The Howl

Continued from “The Rooftop”

Gonga drifted about halfway up the metal stairway and paused to flatten himself against the wall as the security guard passed by overhead. He counted the seconds as the guard paused and continued his round. Breathing out gently, Gonga crept up the remaining stairs and swung down the waist high ledge surrounding the roof. He took a couple steps into the middle of the black roofing material, then flattened himself on the ground to observe.

Above, the stars shone faintly, fighting their way through the glare of Columbia’s lights to make an appearance on the rooftop.

A light switched on in a window about twenty feet from Gonga’s position on the roof. Someone rummaged past the turned window shades and around the desk. The shadow captured Gonga’s attention for a minute, then the light flicked off again and a door slammed.

It was late. Gonga realized that he didn’t even hear traffic from his rooftop hiding place.

What time was it? Two in the morning?

Then he heard it.

A shriek. Sneakers pounding across pavement.

A panicked whimper. Then someone wildly clanging up the stairway.

I snaked over to the edge of the roof and rose, carefully lifting my head over the edge of the parapet.

A second set of footsteps charged up the stairway, doubling the echoes crashing back and forth in the alleyway.

With a frightened gasp, a girl flung herself over the edge of the wall. “Help!” she shouted, stumbling forward into the darkness.

Half turning towards the ladder she snarled, “Leave me alone!” Her words held the dangerous note of an animal at bay.

At that moment, Gonga stepped into the full force of his rightfull glory. His huge, shaggy body loomed up in the moonlight, fists pounding his chest. He took one leap forward onto the top step of the ladder and flung his head back in a howl; a wild, pulsing howl that straight from the depths of his home in Africa.

To be continued…