CHAPTER TWENTY
On the drive over to Tuna Canyon, Reggie told Joe, “Thanks for helping me and for convincing my mom it was safe.”
“More than happy to—I know what this means to you.”
Taking a narrow gravel road a quarter-mile in from the highway, Joe parked his jeep at the end marked by a sign reading; KEEP OUT Restricted Area - California Department of Water Resources. Handing Reggie a one-liter bottle of water, Joe said, “Better take this. It’s quite a hike to the cabin and you may need it by Sunday.”
It took them almost an hour hiking over rough terrain, with several climbs of a thousand feet, before they were able to descend deep into the canyon. The Agency had picked this remote location as the best area to do a survey of what the Santa Monica Mountain ecology might have looked like before development—and, there still wasn’t a single house on any of the surrounding hills.
When they came upon an abundance of lush foliage near the canyon floor, Reggie knew they were near a source of water and the grove of sycamores. The cabin was hard to spot, on purpose Joe noted, but it had a great view of the path below where animal life could be viewed and photographed. The cabin was raised from the ground on stilts and had a screened-in front. They walked up the stairs and Joe unlocked the door and Reggie threw his backpack and sleeping bag on a lower bunk near the screened entrance.
“Want to hike down to the spring?” Joe asked.
“Thanks, Joe but I’d rather just begin my vision quest.”
“No problem, but before I leave, let me show you the outdoor latrine area—it’s some 150 yards behind the cabin. Make sure you use the shovel so you don’t leave human scent.” “Will do,” Reggie assured him.
On the way back to the cabin, Joe told him, “This area with the spring is very popular with wildlife—you’re likely to hear a lot of activity from the nocturnal animals tonight. Lots of bobcats in the area, and if one should catch a hare, be ready for a lot of unholy screaming.”
Reggie asked Joe, his voice filled with excitement, “Think I might catch a glimpse of a cougar?”
“Huh!” Joe laughed, “You’d be one in ten million humans who ever saw one free in the wild.”
Joe then reminded Reggie to keep his cell on, handed him the cabin key and gave him a quick wave as he walked up the trail.
“See you tomorrow, ‘round nine, and stay in the cabin after nightfall,” Joe said.
That would be the last human voice Reggie heard for quite a while.
Scoping out the area around the cabin, Reggie spotted a young sycamore standing alone a few yards above the wildlife path. Although it had some sagebrush around it, he found a stick and drew a rough ten-foot circle around it for his vision quest. He pulled out his guidebook and reviewed all the preparations and rituals. He knew he couldn’t take the full quest as his ancestors did, but hoped his shortened ‘urban’ version would work.
The first step in the process was to clear his mind of all human thoughts and simply take in the beauty of the natural surroundings. That was pretty easy for Reggie as he found delicate pink and white Yarrow and some Maiden-Hair fern at his eye level, both plants that like the wetter regions of the canyons. A black Phoebe lighted on a branch above him; a nesting female he thought.
Then he thought he wouldn’t be able to relax and start his quest until he gave Jennifer a call and shared his excitement with her. Picking up his cell, he rang her and only got her voice mail, so he left a message to call back before nine Pacific Time. Then he cursed as he noticed his battery was low, so he shut it off and went back to his guidebook and nature.
He flipped to the chapter on singing a power song, the purpose of which was to wake up the Power Animal. ‘No doubt my cougars are sleeping now,’ Reggie thought. He wondered what songs his ancient relatives would have sung, as all he could think of was the refrain from Lion King. Those lyrics; till we find our place in the circle of life, did seem to fit. He smiled to himself thinking of what the African boy lion Mufasa would think of his Western feline cousins.
Although Reggie understood he could be visited and guided by any number of Power Animals, he already felt, deep in his soul, that the mountain lion had to be his animal. Not just because of his love and appreciation of the creature he thought, but because of what he needed spiritually from the animal. He flipped back to the dog-eared page that first grabbed him when he read about the various Power animals and what they could provide a human. The Mountain Lion’s totem and spiritual character was to help you become sure of your goals and purpose and to have little regret. That’s exactly what I need, Reggie thought.
The guidebook also fascinated Reggie when he read about having ‘out of body’ experiences. These could come about after days of meditation and receptivity, where his spirit could actually rise up and connect with supernatural spirits. Although Reggie felt it was unlikely that he would have that experience here, he spent the next couple of hours in deep meditation, interrupted only by an occasional leg stretch and a pee break. During this time, Reggie did not receive a single vision, but he felt very peaceful and soon decided to take a hike in the waning hours of the evening.
Figuring he might as well check out the spring, he headed down the path. It wasn’t a path really, but only bent down grass where much smaller animals tread—a path to a source of water and for predators, a route to find and catch prey. As he neared what looked to be the spring, he picked up the foul scent of rotting flesh.
Not wanting to get too close, he slowly approached a heap of leaves and branches. Nearby he found light brown patches of fur scattered around. No doubt it was from a cougar hiding a deer kill. He slowly backed away. He was not fearful, but cautious, knowing this was the lion’s food. If he were a cougar and was discovered by the cougar who hid the carcass, he could be killed in a fight. He thought of what Joe would do in this circumstance. He picked up a large branch, with which he could, in theory, use to parry with the hypothetical beast.
As he walked back up to the cabin, he already felt the presence of his power animal. Knowing that the lion would probably come back to consume his kill, Reggie believed he might become one in the millions who ever saw a mountain lion in the wild.
Reaching the cabin just before nightfall, Reggie decided it was time to move inside. Sitting on the edge of the bunk, he re-started his vision quest. As his thoughts quieted, images started to blur across his projected mind.
Although he never saw an animal on the path below, his imagination brought forth a whole parade of wild animals: a badger, a fox, a skunk and several mule deer. The only image of a mountain lion that came into his mind was that of a photograph of P12’s mange-ridden face.
At one point, Reggie fell asleep only to jerk himself awake as he almost fell off the bunk bed. Then he figured he might as well lie down. Using his backpack as a pillow and his sleeping bag as a mattress, he quickly fell into a deep sleep.
****
Late into the night, he came. The animal first caught the scent of the two-legs hiking hours and miles ago. So the lion moved slowly as he might be stalking prey, but cautiously as he might be preyed upon by the two-legs. All eight feet of the mountain lion slinked over the rocks and slithered along tree roots like liquid fur. In the deep darkness of La Tuna canyon, all that any human could have seen of him were two green, moon-radiated eyes, advancing with intense single-mindedness. Once the lion got close to the cabin, he knew there was only the one two-leg.
Reggie could not see or hear that he was being sought out. Fast asleep, he could not know that animal that he wanted as his spiritual guide was steadily following his scent, and heading directly to the cabin.
At fifty feet away, the lion’s acute hearing picked up the rhythmic inhale and exhale of the two-leg’s breath. At twenty-five feet, the lion’s acute night vision could see the rise and fall of the two-leg’s chest.
On the ground below the raised cabin, the lion anchored its hindquarters with its tail and lifted its front quarters in one effortless ascension. It reached up and unsheathed its two-inch claws and locked them on the outside lip of the cabin floor. At two feet from the two-leg’s face, but on the other side of the screen, the lion’s whiskers felt the warmth of his body. Although the lion could have cut through the screen and then through the throat of the two-leg in a single swipe, he did not. The two-leg stirred and the animal left as silently as he came. The cougar moved back down the path to the spring.
****
Only moments after the lion left him behind, the boy woke up. Reggie had no sense, vision or dream of the big cat’s visit, but he felt empty or was it lonely. He turned his cell phone on to check the time. It was already 3:57 a.m. and no vision of his Power Animal. There was a text from Jennifer saying she was sorry she missed him, but that Terri and her were heading out to a party and she’d call him Sunday. Staring at the phone, Reggie noticed he only had ten percent battery power left, so he quickly shut the phone back off.
Frustrated with his lack of progress on his quest, Reggie looked down at the shadows on the moon-lit path. Nature was being filtered by the tiny squares of screen and he was lying in a comfortable bed in a cabin. This was not how my ancestors would have made a vision quest, he thought. If he was to experience or envision a Power Animal it had to be in their wild home, he was sure. So, he grabbed his sleeping bag, went outside and lay down on the ground next to the Sycamore. Here, in the circle of a proper vision quest, he felt the earth, he took in the stars and was connected.
****
Joe and Barbara didn’t get back from visiting her brother in Fresno till 1:00 a.m. that Saturday night. At precisely 4:00 a.m., Joe woke up to a nightmarish feeling in his body. Was Reggie okay out there? He picked up his phone and tried Reggie’s cell. Reggie did not answer and Joe panicked. He woke Barbara and told her he was worried about Reggie and might head out earlier.
It was some sixth sense that gripped and pulled at Joe as he dressed, grabbed a protein bar and drove to the office. ‘Dammit!’ He cursed, he was halfway to Fresno when he remembered he should have checked the whereabouts of his collared lions again after he brought Reggie to La Tuna Canyon. Running up the stairs of the dark building and into his office, he flicked on the tracking monitor. He impatiently waited for the coded lights to blip on, showing the tracks and current location of each Puma concolor in his research.
“Son of a Bitch!” Joe shouted as he slammed his fist on the desk. There was P1, the old dominant male heading toward and now in Tuna Canyon and right at the location of the cabin. Grabbing his tranquilizer gun and his Sig-Sauer P230 pistol, he ran down and out to his car and screeched out of the parking lot.
****
The first sensation that Reggie felt was a soft tapping on the bottom of his sleeping bag. He moved his feet and waited. In a moment he felt it again. He opened his eyes and there were two mountain lion cubs, not more than a few weeks old, romping around his sleeping bag. They were spotted and their baby blue eyes shined as they chirped and swatted at each other. The first thought he had was Holy Shit! Then he worried where their mother was. Looking at the cubs again, he saw that they weren’t really playing, but excited in a nervous sort of way, jumping in and out of the sage brush around him.
He heard a hissing and a deeper growl made by a mature lion. He could not see any large cats, even in the moonlight. It sounded like two adult cougars were very near. Then it got quiet and even the cubs lay frozen still in the bush.
He heard a loud scream and saw the shadowy outline of a mature lion run in front of him. This alerted the cubs and they scrambled after what Reggie presumed was their mother. Moments later there was a much louder guttural howl. He could not see the other cat, but he felt that it was a huge creature— almost monster-like in size and fierceness. Certainly not young P12. The lion’s snarl was combined with a caterwaul which had the ferocity to it that could only mean an attack.
More silence again. Reggie fought back the desire to run for the cabin. Then he heard some rustling off in the distance and muted screams. Stay where you are, he told himself. Don’t move.
By this time, Joe was already hiking up and down the sharp ravines of La Tuna. He was wearing his LED light on his helmet, so he moved fast through the darkness of the canyon. But it would still take him at least an hour to reach the cabin and his heart was beating fast, from the adrenaline and from the fear. He felt the sweat running down his neck as he recalled the assurances he had given Reggie’s mom about his safety. He had loaded both his tranquilizer gun and his pistol and was prepared to use the deadly weapon if needed. He had to get to Reggie and it seemed to take forever.
Finally, he could make out the crowns of the Sycamore grove near the cabin. Running at full speed to the cabin, he opened the door and let out a gasp. Reggie was not there.
He turned his head to light the surrounding area. At the base of a lone sycamore, he immediately spotted the bottom of a sleeping bag poking out of the sage brush and shouted, “Reggie!” as he ran to the spot. No answer. No movement. Joe dropped to his knees and shook the boy.
Reggie had fallen asleep and he groggily raised his head and said, “Joe? You’re here early, what’s up?”
“What’s up with you sleeping in the open?”
“I wanted to have the best chance of having a vision. Wait till I tell you.”
****
As the sun began to rise, the two started the hike back up to the car. Reggie had filled Joe in on his discovery of the deer kill, his decision to leave the cabin and why he did not answer Joe’s phone call. Then Reggie told him about his vision, or was it just a dream? The more Reggie talked about it and thought about it, the more he became confused about its meaning. He wanted and expected to have a mountain lion of some kind connect with him somehow; give him guidance, talk to him even. But the lions in his dream did none of that.
Reggie gave Joe the details of the cubs, the appearance of the mother trying to corral them. He told him about the second adult, never seen, but heard loudly in all his fury.
Joe tried to help Reggie gather meaning from his encounter and asked, “What did you think was happening when you saw those lions?”
“When I first saw the cubs, I was delighted like seeing a litter of kittens in a pet store,” Reggie offered, “but then they seemed afraid, so I felt afraid too. When the mom showed up, I was happy she was protecting them.”
“And when you heard the other lion?” Joe asked, trying to determine what was real and what was a dream.
“I guess,” Reggie paused, “I guess I wanted to get up and help protect the cubs, then I heard the big lion growl and it scared me, but I felt like I had to fight him off. Joe? What was really freaky about the whole thing was that I felt like I was in the lion’s world not in my own world.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was a friggin’ lion, Joe! It was so real.”
“Whoa! Reggie. It could have been just a bad nightmare. I worry that you might be taking this too far.
“I suppose, but I feel these animals are trying to communicate with me somehow.”
Joe thought for a moment and said, “God, Reggie. I’m not a Shaman. I’m a scientist. There’s been a smattering of research on intra-species communication, but this goes into the supernatural world and I don’t know how I can help you.”
“Sorry Joe, for being so weird. The whole thing just really felt so real and very bad.”
“I hear you, but I’ve got to tell you something that makes this whole thing even crazier.” Joe hesitated then spoke up, “And don’t let it freak you out more, but P1 was actually in La Tuna Canyon last night—that’s the reason I came here early.”
Reggie turned and stared at Joe for a moment, then turned back and gazed through the windshield at the sky and didn’t say another word the rest of the way home.