no common sense. Think you’re gonna win.” He laughed to himself as he pulled into the fire lane.
    Another fifteen minutes and he’d hide his rig in some overgrown brush and hike into the restricted area.
    Bobby found a sweet spot for the truck and pulled his new power saw from the back. Looking at the saw: “we’re gonna do some business this evening.” He hiked about two miles outside of authorized logging and found a grove of old growth.
    “This here is a goldmine” he whispered to himself and proceeded to take down as many trees as he could.
    Bobby was in the fever of work, his arms and cheeks covered with shavings as the trees fell cooperatively. He saw himself as a professional athlete who was in the zone.
    Suddenly a cougar came out of the brush and startled him, as he was about to fell a large Douglass. Bobby stepped back his heel catching a root sending him into the line of the falling tree. Coug struggled to reverse his fall and in doing so creased his upper left thigh near the artery with the power saw, his right wasn’t as lucky, getting pinned under the giant fir.
    Bobby lay there face to face with the cougar. The power saw still active but out of reach, his right leg felt crushed and immovable. He thought of his daddy and what he would do. Coug started cursing out the cougar like he was family. The cougar approached very cautiously never taking its eyes off Bobby. Coug fought to stay conscious as blood that looked like motor oil pooled up on the ground and his right leg lost all feeling.
    The cougar came closer, so close Bobby could smell the gameyness of its breath. He stared into the eyes of his nickname and the cougar moved on as if he wasn’t hungry or interested. Bobby screamed only to hear his voice echoed back to him. He watched the puddle of blood swelling and the power saw gyrating just out of reach. He thought of Polly and Kyle standing in the window with their arms wrapped around each other looking scared. “I’m scared” he said to himself as the sun was swallowed by the surrounding hills.

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