* * *
The principal and secretary called the police, animal control, reporters, basically everyone except the FBI. Leslie sat numb in a seat as the school nurse pulled shards of glass from her hands with tweezers. Leslie ran through what happened over and over in her mind. She tried to think of things scientifically.
Fact: Something had broken in through the window. That something was a young woman.
Fact: That woman changed into a mountain lion.
Fact: According to the laws of physics, matter could not be created or destroyed. But that mountain lion couldn’t have had the exact same mass as the woman. Except, wasn’t there another law that said matter could be turned into energy, and energy into matter? Or was she making that part up?
Fact: Gray turned into a panther.
Fact: People don't turn into animals. Ever.
Fact: Leslie had never taken drugs.
Fact: Leslie was probably going crazy.
The nurse finished bandaging Leslie’s hands and left. Leslie picked up the wooden cylinder, the one Gray had thrown to her right before he changed, and held it close.
Someone sat in the chair in front of Leslie. She looked up. It was a police officer. His badge gleamed on his black shirt. “You’re Leslie, right?” he said.
Leslie nodded.
“I’m Officer Powell. Would you mind answering some questions for me, please?”
“Okay,” Leslie mumbled.
Officer Powell took out a pad of paper and a pen. It was a click-pen, and he clicked it two or three times before speaking. “Your teacher said you saw a mountain lion in here.”
“That’s right.”
“When did it enter the school?”
Leslie shifted the cylinder from one hand to the other. “Gray was talking, and he saw it in the tree outside. He jumped back, and she—the mountain lion—jumped in.”
“She?”
“I think it was a she.” Leslie blushed. There was no way she was going to tell a police officer that she’d seen a grown woman change into a mountain lion right before her eyes. She’d be carted away to the loony bin for sure.
“Course, I’m probably wrong. It could have been a he cougar. Male, I mean. Does it matter?” Leslie looked up quickly, meeting Officer Powell’s eyes. They were laughing, like he didn’t quite believe her.
“Of course not. Gray, where is he now?”
Leslie bit her lip. “The mountain lion attacked. Gray fought it off, but it kept attacking. Then it jumped out the window, and…and…and Gray went after it.”
“Are you sure that’s what happened?” there was a note of suspicion in Officer Powell’s voice.
Leslie looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
Officer Powell leaned back. “I’ve never heard of a cougar jumping through a window to get at prey inside. Heck, we hardly ever have cougars around here anyway. Plus, cougars generally stop fighting if you fight back. And why would Gray follow the cougar after it left? Gray’s clothes are scattered all over the floor. Can you tell me why?”
Leslie thought quickly. Why was he questioning her this way? “He was going to go running with me after class. When he heard we had to wait for the principal, he wanted to change into his gym clothes so…so that we could save time. He went into the teacher’s office to change because it was closer. He…he didn’t take anything. You can ask Mr. Jones.” It sounded like a feeble lie, even to her.
“I will. Did Gray say or do anything to make you suspicious? Did he act inappropriately towards you? Is he the one who broke the glass and trashed the room? Why did he leave?”
Leslie jumped to her feet. “What are you saying? A mountain lion broke into the school. There’s glass on the floor, not outside. Can’t you see that? I don’t know why Gray left. Maybe he was feeling heroic or something. I don’t know why the mountain lion kept fighting. Maybe the mountain lion was sick. Maybe it has rabies. Maybe you should be out searching for the lion and Gray, instead of in here questioning me. A mountain lion was here—can’t you see the claw marks all over the place? Don’t you see Gray’s blood on the ground?”
“I see the blood,” said Officer Powell calmly.
Leslie froze. She looked at the splattered blood on the ground. “You think I did this? Am I a suspect or something?”
“That’s yet to be determined. Did you do something you shouldn’t?”
Leslie shook her head. “No. And I think you’re insane. A mountain lion attacked my friend.”
“Will you be willing to submit to a drug test?” asked Officer Powell.
“Don’t you have to ask my dad’s permission or something?” Leslie muttered.
“We’ll get it.”
“If he gives it, then yes,” said Leslie. “Can I go home now?”
“As soon as your father comes, yes.”
Mr. Matheson showed up fifteen minutes later. On being asked if Leslie could submit to a drug test, he said, “No. Absolutely not. Leslie has never taken drugs in her life. If she says a mountain lion attacked her, then maybe you should start looking for a rabid mountain lion. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a foster son to look for.” He placed his arms protectively around Leslie’s shoulders and led her out of the school building.
On the school grounds, a flock of reporters harassed them. “Is it true there was an attack inside the school building?” one reporter asked.
“Please,” Mr. Matheson said, “leave us alone.”
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Leslie said. “I want to say something.”
Leslie turned to face the camera. “A mountain lion attacked me and my friend in the school. I don’t know why the police are trying to cover it up. Usually they want people to know about this so that they can be safe. But I want everyone to know about it, because the mountain lion kept attacking when my friend started to fight back. Maybe it was starving or desperate, I don’t know. But she kept attacking, and so I want to let other people know about it so they can be safe. That’s all.”
The reporters kept asking other questions, but Mr. Matheson pushed past them, holding Leslie tight. He opened the car’s passenger door for Leslie, then quickly walked to the other side. As they were driving home, Mr. Matheson asked, “Is it true? Did a mountain lion really attack you, and did Gray really jump out the window after it?”
Leslie nodded. “You know it is. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
Mr. Matheson grunted. “Gray said he wanted to protect people. I guess he’s starting that already. I just hope he’s okay.”
Leslie looked out the window. The sun was setting. She could just barely see the sunlight glinting off the sea through the houses and trees.
The car pulled into the garage. Mr. Matheson cut the engine. “Come in when you’re ready. I have to go back to work, but I’ll let you sit here if you need to.”
Leslie shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
She slipped out of the car, still holding Gray’s cylinder to her chest. She entered in front of her father. Savannah was sitting at the kitchen table. When Leslie entered, she looked at the cylinder in Leslie’s hands. Her eyes went wide. Gray? she mouthed.
Leslie pressed her lips tight together. She shook her head slightly and tilted her head back towards Mr. Matheson. Not yet, she thought.
Savannah got the message. She gripped her pencil tight in her hand and hunched over her school papers, though she didn’t work on them. She kept glancing at Leslie.
Mr. Matheson led Leslie to the table. He kissed her on the top of the head. “I’ll be back within the hour. I’ll get hamburgers for dinner. What do you want to drink?”
“Pepsi,” Savannah said quickly.
“Root beer, please,” said Leslie. She didn’t want any caffeine tonight.
“One Pepsi and root beer coming up,” said Mr. Matheson. He rubbed Savannah’s curly head on the way out.
As soon as they heard the garage door slide closed, Savannah turned to Leslie. “What. Happened.”
Leslie shrugged. “You were right. Gray’s not from around here. He’s different. Very different.”
“Different how?” Savannah scooted closer. “He’s an alien, right?”
Leslie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She turned away. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll tell you later, okay?”
Savannah slumped down, disappointed. She stared at Leslie. When it became obvious that Leslie wasn’t about to say anything else, she pointed her pencil at her. “Fine. But if you don’t tell me, I’ll crucio you.”
“Whatever.” Leslie left the room, climbing the stairs slowly to her bedroom. She ran through the scene one last time.
I was given one task. One. Success means life, fail— Failure means death. Leslie could figure that part out on her own.
Give me the scroll.
What do you want with it?
Give it to me!
Leslie closed her bedroom door and sat on her bed. She looked at the cylinder in her hands. Was this the scroll? Why was it so important? She turned it on its end. The end looked like it was made of a separate piece of wood that was pushed into the cylinder, like a cork. Maybe the cylinder was just a protective carrying case, and the scroll was inside it. But what did the scroll say? Leslie started to pry at the wood with her fingers, but something stopped her. If Gray found out she’d opened the cylinder, he’d never trust her. And for some reason, she wanted him to trust her.
Leslie glanced out the window. It was dark outside. An orange tree that had gotten rather too big for its own good grew outside her window. Usually, Leslie loved leaning out into the night air and taking a whiff of the strong citrus scent, but now she shrank away from her window. Her imagination went wild, and she thought she saw someone sitting in the branches of the tree. She stared at the tree, willing herself to see through the branches in the darkness.
Slowly, Leslie realized there really was someone—or something—crouched in the orange tree. Leslie scrambled to her light switch and flung it off. She dropped to the floor. There, now whoever was out there wouldn’t be able to see her. She crept to the window and peered above the windowsill.
It wasn’t Cougar Girl, that much was certain. The person wasn’t anywhere near the right shape. It wasn’t looking inside, either. Its head was angled away from the window. The more Leslie stared, the more she thought it was Gray…or was it? Something didn’t seem quite right.
Carefully, silently, Leslie made her way downstairs. She crept out the front door, closing it quietly behind her. She slipped around the side of the house and stood under the orange tree. She looked up.
Yellow eyes looked back at her, glinting like coins in the darkness. Leslie almost turned and ran, but she stopped herself. Slowly, Leslie walked closer, peering through the branches of the tree.
It was Gray…but it wasn’t. His shoulders were hunched, and tufts of black fur grew from his shoulders and neck. Wherever there wasn’t fur, Gray’s strange clothes covered his body, but they were skintight. His hair was dark, with no trace of highlights. His face was misshapen, with more of a muzzle than a mouth. He gripped onto the tree limb with clawed feet.
Gray stared at Leslie. His arms clutched his wounded side. He growled at her, revealing a mouth filled with catlike fangs.
“Gray,” Leslie began, her voice quivering. She licked her lips and began again. “Gray, it’s me, Leslie. We—we were at school, and that woman attacked. You…turned into a black panther, but I know that’s not who you are.”
Gray made a low yowling sound in the back of his throat, a half-growl.
Leslie raised the wooden cylinder up. Gray looked momentarily at it, then back at Leslie’s face. “I—I have your scroll. I didn’t open it, I promise. Please come down from there, Gray. Please change back. I don’t know what’s going on. I had to lie to the police because, well, I couldn’t just tell them what I saw.”
Gray continued to clutch his side, staring at Leslie.
Slowly, Leslie reached into her pocket. She pulled out Gray’s broken necklace. His eyes immediately fixed on it. “I found this—”
Gray fell to a lower branch with catlike ease. He reached out one hand. It had shortened fingers, covered in short black fur. Retractable claws extended, and he snatched the necklace from Leslie’s hands. He brought it close to his chest and rocked back and forth on his tree limb. Slowly, the fur disappeared. His face shape became human, normal, and his clothes loosened. Last of all, his eyes changed back to brown flecked with gold.
Gray closed his eyes and groaned. His face went pale. He opened his eyes and stared at Leslie.
“Are you a good guy?” asked Leslie. It was the first thing that popped into her mind.
Gray nodded. “I’m a good guy.”
In the biggest leap of faith Leslie ever had to make, Leslie held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
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