Michael’s Odyssey

Michael and his father slowly and quietly moved through the woods that surrounded their Montana homestead. They were both careful not to alarm any wildlife of their presence which was particularly difficult thanks to the freshly fallen leaf litter that blanketed the forest floor. Michael, who was normally very uneasy and timid felt safe next to his father. Michael's dad, William, was a rudy, dark featured, mountain of a man. He was hairy. William's dark beard hid his square jaw from the cold wind, and his long, dark hair rested comfortably on his broad shoulders. Each muscle in William's arms had carved out their own place to habit through a life of manual labor and hard earned survival. William was an outdoorsman; he made his living as an anti-poaching officer in Nigeria and southeast Asia, where he met Michael's mother. 

Night began to fall, and the pair prepared to give up their make shift expedition and head back to the house when they heard an unmistakable sound. It was the call of a wolf, answered by the howls of the other members of the pack in a roll call fashion. William had always been fascinated by wolves and their behavior, but for thirteen year old Michael the sound caused him to become so fearful he could barely move. William enjoyed the sounds of the wolf pack for a moment then moved ahead toward the house, unaware that Michael was not still behind him. The yips and howls of the wolf pack were drawing closer, but still Michael could not get his legs to move. In his mind, Michael was screaming for his body to move closer to his father, who was now out of sight, but his muscles were not responding. The barks and howls drew even closer, and Michael began to cry. He was sure that his father had forgotten him. Suddenly a wolf emerged from the underbrush and bore its teeth at Michael. Michael was sure that this was the end of his short story, when his father appeared and let two shots ring out up into the air. The wolf retreated, and William carried the crying child down the trail to the house. 

A wailing Michael explained that he never wanted to see another wild animal let alone set foot in the woods again. William dried Michael's tears then explained to him that he was becoming a young man. The day would soon come when Michael could not rely on his father to carry him to safety anymore, and Michael would have to be brave. 

Twenty years later, Michael, got the call from his mother that William had been rushed to the hospital after falling off of his fishing boat and nearly drowning. William had suffered a heart attack and only survived because a nearby fishing vessel saw him fall in and rescued William. Currently, William was stable, but the doctors said chances were that he was not going to be around much longer, a reality which did not sit well with William but which crushed Michael. Not only because his dad was his hero, but because he felt as if he had never measured up to his father's expectations. 

The next day, Michael put in a leave of absence at his job and flew back home to Montana to be close to his father and mother. While he was there he decided that it was now or never to act on his father's now twenty year old advice and face his fears. Options were limited in the small Montana community, but a slight budget surplus won Michael a job with the city animal control where he would take shifts between hospital visits. He was not exactly grabbing the bull by the horns Michael thought to himself, but it was a start. Even still he lay awake all night the night before his first day remembering the sounds of the wolves closing in on him. 

The next day Michael met his co-workers. 

Billy Robertson, or "Billy-Bob," walked right up to Michael and introduced himself in a polite but less than well-spoken manner. He claimed to be the face of the crew. Michael hoped to himself that Billy-Bob would not be in charge of operations here, but Michael was certain even from a brief interaction that he would not be able to resist being friends with Billy-Bob. 

Vince was a young man, but not that young, who introduced himself while standing in the corner with his uniform untucked and what looked to be about three day's growth of beard on his face and a cigarette in between his fingers. Vince never had what his parents called direction, but really Vince was just lazy. His uncle got him this job with the city, and Vince worked hard at doing just enough to get by. 

Lastly, the grizzled veteran, Larry, rose out of a chair that seemed to keep the impression of him in it permanently. Larry introduced himself as having been with the animal control department for over ten years. Larry had seen it all, from snakes in the toilet to snakes in the air vents. Michael's father had been shot at by poachers and nearly killed by the animals he was defending, but Larry recounted mundane tales of removing vermin as if he were traumatized beyond repair. 

Michael began to question why he was here. Surely, he thought to himself, this was the result of a fevered, irrational dream to overcome some boyhood insecurity. He looked over his rag tag team of new co-workers and realized he had not thought this all the way through. This was a waste of time, he thought, when his phone rang; it was his mother. Michael's father had taken a turn for the worse. Michael rushed to the hospital. It hurt Michael to see his seemingly invincible father reduced to such a vulnerable posture. 

Holding his father's hand, Michael told his dad all about his silly plan to overcome his fear of animals by joining animal control, but that he was just going to stay by his father's side as long as he needed to. William slowly turned his head and very horsley whispered for Michael to go to work. 

Staying true to what his father wanted, Michael got in a truck with Billy-Bob the next morning and headed to a house whose unwanted guest was currently a possum. Michael did not want Billy-Bob to see that he was in fact pretty nervous about confronting this possum, but as soon as they were in the house and the possum was hissing at Michael from the bathtub, there was no hiding his apprehension. In fact, Michael was standing on the toilet screaming and using a toilet bowl scrubber as his weapon in the fight of his life versus a rodent who only wanted some cheese crackers from the cupboard. 

Back in the truck, Billy-Bob, who never liked to be rude, casually mentioned that their appointment could have gone better. Michael had no choice but to own up to his true motives for taking the job. Billy-Bob, ever the optimist, vowed to Michael that he would help him overcome his fear. 

That day, Michael and Billy-Bob ran ten more calls. They even took calls for Vince and Larry, which suited the veteran who had seen too much action already, apparently, and the slacker whose shirt was not going to untuck itself. Some highlights of these calls included a fainting goat who had gotten out of its pin. Both the goat and Michael fainted when they saw each other. Also, the pair visited a home where an eight-inch wide, hairy tarantula had somehow disappeared and only reappeared to hitch a ride on Michael's shoulder. Truth be known, when Billy-Bob watched the arachnid leg its way over Michael's shoulder and he peered into the eyes of the eight legged escape artist, he began to mirror some of Michael's feelings toward wildlife. 

A week passed and still Michael's father was feeling no better, nor was Michael any closer to embracing his wilder side. Today was going to have to be his day though because Billy-Bob had a dentist appointment that was several years overdue this morning, and Vince and Larry were too lazy and or traumatized to assist Michael. Michael prayed for no calls until Billy-Bob could meet up with him after lunch; the anxiety was almost worse than actually getting a call. Then a call came in, and Michael realized he liked the anxiety much better. 

Michael arrived to check on possible vermin in an elderly couple's trash cans. Michael slinked around the corner of the house. The old man asked what was taking him so long, so Michael told himself that it was just a racoon that needed to be shooed away and hurried along. But when he rounded the corner Michael felt the most terror enter his body since the day his father saved him in the woods. Standing in front of him was a wolf. Well, not quite a wolf; it was a coyote. But Michael, in his moment of fear, did not know this. 

The coyote noticed Michael and for whatever reason decided to leave his trashy appetizer and see if Michael was predator or prey. As the dog slowly pawed closer to Michael, the reason it was so curious became clear. The coyote was rabid. Well, not quite rabid, it had just been snacking near some shaving cream, but Michael did not know this. 

The coyote playfully lunged at Michael and toppled him over. Michael tried to remember his training, but all he could recall was Larry telling him the three places he should never let a beaver bite him. The coyote had Michael pinned down and Michael only held it off by pushing the handle of his snare against the dog's body.

Michael was so terrified that he could not move. It was as if he was bolted to the earth until he heard his father's voice telling him not to be afraid. Michael closed his eyes, then he sprang to action. He threw the coyote over his head with the snare, sprang to his feet and snared the dog. Just then Larry showed up, tranquilised the coyote and made sure everyone knew that he had handled situations much worse than this before. Larry also said that Michael's family had been trying to get in touch with him; his father had taken a turn for the better. 

Michael sat by his father's side, who could now talk with much greater ease. Michael told his father about the wolf and about how he had finally heeded his father's words about facing his fears. William just chuckled; it almost hurt him to reveal to his son that his encounter had been with a coyote, the smaller, less aggressive cousin to the wolf. 

William then solemned his face and took Michael's hand. William told Michael that he had never expected Michael to be him. He was proud of the man that Michael had become not because he had spent a week wrangling stray cats, but because he had always been proud of Michael, who was apparently willing to go to great lengths to impress his father. Then William took Michael's hand, and he took the ring that he had worn every day for as long as Michael could remember off of his hand and put it onto Michael's. William simply said that it was passed down to all of the men in his family, and it was time Michael wore it. 

Three days later, William passed away. At the funeral Michael did not even cry, not because he was not upset, but because he had done all of his crying in the hospital three days ago. Today he was strong for his mother. As the pastor said a prayer he bowed his head and looked down at his clasped hands and breathed a sigh of relief.