She dropped the clipboard. Kevin, in a moment of pure survival instinct, backed out of the gate and slammed it shut.
"Kevin, open the gate!" Higgins screamed.
She was trapped inside with them. I almost choked on my coffee.
I hadn't anticipated the intern locking her in. It was better than I could have dreamed.
Higgins was now running, actually running, in a tight circle, pursued by six angry geese. She scrambled toward the only high ground available, my patio table on the lower deck.
She hiked up her khaki pants and clambored onto the table, knocking over a citronella candle. The geese surrounded the table.
They paced around it, honking rhythmically. It was a siege.
"Help! Help!
I'm being attacked by chickens!" she screamed at my back door. I unlocked the sliding glass door and stepped out, holding my mug.
I stayed behind the screen door, though. "Safety first."
"Morning, Patricia," I called out cheerfully. "They're geese, actually.
Chinese geese. Lovely breed.
Call them off. Call them off this instant," she shrieked, her hair coming undone.
Lucifer nipped at the heel of her sensible shoe dangling off the table. She pulled her legs up, hugging her knees.
"I can't really control them," I said, taking a sip. "They're free-range, very independent.
Did you not see the sign?" "I am going to sue you for everything you own," she yelled, her face beet red.
"I am the president of the association." "And they are the presidents of the backyard," I said.
"Look, if you stay very still, they might lose interest in about 20 minutes. Or you can make a run for the gate.
Kevin seems to have abandoned you." I pointed to the gate.
Kevin was gone. He was probably halfway to his car.
"I am calling the police," she screamed, fumbling for her phone in her pocket. "Go ahead," I said.
"I'll wait." It took 12 minutes for the police to arrive.
I know this because I timed it. During those 12 minutes, Mrs. Higgins remained perched on my patio table, clutching her knees while the geese settled into a comfortable loafing formation around the base.
They weren't attacking anymore. They were just waiting.
It was psychological warfare. Every time she tried to shift her weight or lower a foot, Fluffy would stretch his neck out and let out a low, guttural hiss that sounded like a tire deflating, and she would scramble back to the center of the table.
I stayed inside, finishing my coffee, watching the scene unfold like a slow motion nature documentary, where the predator is a water fowl and the prey is a middle-aged woman in khakis. When the squad car pulled up, I saw the flashing lights reflect off my living room window.
I sighed, put my mug in the dishwasher, and walked out the front door to meet them. I wanted to control the narrative before they saw the hostage situation in the backyard.
Two officers stepped out. One was a burly guy who looked like he'd been on the force for 20 years.
Officer Miller, according to his badge. The other was younger, looking a bit confused by the dispatch call.
"Sir," Officer Miller said, hitching his belt. "We got a call about, well, the dispatcher said, a woman being eaten by dinosaurs.
We assumed that was a typo." "Ah, yes," I said, putting on my best concerned neighbor face.
"That would be Mrs. Higgins. She's in the backyard.
She's indisposed." "Is she injured?" the younger officer asked, hand resting instinctively near his holster.
Only her pride, I said. And maybe her vocal cords.
She's been screaming for a while. Come on back, but please watch your step and read the signs.
I led them down the side path. I stopped at the gate.
I pointed to the red sign. Danger.
Aggressive geese. Enter at your own risk.
Miller read it out loud. Aggressive geese.
He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. Security system, I explained.
City Ordinance 44B. They're fully legal.
We walked to the gate. I could hear Higgins yelling, "Officer, help.
Shoot them. Shoot them all."
Miller peered through the slats of the fence. He saw Higgins on the table.
He saw the six geese sitting calmly in the grass. He looked back at me.
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing. "Ma'am," Miller called out.
"They are monsters," Higgins shrieked. "I am trapped.
That man set a trap for me. Arrest him."
"Sir," Miller said to me. Can you call off your birds?
I can try, I said. But they don't speak English.
They speak violence. I opened the gate.
The geese stood up instantly, necks craning. "Hey, Lucifer, back off!"
I yelled, clapping my hands. Lucifer looked at me, then at the cops.