The Silver Fox and other Stories
A collection of short
stories
by Luz Lancha de Bairacli Levy
daughter of Juliette de Bairacli Levy.
Published online by Ash Tree Publishing
Compensation (part 1)
by Luz Lancha de Bairacli Levy © 2007
The Silver Fox and other Stories - Table of Contents
I was standing by an open window looking at the sea. A silver patch of light lay across the water; dark clouds overhead created large shadows upon the sea. A silver ray of light illuminated the island in the distance. As the clouds passed over it, I watched the changing light upon the rocky island. Intricate patterns played upon the massive white cliffs. The intensity of light upon the island served me as an indicator of the quality and of the density of brightness; my profession as photographer depends totally upon the awareness of these intermediations.
The sun shone suddenly with a bright flare. I went out to the balcony. The sea was lapping against the tiny pebbles on the beach below my house. A cool breeze came from the sea, filling me with energy. I planned to take my dog for a run before the rain returned. I could see dark, threatening clouds lurking in the distance over the high blue mountains.
Then I saw the man! There he was, passing by as usual, his large mastiff running gaily beside him. The dog played chase with the tide, barking at the tiny pebbles as they were drawn back and forth.
He was a tall, elegant man, always dressed in grey and blue shades, and always walked very upright. Sometimes he held a stick which he would throw for the dog to catch. His dog was massive, a light fawn color with a jet-black muzzle and ears.
I always feared that one day as I walked mine along the beach, our dogs would encounter each other and then there would be a terrible fight. So, I usually waited for them to pass before taking Kabul down to the beach.
They always seemed to go by only in one direction, so I assumed that they must walk back along the cliffs, along a path that runs parallel to the beach.
I whistled to Kabul and down we went. I love to watch my dog as he runs. A large golden Afghan hound, his dignity and his aloofness never cease to fascinate me. His light gallop shows great elasticity as he springs in his powerful stride, his long tail and his head held upright as he moves.
He stood now, very still, gazing into the distance. I could see someone running towards me, waving his hands frantically. It was the owner of the mastiff. I recognized him by the grey-blue coloring of his clothes. There was no sign of his dog.
I whistled to my dog, thinking it would be best to put him on the lead, in case the other dog came up suddenly by surprise. I heard a faint gallop behind me. I turned around in alarm, and there he stood!
His black eyes glared fixedly at my dog, who was by now alert and brisk and ready to fight, his tail and head held up very high, as if to add more presence to his fine delicate form. Both dogs stood motionless like two magnificent statues. They were of similar coloring and almost the same size, mine being a large male.
I called to my dog in a low commanding voice. He paid no attention, being totally taken up in the excitement of finally encountering, face to face, his long-time enemy. Both dogs began to snarl at each other.
In the meantime, the owner of the mastiff came running up to me. “Put your dog on the lead, draw him back. They are going to fight! Don’t stand there like that!” he demanded angrily.
“You put your dog on the lead, sir!” I replied.
He gave me a piercing glare, and began commanding his dog. “King! Come here, King!” The dog ignored his master. The fight began.
Both dogs leapt into the air and snapped at each other’s necks. Next they stood motionless, but then suddenly they began circling each other, snapping and snarling.
“Kabul! Stop that! Enough!” I shouted to my dog, but my effort was completely wasted. The fight resumed with greater fierceness. It was as if two savage beasts fought before us.
“Do something! Don’t stand there like that!” the man called out.
“What? What do you want me to do?”
“Stop them!”
“How?”
“Stop them, I don’t care how!” His eyes glared at me.
He came up behind me and thrust me towards the dogs with great force. The mastiff swung round and grabbed my arm, easily penetrating my thin jacket and instantly digging his sharp teeth into my flesh. The man grabbed his dog by the collar, and quickly put him on the lead.
My arm began to bleed through my jacket, immediately creating a large red stain. Blood began dripping down the back of my hand. I felt no pain; my entire arm was numb.
The mastiff calmed down, but my dog continued to snarl. The man scowled at me, then walked briskly away, holding his dog on a very short lead.
I took off my jacket, and examined the wound; fang marks showed clearly. Two deep holes on each side of my arm poured out blood. I washed my arm in the sea, then wrapped the sleeve of my jacket around the wound as a temporary bandage.
I was still shaking from shock, when later at home, I attended to my arm. It began to throb painfully; I lay back on the couch and closed my eyes.
by Luz Lancha de Bairacli Levy © 2007
for reprint permission, contact Ash Tree Publishing
PO Box 64 Woodstock NY 12498
or write to: wisewoman@herbshealing.com
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