Courage's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Courage wanted to be brave. His family lived alone on this farm, and a good dog would guard them. But for three nights a shadow had circled the fence, and Courage had done nothing except shake under the kitchen table. Now he heard it again. Claws scraped the dirt outside. A low snuffling passed the door. His legs trembled so hard his tags rattled. He told his feet to move toward the door. They would not go. Upstairs his family slept. If the thing got in, they would wake to teeth. That thought was worse than the door. Courage crawled forward on his belly, one paw at a time, until his nose touched the wood. The snuffling stopped. He pressed his eye to the gap under the door and looked out. In the moonlight stood a coyote, lean and gray, its coat rough along the spine. It sniffed at something in the yard. Its eyes were bright and quick, and it moved like it owned the ground. Courage's heart slammed. He wanted to run back to the table. Instead he thought of his family's faces. He gripped the latch with both paws and pushed. The door swung open. The coyote spun. Courage froze on the step, small and shaking. For a second neither moved. Then the coyote's lip curled. Courage did the only thing his body allowed. He screamed. It was a long, high howl, louder than a dog his size should make. The coyote flinched. Lights snapped on in the farmhouse windows. Courage kept screaming, backing toward the door, and the coyote turned and bolted across the yard. It cleared the fence in one leap and vanished into the field. Courage stood alone on the step. He had faced it. His legs had carried him after all. He looked at the open gate the coyote had squeezed through and felt, for one breath, almost brave. Then he saw what the coyote had been sniffing. Near the barn lay a torn feed sack, its contents dragged and scattered. Beside it the chicken pen stood open, the wire bent low. Feathers dotted the mud. The coyote had not just been circling. It had already gotten in once, and it had learned the way. A thin cry came from the field where the coyote had fled. One of the hens was still out there. Courage's family thumped down the stairs behind him, calling his name. The coyote was gone for tonight. But it knew this farm now, and it would come back hungry. Courage looked at the dark field and knew he could not wait behind a door again.