"Please, please just take me home." I had bawled those famous last words into my pillow like a three-year-old baby.
Single-handedly, I had ruined my friend Waldo's week-long Uinta backpacking trip. The hot shame still burns in me from watching his father rip apart our camping spot at 2 am.
"Let's go," he shouted. He didn't even help me lift my pack of gear onto my back. With the camp spot clear, he grumbled like a pissed-off drill sergeant as he marched away from his camping dream. Waldo and I could hardly keep his pace, tripping over rocks and roots during that three-mile hike back to the car. The trees blocked the meager light from the stars and moon, making the trek almost impossible for two young kids trailing behind a man so angry that his spit foamed around his mouth. I still have a scar on my chin from a fall during that miserable night. It had taken me two years to return to playing at Waldo's house. I couldn't handle the disappointment I had caused his father.
"Come on, dude, you have to go," Waldo said to me five years later. "The scouts are planning an epic backpacking trip. It won't be the same without you there."
All the fear from the failed trip entered me, and my stomach wrenched as I turned away. I remembered how I couldn't sleep that night because I knew bears lived in the Uintas. With every sway of a branch and twig snap, I had been gripped by paralyzing fear. Although I was now fifteen, I hadn't grown any braver.
I didn't want to remind Waldo of what a chicken I had been, but what choice did I have? I had vowed never to go camping again. "You don't remember me ruining the last camping trip I took with you?"
Waldo let out a long sigh as he stood to his feet. "You were just a kid. I forgive you." He picked up his lunch tray and headed to the garbage can. I didn't want to follow behind him. I just wanted the conversation to die, but dutifully, I finished my warm milk from the soggy carton and met him at the garbage can. I dropped my Styrofoam tray into the bin as the smell of rotten tuna casserole blew into my face. I covered my nose and followed Waldo out of the cafeteria.
Before we parted for our classes, Waldo turned to me. "So, are you going?"
A girl shoved her elbow into me as she rushed by. I stumbled into Waldo and then stepped back from him. The girl's odor of baby powder lingered on me. I watched her disappear into the crowd as I replied to Waldo, "I can't. I am sorry."
"You still afraid of wild animals?"
I shrugged, still not looking at him.
"Listen," he said as he straightened his backpack tighter on his shoulders. "I will come over this weekend and sleep in your backyard. We'll practice camping. That way, you can learn to sleep through the night. Then, you will go, right?"
A locker slammed behind me, and I jumped. "That is silly."
"Doesn't matter. We are going to teach you to face your fears. I will be there Friday after Lacrosse practice." I tried to give him an easy smile, but my shame flushed my cheeks. Waldo's backyard plan made me feel like a baby. Honestly, I wished he'd camp without me and leave me alone.
"What time?"
"I don't know, around seven or eight."
"But it's already dark by then. You really want to put up a tent in the dark?"
"It'll be good practice." Waldo waved at someone across the sea of bodies.
"At least, let's do it Saturday so we can put the tent up in the light."
"I can't. My family is going to the circus."
"I didn't know they were in town."
"Hey, Waldo," a cute girl waved as she walked by. She twirled her hair and gave him a smile of ecstasy with her playful eyes and her turned-up smile. Why didn't anyone smile like that at me?
Waldo returned the smile, then turned to me. "Friday, you will learn to be a man. Then maybe the hotties will smile at you."
"Um," I said, but he had already walked away. My muscles tightened as I stood there watching him. Sleeping in my backyard wasn't going to make me a man.
DING! The bell rang in my ear.
"Crap. I am late!"
*
I sat at the kitchen table, mindlessly shredding apart a napkin. I looked at the clock. Eight fifteen. Maybe he had forgotten. A plate of overcooked ramen sat barely touched. I had put too much seasoning on it and couldn't finish the salty plate of mushy yuck.
I heard the front door open and picked up the napkin pieces, squeezing them into a ball. "Hey, Mrs. Landford. Where's Matt?" Waldo no longer rang the doorbell, always letting himself in.
"He's in the kitchen," I heard Mom reply.
"Just tell him I'm grounded," I whispered.
The noodles jiggled on the plate, much like Jello, as Waldo bounded into the kitchen like a herd of elephants and shook everything like a 7. earthquake. "You ready!" He walked around the side of the table and leaned into me. His solid muscles poked through his tee-shirt, making him the envy of the male locker room. It wasn't fair; he did nothing for an athletic physique. Meanwhile, I did a hundred daily push-ups and looked like a string bean.
It took us almost an hour to set up the tent. "I thought you were a pro at this," I said as I rubbed my frozen fingers together. Everything on me had gone numb, either from the cold or anxiety.
"Says the dude, still afraid of his shadow," his lips spread wide and revealed a silver molar on the left side of his mouth. I might not be able to put a tent up, but at least I had perfect teeth!
"Am not."
We crawled into the tent, and the smell of musty canvas hit me, reminding me of five years earlier. I wanted to bail.
Waldo stretched out in his sleeping bag. "This is the life. If my mom let me, I'd sleep out in a tent every night."
The crinkly sleeping bag sucked away the last of my heat, with its cold plastic clinging to me. Waldo was crazy. Why would anyone want to sleep in a tent when there was a perfectly warm house with a comfortable bed?
We chatted for several hours until Waldo's snoring vibrated the tent.
Great! He fell asleep, and I was stuck awake.
I tossed and turned, but eventually, sleep grabbed me and pulled me in until…
GRRR.
It sounded like a bear!
"Matt, stop it. This is only your imagination. There are no bears in the city," I quietly said to myself.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
It sounded like something was moving toward the tent.
"It's just a cat, you idiot," I told myself.
SNAP!
"Perhaps a dog."
The thing snarled again, and the vibration moved into my head. Only a thin canvas separated me from its razor-sharp teeth.
Suddenly, the tent shook, and the low growl sounded like a bear running its claws across the outside of it. No cat growls like that.
I ducked my head deep into the sleeping bag as my thermostat reached 1,000 degrees.
GRRR. The growling grew louder as the tent shook more violently. "That is no dog."
I couldn't take it anymore.
"Waldo, Waldo," I shrieked, shaking him. "Wake up. There is a bear."
Waldo's glossy eyes opened. "Huh?" He looked lost.
"There is a bear outside the tent," I whispered.
"Dude, stop. There is no way." His blank expression turned angry as his eyebrows tightened together.
"Just listen."
SILENCE.
"Go back to sleep, you dork." He closed his eyes and then pulled the sleeping bag over his head.
The pungent smell of musk and ammonia hit me.
"That ain't no smell of a dog," I said, shaking Waldo again.
Waldo started coughing. "Dude, just stop," he grumbled. He peaked out of one eye. "Dude, did you piss yourself. That's nasty!"
ROAR. A giant claw tore through the tent.
Waldo sat up.
"See, I told you!" I said, almost relieved to have the evidence return. Waldo's face turned white, and then every muscle in me seized up.
"There is no way that can be a dog; what do you think it is?" Waldo asked, scooting closer to me.
I found comfort in having him next to me, and I reached to the bottom of my sleeping bag. I pulled out a can of Bear Spray.
"I have bear spray," I said, putting my finger on the trigger. The can shook in my hand.
"You brought bear spray to sleep in your backyard? You are an idiot," he said, yet his shoulder muscles didn't look as tight as he studied the can.
Everything shook again, and the creature made another pass with its claws. The tent ripped apart this time, and a massive lion jumped in with us.
A lion!
AAHHH! We screamed at the top of our lungs, reaching octaves that an opera singer couldn't hit. There were no whites in the beasts' eyes, just black gleams. The lion took its massive paw and batted at the side of Waldo's head. Thankfully, it hadn't used its claws. Waldo fell over and curled into a ball. The lion stared me down as its warm breath covered my face, smelling like rotten meat. I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming, and I pressed the trigger, and a spray of noxious chemicals blasted into the lion's face. I drenched its fur and hoped most of it got into his eyes. He shook his massive mane and let out a yelp. I kept spraying until the entire can emptied.
The fumes from the bear spray filled the tent, and Waldo cried out in pain, and I joined him. Our eyes burned with an intensity I was sure would leave us blind. I squeezed my eyes tight, yet doing so trapped the liquid in my eyes. It felt like they melted behind my lids.
We rolled around the tent, forgetting the lion. The fumes burned my nose, throat, and lungs. I can't imagine a military ambush of gas feeling worse than that. I brought my knees to my chest and whimpered.
"This hurts," Waldo moaned as he rolled around.
"Worst pain ever," I agreed. We moaned and cried for an eternity until I heard Waldo say, "I think the Lion is gone." I snuck a look out of my burning eye. The pain must have chased him away. I guess it was better to burn our eyes than become a lion's dinner. A knot of fear loosened in my chest. Blood smeared all over the sleeping bags, pillows, and tent sides. The lion must have broken skin on Waldo's face, though it didn't seem to be pouring blood. I guessed that was a good sign.
Somehow, I pushed myself onto my knees, crawled into the house, and submerged ourselves in running water for an hour.
"Dude, was that for real?" Waldo asked, wiping a towel across his face.
"I guess. I mean. What was a lion doing in my yard?" We crawled into my bed, and instantly, the turmoil wiped us out.
It seemed like only seconds later the light flipped on into my room. "So, you guys were too scared to make it through the night?" Mom asked. "What did you do to my bathroom? There is water everywhere."
The alarm clock on my nightstand said eleven am. I guess we had gotten some sleep.
"A lion ripped into our tent," I said, covering the bright light that stung my already irritated eyes. Couldn't she flip the switch off?
"Why are your eyes so red!" Mom shrieked. "Have you guys been smoking dope?"
"No, Mom. A lion attacked us."
Mom put her hand on her hip. "As if."
Waldo shifted next to me. "Seriously, Mrs. Landford. A lion ripped into our tent. Matt sprayed it with bear spray."
"I am calling your dad," she said. A low monotone mumbled out of Waldo as Mom continued. "I am disappointed in you boys. I thought you were smart enough not to do drugs." Mom didn't conceal her angry eyes as she stomped out of the room. I clasped and unclasped my hands.
Waldo sat at the edge of the bed. "Your mom doesn't believe us."
"Would you?" I asked. He did look like someone high on drugs with his angry, bulging eyes. His greasy hair draped against his white face.
"You look like one of those druggies downtown, you know, the ones that wander around like zombies."
"Back at you," he said.
After a long day of doing chores as punishment for Mom, Waldo called me. "You'll never believe what happened?" I set the broom down and listened to my friend. Honestly, how much work did my mom expect me to do? I ran my toe through the dust pile I had collected as Waldo spoke.
"You mean something more fantastic than a lion coming into my backyard?" I would have to sweep all that up again, but I didn't care. As long as I was sweeping, my mom couldn't give me any more jobs.
"Well, more like why the lion came into your backyard. So we went to the circus, but it was closed. Apparently, a group of animal activists had gone there Friday night and let out all of their animals. They released every single one. The elephants. The monkeys. The tigers-"
"And the lions," I finished for him. I wiped off the bottom of my toe on the underside of the couch and jumped up. I knew it was a lion in our tent. Despite all the unbelieving adults, I had no doubt. This sealed our testimony!
"Yes, and the lions."
I took a long breath. "So, does your dad believe our story now?"
"Yeah, he does. And he called the news, and they want to see your tent and interview us."
"Hot dog!" I said as I did a little dance in the pile of dust.
*
The following Monday, we stood at my locker. "Hey Waldo and Matt," said almost every hot girl as they walked by. I uttered a high, loon-like laugh, then covered my mouth. I would have to figure out how to act smoothly and not like an idiot.
"We are celebrities," Waldo said, poking my ribs. "Everyone saw us on the news!" I ran my hand through my hair and stood a little taller, much like Robert Downy Jr. would do. I imagined myself as Tony Stark.
"That we are," I said, hitting him back. I could get used to celebrity status.
Waldo rubbed his hands through his thick brown hair and gave me a sinister smile. "So, you still going camping with me and the scouts?"
My stomach dropped. "Aren't you done with camping?" I turned to hide my horrid expression. I wasn't good at a poker face.
"Dude, that wasn't camping. That was sleeping in your backyard."
"I don't know," I said, coughing nervously into my sleeve.
"Hey, Matt," another girl said, walking by. She looked like a goddess as she smiled at me. At me! I stood tall, imagining myself every bit as hot as Tony Stark. It must have worked because her face flushed, and she turned away.
"Listen. You have nothing to be afraid of. If you can chase a lion off with bear spray, then you can chase off a bear. Aren't you sick of being scared?"
"Hey, Matt," came another sweet voice.
We were celebrities because I fended off the lion. Me! Waldo had done nothing. It was all me. And because of that, people noticed me.
I liked the new me.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"So, you coming?"
"I'll have to buy another can of spray."
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The Night the Lion Came to My Backyard
by Stephanie Daich
