Page 55 of Story of My Life
Zoey’s indignant scream had me scrambling out of bed. I got my foot tangled in the sheets and nearly ended up on my ass, but the resounding thud and her shrill “You want a piece of me?” had me executing a ninja-like escape move.
I stumbled out of bed, grabbed the piano bench leg on the fly, and ran into the hallway.
Zoey’s room was in the front of the house. She’d chosen one of the smaller bedrooms with a view of Main Street, claiming the glimpse of civilization made her feel safer. It had wildly pink wallpaper and cherubs carved into the crown molding.
I found her standing on her four-poster bed with a suede ankle boot locked and loaded. Its mate was on the floor next to… Oh shit.
“Is that a raccoon?” I screeched.
“Go away, trash panda!” She hurled the second boot at the masked intruder. Hand-eye coordination never her strong suit, she missed by several feet.
“Oh my God, Zoey! Don’t make it mad!” The raccoon looked in my direction, and I gripped the bench leg in both hands like a light saber. “Shoo, wild animal. Begone.”
It sat on its fluffy haunches and clasped its hands. Or were they paws? Feet?
“I’m not sharing a room with wild animals,” she insisted.
“It’s not like I invited it to a slumber party, Zoey! Where did it come from?” I asked, inching my way into the room.
She danced on the bed. “How should I know? But guess where it ended up?In bed with me!”
“Go away, sir or ma’am,” I said, making a shooing motion with the bench leg. The raccoon took a tentative step back. It looked confused as it divided its attention between us two mildly hysterical women.
“What are you doing?” Zoey demanded.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m shooing it.” I took another step forward.
“These things are garbage-eating rabies factories. Don’t let it bite your face off!”
“What’s with you and things biting faces off?” I asked, momentarily losing focus.
“Pay attention to the wild animal, Hazel!”
“I’m paying attention! I thought you were being murdered. My adrenaline is all over the place,” I shouted back.
Apparently the raccoon had had enough of our loud drama because it waddled over to the fireplace and disappeared inside. A distinct clawing noise came from the wall. At least that solved that particular mystery.
“Is it gone?” Zoey demanded, hugging a pillow to her face.
“I don’t know!”
“Well, go look!”
“You just told me not to get my face bitten off, and now you want me to stick my unscathed face in an enclosed space with a wild animal?”
“I woke up to a flea-carrying woodland monster in my bed because I’m a good friend and went along with your harebrained scheme! The least you can do is get your face bitten off for me!”
“Okay. Fine! I’ll look.” I tightened my grip on the bench leg and inched toward the fireplace.
“Is it still there?” she hissed.
“Be quiet.” I eased up to the tile surround. “Throw me your phone.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The only thing you’re worse at than driving is catching things. And I just got this phone last week to replace the one I lost down the sewer grate.”
