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When the flash went off this time, the raccoon spun around to look at me. Then the flash went off again, and he made some kind of scary hissing sound and reared up on his hind legs. It was news to me that they made any sounds at all, and wow, he was actually a lot bigger than I thought. In the next instant, he charged at me.
I screamed like a victim in a slasher film as I did some awkward combination of staggering backwards and leaping up. Oh man, why was I naked? Dangly bits plus crazed raccoons were a truly awful combination.
As I turned and sprinted past the kitchen, another horrifying sight caught my eye. A huge cloud of white, fluffy foam was oozing across the floor and around the island, like the blob in an old-fashioned horror movie I’d watched once by accident. Sweet baby Jesus, what was even happening right now?
Just to make things even weirder, I had my phone in a death grip and the flash kept going off as I ran, once every second or two like some sort of strobe light. Apparently I was still pressing the photo button, but that was the least of my concerns right then.
The first open door I came to as I barreled down the hall was the guest bathroom, and I dove inside. As I slammed the door shut, I caught a glimpse of the raccoon and exclaimed, “Crap, he’s in the house!”
Wow, things had really taken a turn. I paced around the bathroom while I caught my breath and tried to form a plan. While I realized most people would call animal control to deal with this situation, there was absolutely no way I was going to do that. They’d probably put him down, and there was no way I could live with a dead raccoon on my conscience. I also didn’t need the little jerk haunting me for the rest of my life.
Obviously, I could call my housemates. Yolanda and JoJo were bad-asses and could take care of this situation, and Eliot and Kel also lived there. But they all were friends with Theo and Casey, and that was a problem. I was going to tell them about this after they came back from vacation, but I was also going to down play it and make it seem like less of a horror show than it actually was. My housemates, on the other hand, would find this hilarious and take great pleasure in describing every gory detail, probably for years to come.
That left me with one choice—and really, the only person I wanted here with me at a time like this. Okay, so Dylan was currently taking a few days to get himself together…but five days had actually passed since he told me he’d lost his job, and after he came here and rescued me and we made out for five or six hours, he could go right back to wherever he’d been staying and continue sulking, or whatever he’d been doing.
I sent him a text that said: Dylan, I need help. I was about to follow that up with a second text containing actual information, but this was a man who was used to tackling emergencies head-on. My phone rang in all of two seconds, and when I answered it he blurted, “Are you alright, baby? Are you hurt? I’m headed to my truck so I can come to you, but do I need to call 9-1-1? They might get there faster than I will.”
“No, don’t call anyone.”
“What’s wrong?”
Even though I’d been holding it together up until that point, hearing his voice brought out a flood of emotions. I started crying and rambling at the same time. “There’s a raccoon in the house, and there’s a blob in the kitchen! Casey and Theo put their faith in me. They thought I could do this, and I really wanted to do a good job. It was so important to me to show everyone I could be a responsible adult, but now it’s all gone wrong! Do you know how nice this house is? Like, they could film an episode of Gossip Girl here, even though I realize they’re not filming that anymore, and when they did it was in New York and not San Francisco. But I’m ruining everything, and—”
“Baby, take a deep breath and tell me the part about the raccoon again. Only that part, okay? Is there a wild animal in the house with you?”
“Yes. I didn’t mean to let him in. I made him a picnic, but then I startled him and he chased me.”
“We need to call animal control.”
I started crying harder. “No! They’ll kill him, and that’s not fair! He’s not a bad raccoon. He just got scared, that’s all!”
“Are you somewhere safe?”
“I’m in the downstairs bathroom. He probably can’t get in, although he does have those tiny hands…” I locked the door.
“That’s good,” Dylan said. “We’ll hold off calling animal control for now, but don’t leave the bathroom until I get there, okay? If it’s acting aggressively, it might have rabies.”
“That’s not it. He just doesn’t like me, and I never should have paparazzied him. But I won’t leave the bathroom, I promise.”
“You’re housesitting for your friends, right?”
“Yes, and I feel so bad about whatever the raccoon is doing to their house right now.”
“Where do they live?”
“Delores Heights, two blocks above the park. I’m blanking on the address right now, but I’ll think of it and text you when I calm down a little. It’s gray with white trim, and there are two fancy little topiary trees around the front door.” I wiped my nose with some toilet paper as I thought about that, and then I added, “Actually, I just described half the houses on this street.”
“I’m going to head your way while you figure out the address. How can I get in once I get there? Do your friends keep a hidden key somewhere?”
“There’s no hidden key, but the back door is wide open. You’ll have to climb over the locked gate on the side of the house, but then all you have to do is circle around to the patio.”
“Okay, not a problem. I’m about to start driving, so I need to hang up. I’m clear across town, but I’ll be there as soon as I can, baby.”
“Thank you so much, Dylan. I can’t tell you what this means to me.”
After we ended the call, I decided I should really put something on. By the time he got here, the raccoon could have left and the foamy ooze could have melted away. It might seem like I’d lured him here under false pretenses, so I could throw myself at him.
I’d promised not to leave the room though, and there was nothing in here but one hand towel, which was way too puny to wrap around my waist. I looked under the sink and muttered, “This’ll do.” Then I grabbed a four-pack of double-ply and went to work making myself some toilet paper shorts.
