Page 9 of Fire of the Fox

Looking back at the fox, I gave him a reassuring smile and approached him slowly. “Don’t be scared, little guy. I’m going to let you out.”

The fox stared at me with those cautious eyes, and I waited with bated breath to see how he’d react to my creeping closer. He didn’t act aggressively, which took me by surprise. There was no snarling, no baring his teeth. He didn’t even flinch. Meanwhile, my heart thundered against my chest as I waited for him to lose his cool and suddenly strike at me with his canines or claws.

Instead, he let me kneel down next to him, watching me the whole time. It was odd how placid he was, which made my heart trip over itself in worry. Could he be severely hurt, and that’s why he wasn’t reacting? Ignoring the oddity of his extremely calm demeanor, I assessed the trap. A small trail of blood dripped from his ankle where he was being held. I frowned at the sight of the red droplets and hoped it wasn’t a sign that his foot was broken.

Looking into his eyes again, I put on the most soothing voice I could muster. “All right, this may hurt. Just trust me. I’m going to get you out.”

I studied him for signs of attack as I pressed down on the levers of the trap to release their hold. When the fox felt the grip of the trap lessen, he quickly jumped out of it and backed away. I released the levers and let go of the breath I’d been holding as I sat all the way down.

“There you go. You’re free now.”

I waited for him to dart off in a panic, but instead of taking off running, the fox stayed rooted to the spot, watching me with his cut paw gingerly pressing against the ground. Mind reeling at how calm he was still being, I suddenly felt the first touch of real fear. This was a wild animal. What if he was calm and still right now because he was readying up for an attack? I mean, why else wouldn’t he be fleeing?

With him so close, I also realized he wasn’t all black. His coat was a deep onyx tipped in frosty white, and his bushy tail came to a snow-colored point. It dawned on me then that he was not just any fox. He was a silver fox.

I’d only ever seen the rare creature in reference books in art class. The odds of seeing such a fox were one in a thousand. Maybe this unlikely encounter was meant to serve as a sign that my dreams were still in my hands. If I could find a silver fox out in the woods, I could find a way to get to Italy.

The fox tilted his head to the side, reminding me of a dog studying a person. The longer he stood there unmoving, the more I wondered if he was tame. Some people had pet foxes, right? Perhaps he’d escaped from his owner’s house and gotten lost, because a wild fox would’ve definitely lashed out at me by this point.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the fox slowly walked straight to my side, watching me with a steady gaze, and my eyes went wide. On one hand, his paw seemed relatively unharmed, other than the cut, since he was walking on it without issue. This news was good. On the other hand, seeing how unafraid the creature was rattled my rational mind. He shouldn’t be this affable unless he really did belong to someone as a pet. I wasn’t completely sure of his intentions as he closed in on me. The urge to run was at war with my desire to sit still and see how this played out.

Trying to keep myself calm, I said, “You’re quite friendly, huh? I don’t mind, though. I could use some company after the day I’ve had.”

The gentle trickle of the creek drew my attention. Frowning, I could start to feel a hint of annoyance again. I sighed and glanced at the fox, who studied me once more.

Jokingly, I asked, “What? Would you like to hear about my stressful day?”

As if he knew what I was saying, the fox sat down next to me and stared up at me with an expectant gaze. My heart sped up. It was as if he could actually understand me and wanted to listen. Which was impossible. This was an animal. Animals couldn’t understand people unless I was suddenly a princess in a Disney film and no one told me. It was most likely a coincidence that he sat down at that exact moment.

Nothing more.

I could roll with coincidences if it meant I got to vent to someone unable to judge me or talk back. I needed to release my pent-up emotions, and talking aloud would do that.

“All right then,” I started, looking at the water. “You see, back when I was in high school, I had a crush on this guy for a long time. I never dreamed he would notice me, but at the end of senior year, he asked me out. I couldn’t believe my luck, and I didn’t ask any questions. He finally saw me the way I saw him.”

My mood turned somber again, and I closed my eyes. With a sigh, I continued, “Although, I guess he didn’t actually see me that way after all. To be honest, I knew the whole time that he was only using me. He didn’t actually want to be with me. I didn’t want things to end because I liked telling myself that Dax was mine. I was stupid, I guess. Today we finally broke up, but not before I got the best-yet-worst news of my life. That’s why I came here.”

I kicked at a rock and watched it roll into the water. After frowning at the stream for a while, my attention turned back to the silver fox. He sat there, still watching me.

I gave him a warm smile and added, “Well, I guess something good came out of it all. I got to save you.”

He tilted his head at me again, and a laugh escaped me. Sitting here, talking to an animal as if it were human, probably seemed crazy. But it worked for me. Sometimes saying things out loud makes you realize how idiotic you sound. It makes you realize a change needs to happen.

“You know,” I said, “You’re a very good listener, and you cheered me up a lot. I hope we meet again someday.”

The fox sat up straighter and seemed to peer deep into my eyes. Mine couldn’t possibly hope to match the intensity of his. Where mine were like the deep depths of the ocean, his were like a blazing fire, promising to burn everything in its wake. They were a mesmerizing color, one that would be exciting to try to match in paints. I never wanted to forget those eyes.

Daring to take this chance, I slowly reached my hand out toward him. He went rigid at the sign of movement, and his amber eyes turned cautious. I stilled, afraid I’d startled him into fleeing. It didn’t matter that I froze, because he pushed his head forward to nuzzle it against my hand. A mixture of awe and shock bubbled up in my throat, and I gently rubbed in between his ears.

This moment was one for the books. I didn’t think I’d ever forget him, but just to be sure, I wanted to mark him somehow. That way I’d know it was the same fox if I found him again. It was a gut feeling, almost like a magnetic pull. It was like when you see a dog or cat for the first time, and when your eyes meet, your gut tells you that it’s the one. It’s your lifelong friend. I knew I couldn’t keep him as a pet, but I could still leave a part of me with him, even if it was silly of me to do so. With that, I finally decided on the necklace that I wore.

It was a silver chain with a small, blue gem, and it reminded me of a clear stream. It was my favorite, despite coming from a cheap twenty-five cent gumball machine. Even though I knew I may never see it again, it felt right to give it to this animal.

I unclasped the necklace and held it up for the fox to see. “I want you to take this.” The fox didn’t move as I leaned forward to place the chain around his neck. It fit perfectly around his throat, which made me giddy.

“Thank you for listening to me. I know I’ll never forget this.”

I stood up, wiping the dirt from my jeans. The fox stood back up as well, and he watched me as I put on my socks and sneakers again. When I finished, I hauled my backpack onto my shoulders and looked back at the fox. I waved to him before turning and making my way back to campus.

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