Nomy left her house where she lived with her grandparents and her mother like she did every school day and walked down the lane to where the bus picked her up. It was a long walk, as her house was in the tiny town of Glastenbury and her school was in the next town over. Glastenbury wasn’t really a town anymore and Nomy’s house was the last one left that anyone lived in. All the others were crumbling and falling down and said to be haunted.
When she got to the bus stop, there were two other children there, as there were every morning—Buddy and Crow. The first thing you should know about Buddy and Crow is that they weren’t brother and sister. Nor were they boyfriend and girlfriend. They were cousins, and they came from bad stock. Their parents were mean to everyone in town, and when your parents are mean, you grow up to be mean as well. The school bus stop was right in front of both of their houses, although when you looked, it was hard to tell where the junk from one house ended and the junk from the next house began.
Nomy was in the same grade as Buddy and Crow, but much younger than them. She had been bumped up a grade, Buddy and Crow had both been held back a grade. Looking at them standing at the bus stop, you’d never think that all three of them were in the same grade, but they were.
“Whatcha got there?” asked Buddy when Nomy walked up to the bus stop.
Nomy held up the photograph she was carrying. “This is a picture of a catamount. A very special white catamount.”
“What’s a catamount?” asked Buddy.
“It’s the same thing as a cougar or a mountain lion.”
“Then why don’t you call it a mountain lion?” asked Crow.
“Because in Vermont, we call them catamounts.”
“Lemme see that,” said Buddy. He snatched the picture from Nomy and looked at it. “This is a trail-cam picture. All the animals look white in them! You can’t even tell it’s an animal. You probably just ran in front of the camera!”
“It IS a white catamount. It’s Mrs. Wapachoo.”
“Pfffffttt!! Ha!” Buddy laughed. “What kind of a stupid name is Wapachoo?” He stood menacingly, smacking an old axe handle in his hand. Buddy carried this everywhere. It used to be painted red with a gold trim, but it was worn and dirty, with only bits of color now showing. Crow stood next to him, adjusting the old purple cap that she always wore. It was hardly purple, really. It was so old and sun-bleached that it was more light lavender than anything else. Crow’s real name was Carissa or Camilla or something—nobody remembered. Everyone called her Crow because when she laughed, that’s what she sounded like. She laughed now, and Buddy smacked the axe handle a few more times.
“Please give me my picture back,” said Nomy.
Buddy mimicked Nomy’s voice and taunted her with the picture, then he tore it into shreds and threw the pieces on the ground. “There no such thing as a catamount!” he said.
Nomy started collecting the scattered pieces while Buddy ground the ones that he could reach into the ground with his axe handle. Crow laughed.
That afternoon, Nomy got off the school bus at the end of the dirt lane that went up to Glastenbury and started walking home.
“Hey,” called out Buddy. “There’s no such thing as a catamount!” Nomy stopped and turned around. “And i bet i could kill it even if there was,” he added, smacking his axe handle into his palm.
“Meet me at my house at six o’clock and i’ll show you where i saw her.” said Nomy.
“I’m not goin’ up to your dump of a house!” said Buddy.
Crow laughed again. Nomy almost laughed as well, considering how much of a dump both Buddy and Crow’s houses were.
“Are you afraid?” asked Nomy. “I thought you were tough. I guess not.” She turned and started walking away.
“Hey! I’m not afraid of anything!”
“Then prove it!” said Nomy without turning around. “Six o clock.”
“I’m taking Bulo for a walk!” said Nomy as she left the house. Her mother told her to be back before it got too dark. She said that she would, and started walking down the lane toward where she caught the bus every morning. Bulo, her dog, ran off in front of her. In a few minutes, Buddy and Crow appeared, walking toward her. Bulo stopped and growled once, then trotted up to them.
“Get your stupid dog away from me!” shouted Crow. She kicked at Bulo but he was too quick and dodged out of the way. Then he lost interest in the two of them and bounded off into the woods.
“So where’s this stupid mountain lion?” asked Buddy.
“This way,” said Nomy. She turned off of the lane onto a smaller road that was really more of a dirt track through the woods. Buddy and Crow followed, noisily clumping through the carpet of dead leaves on the ground. In a minute, Bulo popped out of the trees on the path in front of them.
“How’d he get up there?” asked Crow.
“He can teleport,” said Nomy.
“Liar!” said Buddy with scorn. “Nobody can teleport!”
“Bulo can. He’ll be way behind me, then suddenly he’ll come out of the woods up in front of me. He teleports.”
“You’re crazy.” said Buddy.
“More like stupid,” added Crow.
Nomy didn’t say anything. She kept walking until Buddy and Crow started complaining that she was leading them nowhere and this was too far and they ought to turn around and go home. But they kept following her until she stopped at an old stone wall in the middle of the woods. The sun had set and clouds of mist were starting to form between the trees. Nomy pointed past the stone wall, up a hill.
“See those rocks? That’s where Mrs. Wapachoo lives.”
“Oh yeah?” said Buddy, nervously grasping his axe handle. “Prove it. Go up there.”
Nomy sighed quietly. Bulo appeared from the trees and came up next to her, looking up at the rocks. The fur on the back of his neck stood up and he made a low growl.
“What’s he growling at?” asked Crow. She took her cap off and put it back on, then did it again. Nomy could tell that Crow was scared.
“It’s a catamount, obviously,” said Nomy. “You’re not scared of it, are you?”
“No!” insisted Crow. But she kept fiddling with her cap, peering through the darkening gloom. “Do they eat people?” she asked.
“Only dumb ones,” answered Nomy, smiling privately to herself.
Hey, shut up!” said Buddy. “I told you to go up there!” He stepped over to Nomy and pushed her, hard. She fell down in the dirt and scraped her hand on the stone wall. And then, because Buddy and Crow were just mean, they started kicking Nomy. Bulo barked at them and Buddy swung his axe handle, hitting Bulo on his back leg. Bulo’s barks turned to yelps and he spun in circles. Nomy tried to catch him but was knocked back by another swing of Buddy’s axe handle. Her arm shot with pain and went numb—he’d probably broken a bone. She pushed herself up with her other arm only to be kicked down again by Crow.
“Stop it!” yelled Nomy, but it was no use. Buddy and Crow were doing what they liked to do, and that was hurt people, especially people smaller than them. She screamed “STOP!” again and when she did, they paused—just long enough for Nomy to scramble over the tumble of stones in front of her. She stood up and backed into the woods—into the fog, toward the big rocks up the slope. Bulo came to her side, limping and wimpering. They moved carefully, watching Buddy and Crow stare back at them, too scared to cross over the stone wall, until the darkness and fog enveloped them.
Nomy kneeled down and held tightly to Bulo. “Let’s go home,” she whispered. And in the blink of an eye, the fog around them swirled, the ground shifted slightly under Nomy’s feet, and she looked up to see her house, lights shining in from the kitchen window, the only sign of life among the abandoned husks of the houses of Glastenbury. “Thank you, Bulo,” she said, and they went home for dinner.
When Nomy stepped off her porch in the morning to walk down the lane to catch the bus, her mother said “Now Nomy, be careful along those stone walls. Don’t break your other arm!”
Nomy looked down at the cast on her arm, then back at her mother. “I’ll be careful.” she said.
“Good,” said her mother. Then she frowned, looking out into the yard. “I told you not to leave your things out. Put those away before you go to school.”
“Okay, mum,” said Nomy. She walked out to the edge of the yard where a weathered old axe handle and a faded purple cap were laying on the ground. In the mud next to them was a carefully-placed paw print—a paw print from a very large cat.
“Thank you Mrs. Wapachoo,” said Nomy softly, then she walked down the lane to school.