Page 10 of How Does It Feel?

Chapter 5

Destroying Angels

Callie

For as in shape as I was from all of the hiking, I was still just out of shape enough that the monthly refill was every bit as hard as it had been the month prior, and the month prior to that. One of these times, it would get easier, I just knew it.

It was still early morning. The beautiful birds chirped and sang their happy wake-up call of tweets and twirls. The grass held drops of dew along with the orange blanket of a rising sun. The unmistakably crisp morning scent clung to the air like a promise, a whisper of fresh starts and pine.

I was attempting to quickly refill the various animal feeders I had placed across my property upon moving in. The fifty-pound bag of corn felt closer to three hundred pounds after all was said and done. I had finally arrived at the large black barrel resting upon the far back edge of my property. Without the off-roaders to drive like at the park, I had felt the burn of the short hike more than I cared to admit.

“Holy stars, I need to start working out,” I reprimanded myself as I tossed the feeder’s lid aside and ripped open the woven plastic bag of feeder corn.

I needed to be quick if I was to be back at the house in time for Cliff to pick me up for work. A call from Don at the repair shop last night solidified any regrets I held for spending every penny of my paycheck on a field microscope and getting a “deal of a lifetime” on my old used truck. I should return the microscope. I knew I ought to, but would I? Heck no, I wouldn’t. Because that baby was going to help me solidify my place among the Lepidoptera Migratory Society (okay, can we just agree to call it LMS from here on? That’s quite a mouthful.) and follow my dreams.

After dumping the bag of dried corn into the feeder, I replaced the lid. It locked into place, and I swatted away the barrage of dusty corn smoke that clouded my vision. All the deer feeders were stocked, the bee feeders hung, the hummingbird feeders refilled, and the bird feeders all loaded. Everything should be fed. All that was left was to quickly water my bird baths. I turned to head toward the back of my house, where the spigot was located, when I stilled.

No more than seven feet from where I froze stood the most beautiful red fox.

It was small but proportionate, its slim body giving the cute fluffy illusion of a house cat or pet dog. A large fluffy black-tipped tail, so full of fur it almost looked out of place, hung from the back of its smooth orange-red body. Small black paws completed the adorable ensemble of fur leading up to its fluffy head and pointy black ears.

My breath caught in my chest.

The air felt like it would rip through my sternum if it couldn’t locate an exit from my body. This fox’s features were unlike any fox species I knew, and I knew them all. A fluffy white patch of chest fur was shelved by a slyly pointed V-shaped nose. Black whiskers and a wet black nose at the end. Normal enough. But it was the eyes. Something about the creature’s eyes seemed to speak to me in a language I wasn’t fluent in. It watched me completely flat and motionless. Those golden eyes never once wavered from mine. They weren’t just golden, they were every shade of yellow and brass ever known. The sharp eyes of liquid honey held mine, and for a blip in time, I felt a sense of familiarity, but the feeling was gone before I could pull anything further from it.

Foxes were not generally a predator of humans and were known to be quite skittish. The only time anyone came into contact with the sly fox was usually as it tried to steal their chickens or had gone rabid.

The dappled morning sun had begun to grow stronger and brighter. The amber glow shifted ever so slightly, or had the wind in the treetops picked up? Whatever the reason, it had caused the morning sun to shine directly on the back half of the beautiful fox, where another startling discovery awaited.

A million tiny fragments of gold seemed to reflect and sparkle from its fur as if golden shards of glass blanketed the mysterious fox. How could that be? How was the light producing that effect? On fur no less?

My knees trembled furiously, and I was forced to shift my body weight to lock them in place so I didn’t fall over. My small movement had already happened when I quickly froze. Afraid my movements would scare this . . . thing away. I was breathing so intentionally that the act caused my eyesight and head to shift slightly. I immediately reprimanded my body for having such an aggressive pulse.

I watched and waited. Silently readying myself for the exhale I would take when the fox would inevitably scamper off, startled by my movements in a flurry of red.

Instead, the fox sat.

It sat like a proper, elegant fox would sit as it wrapped its large fluffy tail around the side of its round black feet. The sunlight blanketed every hair on the magnificent creature’s trim body, and every one of those hairs glimmered in the light as if someone had thrown a jar of gold dust on it. I reached up slowly and rubbed my eyes to refocus them. Surely it would run from my movements now? What was this thing? A sparkle of awareness gleamed in the creature’s beautiful eyes as it tracked my body, starting at my eyes and trailing down to my feet slowly.

I would have bet my entire house with everything in it that the fox smiled at me. Like it was laughing at me. My mouth fell open, unsure whether to be startled or in awe of the beautiful creature.

It took a step forward. It was coming closer.

My heartbeat began to pick up its pace. What should I do? Was I crazy? Was this some new fox genus?

Was I crazy?

Could foxes sparkle and smile at you?

Was I imagining this?

I was about to find out. The fox took another slow step toward me.

“Callie, do you need any help?” Cliff’s loud voice rippled through the woods as its owner walked into the clearing.

I looked from Cliff back to the fox, readying myself to shout at Cliff to be quiet and look, but it was too late.

The fox was gone. Only the tiniest bit of black tail remained visible in the far-off brush.