buffalo sally

when we left the bungalow with the metal awning. corrugated, like they sometimes are. hope, max, and i headed towards the back. to a dusty dimly lit corner of the hospital. we laughed with one another, joking about the climb.
when you're around here you'd notice that there's not a whole lot to do or that there's limitless possibilities, depends on how you shape that. so we were gonna climb to the roof. the bungalow was more like a shack. particle board holding it together in a makeshift southern-style. it had a big porch and a banging screen door.
as we passed, our porch on the left, i looked up through the trees. on top of the metal stood a mighty buffalo. snorting and pacing.
"how the hell did a buffalo get up there?" i asked hope.
"i don't know," she said.
max didn't pay it any attention. he was the leader of this adventure.
as we moved, i couldn't help but think of that beast pacing our rooftop.
max grabbed this rope of a wire hanging down in the corner and started his swinging climb. followed by hope and i. we made the first level easy. there was a real slant to it - we went up where we could. it all slanted toward another level. not too easy, not too hard, it was the next bit that proved difficult. the rooftop over another smallish apartment or room was as similar as it could be to a circus tent. max had already scrambled off, as high adventurers do, towards the goal. whatever that goal was. hope and i readied ourselves for this last part.
i flung my right leg over the top, but thought twice when i saw the give. it would be like climbing onto an air ballon or a parachute. too slack. and the climb so far had been hard on me anyway. i didn't want to go out doing something stupid. the boots i was wearing were clunking and i didn't feel safe. so i told hope, "hey, i think i'm going back down." "i'm going too," she said.
we walked back through the empty alley and took the side door into the bungalow. max met us going in, "it wasn't much too look at up there anyway..." he'd said after we explained ourselves.
we were inside where teddy and two others were enjoying conversations. i explained why i didn't climb, "what if i'd fallen - even 8 feet - and landed on an upturned umbrella?"
it was then that i saw people in our drive staring up, presumably at the buffalo, that i remembered the buffalo and began nagging our friends who'd stayed home from the climb to come out and see this. one reluctantly accepted my offer, her blond hair and bath robe trailing us. teddy bounded out.
we got to where the lookers had been. there must've been three or four of them. they left right away. the buffalo hadn't taken well to being photographed and bothered, i suppose. he reared up and back. took a run at the edge of the rooftop. this i saw through the trees. he jumped. he soared past the trees and kept it up. a hundred feet or more. i didn't think he could survive the jump. i thought it would crush him to dust. it didn't. he landed as majestically as he'd jumped. the ripple of his fur and muscle as his forepaws hit the dirt was divinity. then he turned.
facing us, he squared off. a snort escaped his face. dust traveled the air around him. head down he began to charge.
there was much screaming. i ran as hard as i could and it felt like someone kept moving our porch backwards. i glanced over for a moment and saw that teddy was herding our blond friend with nips back towards the porch. as she pushed him away and ran in. they were safe. the buffalo was still coming.
i stopped and walked a moment. i thought this would keep him back and he did slow down. perhaps i'd confused him although the look in his eyes was no confused look. he meant to kill me. i ran again, towards the porch, towards anything. a green two-door sat in our lot. i ran towards it. fumbled at the handle. the buffalo was closer. i dived in.
and i woke up.