“Put your hands up and get up slowly,” said the girl aiming her rifle at the back of the head of the crouched man. “You better have a good reason for creeping around the bushes in our farm.”
“I’m putting my hands up,” the man said. “I don’t have any weapons.”
He stood up with his hands behind his head, like someone who was all-too-familiar with the procedure.
“Now turn around slowly,” she told him. “Don’t try anything funny, or I’m gonna blow your pecker off.”
He turned slowly, and when he saw her, he raised his eyebrows and then narrowed his eyes.
“Where did a little lady like you learn such a bad word?”
She lowered her gun and pointed it between his legs.
“Why are you here?” she said ignoring his question. “You the one who stole our ducks?”
“Ducks? I assure you, I did not steal any of your ducks. My name is Ryan Higgs. I’m an engineer conducting research for a company called Advanced Avionics. If you open the strap pouch on that backpack, then you’ll find my ID.”
She waved the gun so he’d step aside. Her movements were fluid and precise. The gun hovering steady like a hummingbird as she knelt and retrieved his ID.
“Somebody stole our ducks,” she said after perusing the documents, “and since you’re sneaking about like a racoon, I reckoned you might be the dirty rotten thief.”
“I was merely looking for butterflies,” he told her.
She snorted with laughter. “Why would a grown man be chasing butterflies in the bushes?”
“Like I said, I’m an engineer, and I’m conducting research. I’m studying their behavior, so I was tracking them with my GPS device, but I must’ve gone off course. ”
“That’s quite the tale,” she said, lowering her gun. “If what you say is true, then you’re wasting your time around here. The butterflies are somewhere else this time of day.”
“Oh, where might that be?”
She nodded westward. "Other side of the valley."
“Then I’ll hike that way,” he said and bent down to pick up his backpack.
“It’s pretty rough going,” she said. “There’s also a bear den nearby.”
“A bear den?”
“She’s a mean bitch with cubs.”
Ryan looked around at the thick tangled wilderness. He did not seem like a man who feared danger. But to die out there was to die alone, possibly in the maws of a wild creature.
“I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in being my guide, would you?” he finally told the girl.
“What’s in it for me?” she said adjusting her straw hat.
He thought about it. “I have some trail mix bars in my backpack.”
“Trail mix bars! I’m not putting my life in danger for junk food.”
“Well, I don’t have any cash.”
“You have that nice watch,” she said eyeing the black piece on his wrist.
He shook his head. “Company property.”
“I’ll tell you what then, I’ll take you there, and all you have to do is tell me exactly what you’re up to.”
He looked at her for a moment and then, with some hesitation, he nodded.
“Very well, Missy. You got a deal.”
“Don’t call me Missy,” she told him. “I’m not a child, buddy. Old enough to vote and old enough to put an extra hole in a grown man. My name is Lilly, by the way.”
“Lilly. That’s a pretty name.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas either, old man, or butterflies won't be the only things you'll be missing.”
“Old man? I’m still in my thirties, I’ll have you know.”
“From where I stand," she said swaying her head and looking shrewdly into his eyes, "all I see is a dirty old coot. Heh! Let's get a move on, grandpa.”
Laughing, she slung her gun over her shoulder and began walking down the overgrown trail leading into the thick bush.
He strapped on his backpack and followed after her, questioning the wisdom of making a deal with this devilish little lady.
Related tales
Guns & Flutter, pt. 1