Puma Claw

By K. A. Ramstad

“Jimena has to have run through here,” Gabriel grumbled to himself, pulling his sarape tighter. Waving his lantern, he stomped his way through the evergreen forest of Sierra de San Pedro Mártir. The light cast shadows blacker than night.

He huffed and shoved the branches out of his way, the pine smell suffocating him. Wind rustled the branches, the sound too reminiscent of Jimena’s crying. His soul pained at the thought of his wife’s sorrow, yet he couldn’t forget her unbelievable foolishness.

This morning, a hunter gave Jimena a claw from the puma místico, one of the rarest mystical creatures around. She’d told Gabriel that she’d intended to bring it to her stepfather Diego, for the hunter had said that drinking its powder would calm Diego’s nerves and tame his temper. Ai, yi, yi. My wife is the most gullible woman in Mexico to believe him. If the rumors were right and Diego was a sorcerer born on Día de el Puma, that claw wouldn’t soothe his spirits.

Gabriel had called Jimena estúpida after she’d brought it home. In response, Jimena had cried and rushed out the door. He’d searched for her in town until moonrise, then assumed she had run through the woods and back to her stepfather. Gabriel didn’t know how many times he had told her to stay away from Diego. The man had before spewed profanities at her for accidentally spilling salsa on him and made her cry. What if that claw makes him more dangerous? Gabriel’s gut twisted at the thought, and he quickened his feet.

A twig almost poked him in the eye. He growled as he snapped it off and flung it into the distance. A soft breeze broke through his inner turbulence. It carried a feather, which floated toward his cheek and caressed it. It was soft like Jimena’s kiss, and hidden tears stirred up inside him.

A scream shattered the quiet.

Jimena.

He ran. Another shriek pierced his eardrums, the agony rivaling the torment in his heart. He barged through more clustered pine, his feet kicking up dust. Entering a clearing, he faced a burly man grabbing a small woman’s arms. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

Diego loomed against the surrounding boulders like a demonic shadow. Gripping Jimena’s arms tight to her middle, he lifted her in the air and tossed her. A faint moonbeam highlighted the blood oozing through her sleeves and from her waist. Tears glistened on her face, and her whimpers stabbed Gabriel like daggers.

The moonlight carved deep lines in Diego’s maniacal face. “You chica estúpida! You’re supposed to get a brown claw, not white.”

Gabriel’s skin turned cold as Diego’s hands raised into the moonlight. Claws, glinting like knives, extended from the fingertips. Jimena’s blood tinted them, making Gabriel’s stomach roil.

He yanked out his dagger. “Leave her alone!”

Diego jerked his head toward Gabriel and seethed. “You know my secret, don’t you?”

Gabriel froze. He didn’t know the man’s secret for sure, but he wouldn’t dare tell him what he suspected.

Diego’s eyes flickered a hellish orange. He curled his upper lip in a snarl. “I’ll finish you.” He bent over and gritted his teeth.

The flame in the man’s eyes flared, and Gabriel’s throat tightened, almost choking him. Fur sprouted from the arms, rippling with more muscle, then spread over every inch of skin. Fangs grew from the mouth, along with white, threadlike whiskers. Gabriel’s skin prickled as the hands gave way to massive paws, the claws retracting. A long, thin tail sprouted from the body.

Gabriel’s palms grew clammy. The claws extended, and the man-turned-puma charged with a blood-curdling roar.

Adrenaline hardened Gabriel’s body despite his trembling heart. He gripped his dagger tighter. A massive paw reached for him. He jumped to the side but tripped on a stone, sending him to the ground. Shiny fangs rammed toward his face. But he rolled away, hot fury mixed with icy fear. A claw slashed his sarape, creating a sizable tear. He hyperventilated.

The animal pounced, its massive jaws closing in on Gabriel’s neck. Gabriel clenched his teeth, clutched his dagger, and thrust it into the monster’s throat.

His pulse throbbed in his ears as he sank his weapon deeper. The monster screamed, blood streaming over its broad chest.  The tongue hung out, and the puma collapsed. Gabriel scooted on his backside, chest aching. The orange in the creature’s eyes vanished as quick as an extinguished candle flame.

Gabriel stared at the carcass in nightmarish confusion, but Jimena’s whimpers snapped him out of his daze. The word estúpida reverberated in his mind until it jabbed his soul. He crawled toward her side, swallowing the lump in his throat. She moaned as she struggled to lift her head.

He ripped off the sleeves and bottom of his shirt and bound her wounds. He slipped off his sarape, wrapped her shivering form with it, and slid his arms underneath her.

His body shook as he lifted her and cradled her close. Heading for the nearest healer, he took care not to stumble no matter how much his body kept rattling from what they’d been through. He had to say it, or it would rip him apart. “I’m sorry.’”

She looked up at him, her face white and her eyes blank. Her voice came out as a strained whisper. “I was—so—estúpida.”

Shame flooded Gabriel’s being. “No, you were only frightened. But you’re safe now, and I’ll protect you—and your heart—from any hurt.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

K. A. Ramstad lives at the foot of the Bitterroot Mountains in western Montana. She enjoys writing about young heroes, their travels, and their animal friends. Her short stories are featured in Chipper Press’ middle grade anthologies The Spelunkers and The Princess, and she reviews children’s books on Jennifer Hallmark’s blog “Off the Beaten Track.” Besides reading and writing stories, she loves coffee, her Corgi Maggie, and her cockapoo Benny.

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Author Website