Stupid Coyotes

Hi. My name is Jimmy. Jimmy Bronson. I live over on Market street but I spend most of my time right here in these woods. Well the days anyway. Mom says I can't sleep out here at night yet. She says she's worried about coyotes. I don't think that's the reason though, because I've never seen one. I think she just doesn't believe I'm old enough. But I really am. I'm eleven and a half. Besides, I've even captured a criminal. Well, not exactly. Corey and Lyle helped too, but I was the one who called the sheriff.

Lyle's hair is blond and he has big muscles. Plus he's the tallest boy on our block. Corey is almost as tall but his hair is brown and he doesn't have big muscles, just a lot of blubber. Lyle's lived here as long as I can remember. Corey just moved here a couple months ago. Lyle's my best friend. Corey is Lyle's. Dad says I should be glad they even let me play with them. They're both thirteen so I guess he's right. Anyway, they get to sleep out here and I don't.

Two weeks ago, we were playing space monsters right over there, by that hollow tree stump. Like usual, I was the monster. Corey had captured me and he and Lyle were discussing exactly how they were going to destroy me.

"Hey Cor," Lyle said, waving his plastic light-sabre in front of my face. "Should I shoot him with my phaser or zap him with my light-sabre?" Lyle always had the coolest toys. His dad was a radio-ologist or something. His mom didn't even have to work.
Corey held my arms behind my back. "This is a Gorleck. Phasers don't work against them. Better use the light-sabre."

"No fair!" I called out. "You're holding me too tight." He clutched me even stronger. I almost started to cry.

Lyle walked over and grabbed Corey's hand. "OK, that's enough. He's dead. You can let him go now." Corey gave me a final, painful squeeze and pushed me away. I fell down and skinned my knee, but it felt so good to be out of his grip that I didn't care. I did care about always having to play the monster though.

"How come I always gotta be the monster?" I challenged, keeping away from Corey in case he tried to grab me again. But he didn't grab me. Instead he smiled and whispered something to Lyle. Lyle smiled for a second too.

Corey waddled over and stood above me. "So, you wanna be the hero, do ya?" he asked, tossing a softball from one hand to the other like he thought he was Jim Palmer. That was way stupid, though. He was no Jim Palmer. Jim Palmer wasn't a fat bully.

Wishing I was a little taller or older, I thought about knocking the softball out of his hands and showing him just how much of a hero I was, but instead, I simply nodded. I didn't feel very much like a hero anyway. Hero's weren't supposed to feel so scared. I wondered who was going to be the monster. I hoped it was Corey. If it was Lyle, Corey probably wouldn't help me capture him. I didn't have to wait long to find out.

Tossing the softball to Lyle, Corey pushed me away with his belly. "OK, you're the hero," he said. I smiled and he continued, "Lyle and I are both going to be the monsters this time." I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. Lyle gave me a look of sympathy, but then turned around and marched away with Corey. I plumped down on the stump and started counting. I didn't feel much like reaching 100 though. Once I did, I knew that Corey was going to pulverize me. Sure, Lyle'd stop him before he really hurt me, but that wasn't the point. I felt betrayed once again.

Then, before I'd even made it to fifty, I heard a gun shot. Lyle and Corey must have heard it too, cuz they came flying out of the woods and ducked down beside me behind the large stump. "What the hell was that," Corey asked, half whispering and half hollering.

"I don't know, but it sounded like it came from over there," Lyle said, pointing toward the tall, white picket fence that sat between our woods and Mrs. Taylor's garden. "Lets get closer and see if we can see anything." I looked at the fence and then at our stump. I didn't think the fence would offer as much protection, but when Lyle and Corey started moving toward it, all scrunched over, I followed right behind.

When we got there, I let out a sigh of relief. The fence was old, but pretty solid. It had grass growing about halfway up. There was even a pretty good sized hole where two slats had been knocked down. With the grass in the way, we could look through the hole and still remain more or less hidden. So, with fingers curled through the fence as if we could squeeze past if we tried hard enough, we watched the scene unfold from the outside looking in.

A compact man with bright, blue eyes and dark, unruly hair stood under a willow tree. He held a small, black pistol pointed at two ladies who were seated with their backs to us. He was young. Not as young as Lyle and Corey, but not much older either. I wasn't sure why but I couldn't take my eyes off him. Something about him was very familiar.

Before I realized what was happening, Corey screamed, "what are you doing Craig?" and pushed himself through the hole in the fence. That's when chaos broke out. It's also when I recognized why the man with the pistol appeared so familiar. He looked just like Corey. Well, not just like, but an older, skinnier version.

Corey ran toward the two ladies while Lyle pushed his way through the fence. I was right on his heels. One of the ladies made a loud noise and Craig took a step backward and pointed the gun at Corey. Just then, Corey collapsed to the ground, crying. Lyle ran over to comfort him and Craig, screaming something I couldn't understand, pointed the gun at him. I don't think he'd seen me.

With the fence to my back, I walked sideways around the yard and came to the corner of the house. From there, I could see the two elderly ladies. One was Mrs. Taylor and the other one was Mrs. Kendrick. She lived in the red and white rambler two houses down. Mrs. Taylor used to baby sit me back when I was eight and nine. She glanced over at me and smiled.

Hoping that Craig wouldn't notice, I got to my knees and started crawling toward Mrs. Taylor. I made it just as Craig fired the gun once again. The deafening pop made me drop to the ground. I lifted my head up to see if anyone was hit, but from where I was laying, I could only see Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Kendrick and for some strange reason, they were both still smiling. I couldn't figure out why they weren't scared. So I asked them.

"Mrs. Taylor, aren't you scared?"

She shook her head and said, "Being scared isn't going to do any good." She lifted herself up to her knees. "But getting shot might help." She pointed at Corey. "When he shoots me, I want you to run into the house and call the operator for help. OK?" I shrugged and she repeated, "OK?"

I wanted to say no but she put her hand on my shoulder and gave me the look she used to give me when it was time for me to go to bed. At that moment, I was more scared of her than the man with the gun.

Mrs. Taylor lifted herself to her feet and raised her fist. "OK, young man!" she hollered at Craig. "That's enough! You give me back my pistol and get out of my yard. Right now!"

By the look upon his face, I thought Craig was going to do what Mrs. Taylor told him to. But instead he got the most evil smile, pointed the gun at her, and pulled the trigger. Even though I watched him do it, the loud pop from the gun caused me to jump.

Mrs. Taylor fell down. She was facing me with her eyes closed but then they opened and she said, "Go on Jimmy, go to the house and call the cops." I didn't want to go. I was sure that Craig would see me running and shoot me too. But I looked over where he had just been standing and I didn't see him. So I took off for the house.

I bolted through the front door and ran to the kitchen, hoping that Mrs. Taylor still kept her phone in the same place. I was so happy to see that she did. I grabbed the receiver and dialed "O." Miss Westhouse answered.

"Operator, may I help you."

"Yes ma'am. Mrs. Taylor's been shot."

"Who is this? Is this Jimmy Bronson? You better not be playing no pranks Jimmy, because I know your mom and pop."

"It's not a prank, Miss Westhouse. Mrs. Taylor's been shot and she told me to call and get help."

I told her what happened and she told me to hide until Sheriff Retzlaff showed up. I waited under the kitchen table until I heard his siren and then I snuck to the window and looked out. I couldn't believe what I saw. Craig sat with his legs crossed against the old willow tree. Corey and Lyle stood above him. Mrs. Kendrick was talking to Sheriff Retzlaff and he was nodding and writing really fast in his notebook. I didn't see Mrs. Taylor anywhere.

I figured they must have loaded her into the car to take to the hospital or the cemetery or something when I felt something touch my shoulder. I jumped about a foot in the air and fell flat on my face. I scrambled to my feet, turned around, and nearly fainted when I saw what I thought was the ghost of Mrs. Taylor standing above me.

She reached out and caressed my shoulder. "It's OK, Jimmy. I'm not hurt."

"B-but, but I saw him shoot you. I saw you fall."

"He didn't shoot me. I was only pretending, so you could get to the house and call for help."

"Why weren't you afraid though," I asked.

"Because that gun only had blanks in it. I bought it to scare away coyotes."

Things were finally starting to make sense. "Ahh, now I get it. You were just playing placebo to try and trick him."

"Possum. I was playing possum. A placebo is just a fake pill."

Sheriff Retzlaff ended up taking Craig away. They said he needed some kind of mental evaluation or something. Corey said that Craig had been acting weird ever since they moved here. He said he didn't really want to move here either but that he was glad now that he had met such good friends. He was looking at me when he said it. Corey and Lyle are now both my best friends, even though mom still won't let me sleep out in the woods with them. Stupid coyotes!