Traveling Sprinkler Read Online Free PDF Page A

at twilight I walked up to a baby porcupine near my compost bin. It screamed like a petulant child, and its mother hustled over and turned her back on me, showing her fade haircut. It sounded nothing like this. This was a definite bark. Probably the wild animal, whatever it was, had seen the glow of my computer and been frightened by it. I turned the screen to reflect its eyes, but I couldn’t see any eyes.
    I looked up at the moon and the squinting stars and the black masses of the trees. There was no sound except the distant chirring of crickets. I didn’t want to go inside, because it was very cool outside and there were no mosquitoes and it was a perfect night for thinking, except for the unseen animal that was disconcerted by my being out here in the yard when he or she thought the world was his, or hers. I didn’t want to let my dog out, because he’d smell whatever it was and go crazy barking—he’s a very full-throated barker when he feels it’s necessary—and wake the neighbors. Do raccoons bark? I don’t think so. Somebody said they’d seen a bear near Dead Duck Beach. Do bears bark?
    I heard it again, closer, still behind me. Three short loud rattling barks. Was it dying? Did it hate me? Did it care about me at all?
    I was spooked. I went inside. I looked up “bark bear” on the Internet. Very little. Also “bark wolf” and “bark moose” and “bark deer.” There were lots of hits for barking deer. I watched a murky YouTube video called “Barking Female Deer.” The sound was exactly what I’d heard. Then YouTube wanted me to watch—and I did watch, twice—a video blooper compilation with ninety-seven million views in which a news anchorwoman mistakenly said, “Georgia is the top penis-producing state.” The fallibility of newscasters was comforting. I decided to go back outside because I wasn’t sleepy yet.
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    B ACK OUTSIDE, Ilooked around and noticed that Nan’s kitchen light was on. Then I saw her. She was in her bathrobe, walking slowly back from the chicken hut. Her hair was undone. She usually wore it up.
    I went over. “Nan?” I called.
    â€œHi,” she said.
    â€œDid you hear that?”
    â€œThe barking deer?”
    I nodded. “It totally freaked me out. It was right behind me.”
    â€œYeah, I heard it about a month ago, too.”
    I sensed something in her voice and asked her what was wrong. I figured it might be trouble with Chuck.
    â€œOh, my mom’s not doing well. She was allergic to the painkiller and she got something called Emergency Room Psychosis, and she was having delusions, and now she’s got pneumonia on top of that. It’s just endless.”
    â€œOh, gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said.
    â€œChuck’s away consulting in Korea, which is frustrating. And Raymond’s been in Boston a lot visiting his girlfriend. I miss having him around.”
    â€œOf course,” I said. Raymond is Nan’s son, a tall amiable long-haired young man of about nineteen who’s into music. Nan invited me to his high school graduation, but I couldn’t go because I was giving a reading at U Penn.
    I thought maybe I should hug Nan, but I didn’t because it was late at night and she was wearing a bathrobe. I said, “I’m right here, as you know.” I gestured toward the henhouse. “I can easily do the chickens.”
    â€œThanks, I really like doing the chickens, but yes, if I have to go back to Toronto, I’d appreciate some help. I’m sorry to lay this on you. Nice moon.”
    â€œVery nice moon,” I said. “Also, I was thinking I could water your tomatoes with my traveling sprinkler. If it would help in any way.”
    â€œThat’s very kind of you, but Raymond should be coming back tomorrow,” she said. “I guess I should go in. Nice to see you.