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“Olive, that is a wild animal. It shouldn’t be in here.”
“She’s not a wild animal. Her name is Lena, and she’s a mama. Where are her babies?” Olive sticks her head out again.
I can be assertive with a child.
“Close the door, Olive.”
“But the babies!” she cries.
We have bigger problems in the shape of a giant raccoon. It moves slowly, toward the grain.
“See! Lena is friendly.”
Lena is friendly because she’s getting what she wants.
I shake my head. “Raccoons can’t be in here, Olive. Just because Thelma and Louise are cool...” Cameron told me about Thelma and Louise, a raccoon duo, who are infamous in Goldheart for attacking Annie’s ex, exacting raccoon vigilante justice.
This animal is not Thelma or Louise.
This animal needs to get out of there. Not only do raccoons carry a lot of diseases, they can be nasty. Even meaner than Jackson. One once attacked my dog, and I’ve never forgiven them. Although Rory wasn’t hurt and he was vaccinated, I still don’t like them.
The door is still open, and I pray it gets spooked and escapes.
Olive pulls her face back in, pale with lips parted. She freezes, and I could pee myself I’m so scared. What else is out there? A bear? A mountain lion? This raccoon’s hundred raccoon friends?
“What?” I scan the storage room for a weapon.
“That’s not Lena right there.” Her little finger shakes as she points to the raccoon. “That’sDarryl.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Thelma’s husband. Darryl is a meanie. Oh no. Mom’s going to be mad. I let Lena in a month ago, but she needed to feed her babies…”
“The raccoons are married?” I ask.
“We named them from the movie. Lena is the waitress at the Silver Bullet. Darryl is Thelma’s husband. You really need to seeThelma and Louise, Shiloh.”
“I’ve seen it, Olive. We’ll talk about how you’ve seen that movie later,” I say. “We need to get Darryl out.”
“Darryl will not go nicely,” Olive says, her hands pin-straight at her sides, like she’s a Nutcracker. Her chin quivers. I can’t handle a crying child right now.
“It’s okay, Olive. Help me get him out. What should we use?”
I scan the room again because the raccoon is now touching the bag of grain. I’m not sure if we can use it if a critter has touched it, but I really don’t want the mess to be on my hands and Jackson to know I’m the reason we had a loss in product.
He hates me enough as it is.
“Do you see a broom or something?”
Olive points, and I see one hidden between the shelves. I grab it slowly, to avoid spooking the raccoon.
“We shouldn’t make any sudden movements. Stay behind me, sweetie,” I say, holding the broom out. I nudge Darryl with the bristles, and he looks back at me with teeth bared.
I move slowly, trying to hook its body and usher it closer to the open door, and I’m just praying Darryl’s buddies don’t come charging in.
The gentle suggestion of exit angers the raccoon even more. Its beady eyes focus on me, and my heartbeat quickens.
“Olive, I’m going to need you to go get your grandma.”
