The Main Mane in Maine

This story was originally posted on Medium.

Everyone knows about the small pride of lions that roam the woods here in this small, northern Maine town. Few of us have ever seen them. One time I thought I did… but no… it was just a few deer, thick and paunchy, with their heads lowered for a brief moment.

But a few families had encounters with them… when they would prowl onto people’s property, knocking over trash cans and the like. They are lions, so they are dangerous. But they are aware they are in the wrong place. They are smart. They know to be scared. They know to make themselves scarce.

The pride of lions, six of them, two males and four females, they were captured about a year ago by some men who fancy themselves real men because they can shoot a dart at an animal from afar and drag it across the ocean. They brought the lions back here to Maine… to be used in a roadside exhibit. Disgusting if you ask me.

The lions awoke from their slumber minutes before it was thought they would. They put up a fight, they slashed and bit, they escaped.

Beautiful if you ask me.

These lions have never killed anyone. In fact, they’ve only ever hurt two different people. John Lee, because he wasn’t paying attention. And Kimmy Coltrane, because she thought she could help to capture the lions.

They know they are in the wrong place. They know to make themselves scarce.

The pride of lions avoid as much human contact as possible, only coming out of the woods when they need food.

I’m in the portion of the woods where the lions have been said to have been spotted on multiple occasions. I used to come running through here in hopes I would catch a glimpse of the glorious beasts. I never did.

Eventually, the trail I found in these woods became my regular running route.

So, here I am, 5:30 A.M., running my usual route. No longer looking for lions, but in the back of my head hoping I’ll see them.

It’s a dewy day, the air is wetter and lighter and easier to breathe. I feel I have more energy so I take the trail deeper than usual. The farther into the woods I go, the thicker it becomes with trees. The more beautiful it is.

I push myself more and more… until my lungs feel they might burst… then I finally stop for a break. This past year of running has really helped me to slim down. I’m not quite where I want to be yet. No one dares call me Heavy Kevvy anymore… but I’m still not quite Skinny Kevvy.

I don’t know if that name will catch on… but I will try like hell to make it.

I crouch down, wrists resting on my knees, breathing deeply, trying to catch my breath. The woods smell so delicious this deep… it’s as if I am taking in an aromatic plant soup. Maybe that doesn’t sound so appealing to everyone… but it does to me.

Maybe I’ll treat myself to a pho when I’m done here. Only one place in Northern Maine that makes good pho. I searched all over. Most people up here don’t know what it is. Most places that try to imitate it do a poor job. The one place that does it right… right behind my home. The street behind me.

I hear a twig snap. My eyes and ears perk up.

Is it one of the lions?!

I don’t dare move. I lift my eyes without moving my head. I scan my surroundings. To my left, movement. As if the leaves are moving.

It is a man, dressed in camouflage. Actually, two men in camouflage. They hardly move through the woods into a sort of clearing. They do not see me at all. I notice they have large guns. Hunting guns. I do not move. I squint my eyes to get a better shot of the two of them.

Yep… the same assholes that brought the lions over here. Trying to make a quick buck, exploiting some animals. Now, they’re trying to kill some animals.

I narrow my eyes as I study them. I remember seeing their faces on the news. Their faces appear much more withered, even in just a year’s time. This past year hasn’t been kind to them.

Good.

“There they are. Over there.” One of them whispers.

The other one becomes rigid. I see the direction in which one of them is pointing. I allow my eyes to follow the path his finger directs… slowly… and then I see it… shrouded by the darkness and the vegetation… I see eyes.

At first I see four eyes… then I can slowly make out the other eight.

12 in total.

Six lions.

There they stand, almost completely hidden. The eyes stare right back at the men. The lions know they are here. But do the lions know what the guns mean? They would feel confident if it was just those six lions versus these two men. But do they know the disadvantage they are at when the two men have guns?

It’s no secret to anyone here, these men, and countless others have been hunting these lions ever since they escaped. No longer trying to trap them and imprison them in a roadside attraction. Now, just trying to kill them. Rid the town of them. As if these lions were doing anything wrong. As if these men were trying to kill the lions to stop the lions’ crimes. No, these men were trying to kill the lions to cover up their own wrongdoings.

They brought the lions here, took them out of their element, placed them where they didn’t belong. Now, these men are upset with the lions’ presence and wish to kill them.

Should I shout out and tell these lions to run? Tell them the men have guns? Will they even know what that means? No, of course not. It might even make matters worse. What should I do?

I slowly wrap my hand around a stone. I clutch it in my fist. I narrow my eyes at the hunters. I am ready. I am getting ready to cock my arm back when suddenly… WHOOSH!

Two of the lions take off in opposite directions. The hunters panic, spinning to either side and firing their guns. Shot after shot, miss after miss. They whip their guns back towards the original spot of the lions… only four eyes left there. The other two have left.

The hunters jump out into the clearing, moving away from the trees, giving themselves space to react… space to fight.

They’re spinning around, shooting their guns wildly. I drop to my belly as bullets soar right over my head. The hunters continue spinning around. The four eyes that never moved, they emerge from their cover. Two male lions. Both with thick manes. One of them is larger, hairier, redder in color. This lion steps forward past the other lion. He must be the leader.

The hunters spin towards the male lions and without hesitation the main lion leaps into action, charging the two men. Bullets ring out but the lion never stops. He is so swift. He jumps from ten feet away and lands right on one of the men.

From my vantage point I cannot see much. But I see enough blood and organs and skin flying about to know that man has pulled his last trigger. The other hunter is backing away, reloading his gun. He backs into a tree where one of the female lions jumps down from, hitting him in the back. He stumbles forward and falls just before the main lion.

The lion doesn’t hesitate and jumps right on the next hunter. More pieces of human are flung about. And then there is stillness. It is quiet.

All the lions come out of their cover and convene in the center of the clearing. They nibble at bits of the hunters. They are slow. They don’t eat much. Maybe they are saving them for later.

The cold gets to me. I shiver. Suddenly, the lions all look up… as if they sensed the vibration of my body through the dirt. I lay perfectly still, but it doesn’t matter. These are intuitive animals. The 12 eyes all look into my direction and then they spot me quickly. They study me. I am too afraid to move. Running would be idiotic. Laying here may also be idiotic, but it feels like the right thing to do.

All six lions begin to walk towards me, eyes trained on me. They near closer and closer… they get within 20 feet of me… still ambling right towards me. The females walk in front and veer off to the side, walking past me, their eyes now looking ahead. One male veers a little closer to me but loses interest and walks off.

Bringing up the rear of the pack is that main lion. With the larger mane, the hairier mane, the redder mane. He walks in a calculated manner, one paw after another, leading himself right up to me. I am still on my belly, but my head is lifted and my face is looking straight at him. He inches closer to me and brings his face right towards mine. I don’t move.

He doesn’t stop until his nose is three inches from mine. I’d say I am holding my breath but I am certain all breath has completely departed me. The lion exhales and I feel the blast of warm air hit my face. It isn’t a pleasant smell. It almost smells of the sea… like high tide.

The lion cocks his head slightly to one side, eyes studying me. I have no choice but to look back at his eyes. They hold no malice. They are just eyes. Large eyes. I find myself lost in his pupils. They contain such character.

The lion snorts and a puff of air blasts me in the face again. He lifts his head and walks off past me, following the rest of his pride.

I lie in this spot in the woods for about 10 minutes before I stand up to study my surroundings. The lions were long gone. The coast is clear. I can head home.

I glance over into the clearing and see the two dead hunters. I leave. I don’t call the police. I don’t tell anyone.

For the rest of my life, if anyone ever asks me if I have seen the lions in the woods of this Northern Maine town… I will tell them no.