Kitsune
“Today was a good day,” I said.
Eddie glanced at me, made quick eye contact, and then returned his attention to the road. His lips turned upward. “Yes it was,” he said.
“Thank you,” I offered.
“For what?”
“For taking me out to the park. It was the perfect way to spend a Sunday.”
A pink hue flushed through Eddie’s face and his smile widened. He moved his right hand from the steering wheel to my leg. I rubbed the back of his hand with my fingertips, my nails gently scratching his skin.
“We lucked out. The weather was beautiful,” he said and he pulled his hand back to the steering wheel. “We should be back in Chicago in a couple hours,” he said. “I’m in no rush,” I smiled. I shifted my weight and nested myself in the seat’s fabric, my head resting near the passenger side window. I watched the guardrail. It was a silver stream, flowing alongside the vehicle; a looping image. It lulled me to another place.
I fell into dream and saw images flash through my subconscious: I am sitting in grass / my favorite skirt / a blue sky / a box pills in my hand / Eddie is staring at me / I can’t open the pill box / Hey, c’mere / Where? / a pair of scissors / Let me try these / I cut my hand, but not too bad / I can’t open this box / Let’s go inside / K, gimmie a minute / I’m alone / I’m outside a grey cinderblock building / I’m in a stairwell, walking down / a cellar, dark and dry / /I feel intense fear / I hear a loud noise / a high-pitched screech / the ground pulls away to the left / I see a blur of pink light.
At first, I didn’t know what was happening. My head knocked into the glass and then it jerked forward. My chest felt tight as the seatbelt pulled against it. I think I screamed -I’m not sure. My arms locked out in front of me and my hands grabbed the dashboard. The vinyl of the car’s interior took shape around my longish fingernails. I squeezed until all ten nails snapped at once and my hands recoiled.
I felt my chest heave.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelled.
I sat there, my shaking hands in front of my face.
“Jonna, are you okay?” he said at a lower volume.
“Uhm… Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. What happened?” I looked out the window and found the car parked on the road’s shoulder. The guardrail, reflecting an azure tint, was unmoving.
“You were asleep. Something ran in front of the car. I hit an animal.”
“Oh my god. Are you okay? What did you hit?”
“I don’t know.” Eddie adjusted the review mirror peered into it. “It looks like a dog or something.”
I dropped my fingers, slowly. Eddie’s hand moved forward, and I reached out to grab his palm, but he was moving for the radio. I only noticed that music was playing after he turned the volume down. “Are you okay?” I asked him again. “I’m fine,” he said. He opened his door and exited the vehicle.
I grabbed my sweater from the backseat and got out of the car. I looked over the top of vehicle, to Eddie, and he said, “Please wait for me,” and I nodded. He walked to the front side of the car, inspecting it. I glanced behind us and I saw something in the road, shadowed by dusk. I touched the spot of my head that hit the glass. I stared at my fingers and saw thin lines of blood outlining my broken fingernails. I looked back to the shape in the road and I began to walk toward it.
“It doesn’t look like any damage was done to the car,” Eddie said. Then I heard him rush his pace and move alongside of me. “Hey, wait up!” he shouted.
“It was a fox,” I said.
The animal lay on its side, its mouth open and its tongue hanging out. The fur on its hind legs looked wet. Its coat was matted with blood and gravel. As we approached, I saw the fox’s heaving chest.
“It’s still alive,” I said. Eddie slowed and brought his arm out in front of me.
“We should get out of here,” he said.
“No,” I answered. “The fox is hurt.”
“We can call animal control.”
“Just let me check on it.”
“Jonna, those things carry rabies, let’s just go back to the car and call animal control.”
Ignoring him, I moved past his barricade arm and knelt next to the fox. It stopped panting. The animal closed its mouth and lifted its head and looked at me. Its tongue licked around its nose. I tilted my head and I bent closer. I lifted my hand, slowly, and felt the fox’s cold nose touch my skin.
“The poor thing.”
My fingertips, raw and sensitive, felt good as they moved behind the animal’s ears and began to massage the creature’s warm, soft fur.
“Are you crazy? Don’t touch it.”
Eddie grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand from the fox with a quick motion. As he did this, he yelled as if in pain. He let go of me and yanked his arm back. He held a clenched fist inches from his face. The curls of his hair fell forward and spiraled over his forehead. “It bit me,” he said. I looked to the animal and its head was, again, lying on the pavement.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Why did you have to touch it?”
“Are you okay? Let me see your hand?”
Eddie flew forward and kicked the fox. The animal yelped.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
“The fucking thing bit me,” he said, enraged. Eddie brought his foot up over the fox and slammed it down on the animal’s rib cage. I yelled and I pushed him away from the fox and he turned and I felt a blunt force against my mouth. I was dizzy and I was disoriented.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”
“Go away,” I told him.
“I’m really sorry. That was just instinct. I didn’t mean it.”
“Go away.”
“That fucking animal bit me. Why’d you have to go near it?”
I massaged my jaw.
“I’m sorry, Jonna,” he said.
“Go away,” I said.
“We’re in the middle of Indiana. I can’t just leave you.” He came toward me, arms out, as if he was going to hug me. “I love you.”
“Get the fuck away from me.” I felt my throat rattle as hissed the words at him. It burned. I was surprised by the volume. “Go.” I pointed to the car. He sighed and he whispered the word “bitch” and he turned and he left. He sat in the car for a minute and then he drove away.
I knelt down on the road, next to the fox, and I sat on my ankles. I tasted copper in my mouth and I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek. I turned my head away from the fox and spit onto the road. I heard the fox groan and I watched it push its front paws into the ground, trying to stand. It pulled itself towards me and it rested its chin on my lap. I put my hand on top of the animal’s head and ran my fingers through its fur. I did this for several minutes, until the fox died.
I slid my legs free and I stood up. My head was bowed, facing the dead fox. “Goodbye,” I said. I straightened my body and looked to the horizon. I sighed. Then I began to walk along the side of the road, kicking the gravel beneath my feet.
