The raccoon got up on the roof and wouldn’t come down. I threw rocks
at it and it danced between them. Finally I decided to get my shotgun.
I got a ladder from the garage and climbed up on it. Then I took aim and
fired. It danced like crazy, but I missed and tore a hole in the roof.
Denny, the little boy from next door, came running out of his house yelling,
“Don’t shoot, that’s my pet raccoon!” I turned on the ladder and stared at
him in disbelief. “All right, you can have him if you can catch him,” I
said. He stood at the foot of the ladder and said, “Come here, Billy.” And
to my amazement, the raccoon came down and nestled in his arms and they walked
away toward Denny’s home. I put the ladder away and walked into my house
with my shotgun. I went into my study and started to work for a while.
I finished a report for work in about three hours, then decided to take
a nap. I went into the living room and lay down on the couch. I slept for
about an hour and when I woke up the raccoon was in my lap. I started to scream
but then thought better of it and just started to pet its head, which it seemed
to like. So we lay there like that for another half hour until there was a
knock on the door. I picked the raccoon up and walked to the door. It was
Denny, the boy from next door. “Can I have my raccoon back?” he said. “I
don’t know how he got in here, really I don’t. But, sure, here’s your
raccoon,” I said. “By the way, what’s his name?” “Elvis,” he said, grabbing
Aisha Sabatini Sloan
Episode 22: “Form and Formlessness”
In an essay specially commissioned for the podcast, Aisha Sabatini Sloan describes rambling around Paris with her father, Lester Sloan, a longtime staff photographer for Newsweek, and a glamorous woman who befriends them. In an excerpt from The Art of Fiction no. 246, Rachel Cusk and Sheila Heti discuss how writing her first novel helped Cusk discover her “shape or identity or essence.” Next, Allan Gurganus’s reading of his story “It Had Wings,” about an arthritic woman who finds a fallen angel in her backyard, is interspersed with a version of the story rendered as a one-woman opera by the composer Bruce Saylor. The episode closes with “Dear Someone,” a poem by Deborah Landau.
Rachel Cusk photo courtesy the author.
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