Chương 2: Breaking and Entering

Fortunately, I'd died at the edge of the garden instead of on the porch. Burying my old body was out of the question, but covering it? That I could do. With rocks, lots of small rocks. Even those would probably end up giving me a hernia, I thought, already dreading how much work this was going to take. First though, I need to minimize the smell. Ash from the campfire would come first. Then I covered my old body with the soot before adding dirt.

After that, I bit the bullet and dug up a few onions and some mint from the garden to mask the odor. Finally, I added the rocks. Surprisingly, I didn't get a hernia. I guess having a young body does have its advantages, I thought. Still, it took me forever. By the time I was done, it was already dark. That didn't really matter too much though since raccoons could see well in the dark. Unfortunately, the work did make me hungry and thirsty. Reluctantly, I dug up and ate a few of my precious fresh veggies.

As for water, there was still a pail near the garden from when I'd been planning to water at sunset. After that, I was ready to face my next problem, getting into the cabin. The firewood stack by the door looked climbable, so I started there. I scrambled up the logs while my tail flicked around trying to keep me balanced. When I got to the top, I stretched out for the door latch and managed to grab onto it before my back paws slipped off the firewood. As I was falling, I managed to hold tightly onto the latch.

That left me hanging there for a moment. Still, I succeeded, I thought, mentally giving myself a pat on the back. Then I braced my back paws against the door and yanked the latch downward. I was rewarded with the bolt moving to the open position. Victory! I thought triumphantly until I realized I was just hanging there like an idiot. If I let go to pull the door open, the latch would just snap right back up. Sighing, I realized that I needed to push off against the door frame while still maintaining my grip.

Unfortunately, that was when the latch slipped out of my grasp and I fell onto my bottom. I wasn't about to let that stop me though and tried again. This time, I did manage to push off against the door frame, but I didn't move the door a single inch. Fudge me! I had to go and buy a heavy door to protect myself from bears, I mentally berated myself. Shot myself in the foot there, didn't I? After a few more failed attempts, I stared at the door and rubbed my furry backside. Great. Just great. So much for that plan.

Then I looked up at the roofline near the chimney, already considering what to do next. Although it wouldn't be fun, I could try climbing down the chimney. Yep, wonderful. Crawling into tight, soot-choked tunnels was exactly how I wanted to spend my afterlife. I climbed back up the firewood and jumped onto the windowsill. After that, I scrambled onto the mossy shingles. Once I was on the roof, I glared at the chimney. Now all I have to do is imitate Kris Kringle.

Actually, although I hated admitting it, I used to look a little like him. White beard and everything. At least my stomach hadn't been too big. Well, not quite as big as his anyway. Realizing I was getting distracted, I focused on the present. The chimney was going to be full of creosote since I hadn't cleaned it out recently. The oily gunk was definitely going to stick to my fur. I shuddered at the thought of how long it would take to wash out. Slowly, I inched my way downward.

Finally, I reached the bottom with a puff of ash. By that time, I was both exhausted and covered in soot. Not to mention, my ego and butt were bruised. But at least I'm in, I thought as I glanced around the room. The cabin looked the same as I'd left it that morning. Everything seemed huge now, though. The furniture looked massive. The coffee table looked like a skyscraper.

"Okay," I said out loud, finally feeling safe enough to try speaking. I hadn't wanted to say anything while I was outside. Even when I was on the roof, I didn't feel safe. When I heard my voice, I was both disappointed and relieved. It wasn't great, but at least it was comprehensible. I'd been a little worried that I'd wasted my evolution, truth be told. That was when my stomach spoke, growling at me to do something. For some reason, it was embarrassing, even with nobody around to hear it.

Listening to my new body, I made my way to the kitchen. That was when the real challenge started. Opening the refrigerator meant climbing the cabinet drawers to reach the counter. At least it wasn't going to be as heavy as the front door, which was reinforced with metal. That didn't mean it was going to be easy, though.

"Nothing has been easy since I was reincarnated," I muttered, scrambling up the knobs and drawer fronts. I only slipped once before I finally managed to haul myself up. The fridge was right there. I grabbed the handle and yanked like a furry little maniac. This time, I made sure to brace my back legs against the edge of the fridge. However, I still managed to accomplish exactly nothing. I tried again, and still nothing. Seriously? My own fridge is betraying me, I complained.

Whichever it was, whether the magnetic seal or the partial vacuum, the fridge won that particular war. I took comfort in the fact that the fridge and I had something in common. We're both incredibly cool and refuse to open up to anyone. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Still, I couldn't accept the loss and angrily tried one final time. Sadly, this only resulted in me hanging from the door, again, swinging like a piñata.

"Whatever," I muttered as I gave up and dropped to the ground. Probably malnourished, I thought. Maybe that's why I'm so small. Then again, it could have been worse. I could have been reincarnated as a squirrel. Stupid squirrels. Rats with fluffy tails are all they are. I climbed back up onto the counter and spotted the open cereal box, Honey Smacks. Well, at least I won't starve. I'm Dig'in, I thought as I looked at Dig'um on the cereal box. You get that, right? I asked the frog.

When I was done, I noticed the glass of water I'd left on the counter. It was lukewarm, but I didn't care. Since my immediate concern was taken care of, I looked around. My heart almost stopped when I caught my reflection in the microwave door. I still wasn't used to the fact that I was now a small, extremely dirty raccoon.

"At least I'm not dead," I muttered. That had to count for something. My biggest problems now were pretty basic. Food, warmth, and not getting eaten. Speaking of not getting eaten, that wolf was at it again. But at least I'm inside now. Still, that didn't stop me from shivering when I heard the howl. As the disturbing sound faded, I decided it was time for a nice long bath. I climbed down, nearly slipping because of my oily paws, and headed toward the bathroom.

Since I'd worked too hard getting the cabin the way I liked it, there was no way in hell I was going to take a shit on the floor. I'm not a fricking animal, I thought. Then I realized what I'd said and started grumbling incoherently to myself. The toilet was ridiculously tall, like it was personally offended by my height. But, compared to the front door and the fridge door, I was looking forward to a victory. That victory would start with me climbing the shower curtain and then dropping onto the toilet.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at the shower curtain and then at the toilet, psyching myself up. Shelly had given me the shower curtain last Christmas, saying I needed 'a little more positivity in my life.' She had one of those overly positive outlooks on life. If she reincarnated, I was pretty sure she'd be a golden retriever. Needless to say, the curtain matched her personality perfectly. It was covered in cheerful watercolor mountains and inspirational quotes, such as: Today is a new beginning.

Be the best version of you. You've got this! I can do this, I reassured myself. See, even the shower curtain says I can do it. I dug my claws into the cloth curtain and pulled myself up. Rip. Rip. RIP-RIP-RIP.

"No! No, no, no, no… Shelly gave me that!" Hearing the ripping sound, I paused, not wanting the rips to get worse. Then gingerly, I tried climbing again, slowly. RIP. That's not good, I thought as I realized I'd totally ripped up her present. I stared at my claws buried in the word 'version,' now shredded down the middle. My throat tightened.

"Oh, come on," I whimpered, my voice cracking.

"She picked this out for me. She thought it would make me smile." I tugged my paw free. The fabric tore even more.

"Stop! No! Stop tearing!" I practically begged. The mountainous sunset artwork now looked like someone had murdered optimism itself. I sat there, clinging halfway up the ruined curtain, staring at the damage. My chest hurt. Not from the heart attack, though. After a moment, I shook myself and dropped to the back of the toilet tank. The lid was still up. Thank God. Then I did what I came to do, terrified the whole time I'd fall in. At least with the wolf I'd die with dignity.

Still, at least I have a victory, I comforted myself. Then looking once more at the destroyed shower curtain, I reluctantly added, At a cost. After that, I climbed onto the sink and turned on the touch faucet. The warm water hit my fur and for a few minutes, I almost felt human. The black soot was stubborn. I pushed the soap dispenser, got some suds going, and scrubbed until my paws ached. By the end, I was exhausted. I dragged the guest towel from the bar to dry myself, then wrapped it around my waist.

Once satisfied, I made my way to the living room and crawled up the side of the recliner. That was when the wolf howled again outside.

"What the hell is going on out there?" I muttered. The howls were getting closer. In fact, they almost sounded like they were right outside my window.

"I guess I need to be extra careful next time I leave the house." Then again, there wasn't much reason to leave. I had food, water, shelter. So screw you, Mr. Wolf. I grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix. A Guardians of the Galaxy poster filled the screen. I found myself staring at Rocket Raccoon. I glared up at the heavens and shook my tiny paw.

"Really? REALLY!?" After a moment, I sighed and settled in, grumbling about being the butt of a cosmic joke.

"I'm a poor man's Rocket Raccoon," I said, testing my vocal cords.

"Except instead of plasma cannons and a spaceship, I've got tiny paws and a solar panel that makes weird noises. That and my enemies are doors and commodes instead of Ronin the Accuser." I practiced speaking along with the dialogue, working on getting my voice less squeaky. The words didn't always come out perfectly, but I was improving. That didn't stop me from getting annoyed with the characters though.

"Chris Pratt, you hack!" I complained.

"I'm a baby raccoon and I've got better comedic timing! You should have hired me, Abraham, instead." Outside, something made a weird choking sound. I looked at the window and saw a dark shadow staring at me. A wolf, that loud obnoxious wolf that had been bothering me all night. Annoyed, I gave him the finger. Then I screamed at it, "Don't interrupt movie night," I yelled. The wolf jumped back into the darkness, making a yipping sound like his foot had been caught in a trap.

I guess talking raccoons aren't a normal experience for him, I thought with a satisfied smirk. That'll teach you to spy on me. Then I froze. I was quite small, and a wolf could break into the house if it wanted to. Although I'd reinforced the door, the windows were another story. I wrapped the blanket around me as my mind started to spiral. I'd always kept an open mind about Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster. Those were just undiscovered biology. But reincarnation? Talking animals?

That was some Disney-level nonsense I wasn't prepared for. But if I was possible, what else was out there in the dark? If a raccoon could talk, maybe those old stories about things in the woods weren't just campfire tales. I glanced at the window, suddenly realizing that I might be in more danger than I had thought. There had been reports of weird animals, power outages, and other strange things happening. I just happened to be one of those strange things. Now those weren't just strange stories.

They might be apocalyptic signs warning everyone about the end of the world. Then that wolf howled again. There was something different about it this time. I swear to God, I can almost hear him calling out to the others, telling them about a bite-sized happy meal with a big mouth. I held very still under the blanket. After a few minutes, I started to relax.

"Well," I whispered to the empty cabin, "at least it can't get any weirder than this." I regretted it immediately. Apparently, I hadn't learned anything from horror movies.