The Comeback - Deleted Scenes

Every book has scenes that get deleted for various reasons. This was one of my favourites from The Comeback and I left it in until the last possible edit before taking it out. I call it the Raccoon Scene.

I’m in my room grabbing a book when an unholy screech comes from the living room followed by three increasingly loud thumps and what sounds like some creative Korean profanity. My door slams open to reveal a wide-eyed Jihoon, hand at his throat like a Victorian maiden about to have the vapors.

“What happened?” He’s the color of subway tile.

He only shakes his head and points to the interior of the apartment. “A wild animal.” He slides in and shuts the door behind him, closing his eyes.

“A what?” We’re in Toronto, a city not known for its fierce predators. “What kind?”

“I didn’t see. Brown. Big.”

I don’t comment on his sub-par observational skills, but tug him out of the way. “Let me see.”

“It’s not safe.” He holds me back. “You could get hurt.”

“We’re on the sixth floor,” I point out. “It’s probably nothing.” Even as I say it, a crash comes from the living room. Jihoon looks smugly terrified when I startle back.

That does sound like a large animal. But if it is, I absolutely don’t want it wreaking havoc in my apartment.

I edge Jihoon aside and open the door. He sticks close to me, but whether that’s for his protection or mine I can’t tell. At first, all I see is a lamp that’s been knocked on the floor and the open balcony door. I scan the area and…yes. There it is, in all of its bushy-tailed, bandit-faced, wobble-butted glory, coming around the couch like it owns the place.

The raccoon stops when it sees me and we eye each other like two desperados in a stand-off. Jihoon gives a muted coo. “Yah, so cute!”

I spare him an incredulous look. “You were scared shitless of it thirty seconds ago.”

“That was before I recognized its little face. We have a raccoon café in Seoul and you can pet them.”

I blanch. “Please don’t do that now.”

There aren’t a lot of options. Keeping it as a pet is unfeasible. Shooing it out into the hall to the elevator and hoping for the best seems like it would cause more problems. Back out to the balcony, then.

“Stay here,” I tell Jihoon.

He gives a fervent nod. “No problem.”

Not wanting to scare it, I inch around the edge of the room as the trash panda watches me with its beady eyes, and grab the broom from the kitchen. Jihoon, bless him, has taken out his phone and is now filming the entire thing. At least he closed the bedroom doors so the raccoon can’t get in if it bolts.

I tiptoe around the back of the raccoon, who is looking between me and Jihoon, then poke it gently with the broom. “Scram,” I say.

It sits down.

“Fighting, Ari!” Jihoon cheers me on from the doorway.

I push at it harder. “Skedaddle. Go on. Out. Beat it.”

The raccoon hisses and we both freeze. “Don’t make it angry,” Jihoon whispers.

I stare at the raccoon in askance. How do you avoid making a raccoon angry when you’re tapping it on the butt? No one likes that. I also don’t want a raccoon with its raccoon germs in my house so I grit my teeth and stretch out the broom again. Rocky Raccoon skitters away.

“Food,” says Jihoon suddenly.

“What?”

He skirts the room and goes into the kitchen, where he opens the fridge. A second later, a hunk of hot dog slides across the floor.

Rocky looks at it with interest. I’m almost on my toes with anticipation.

Then the raccoon walks away. I drop down to my heels and readjust my hold on the broom.

Jihoon rummages around in the cupboard. “I have it,” he calls.

He creeps over to deposit a few pellets of some nasty sugary cereal on the ground.

“Not even a raccoon will go for…” I trail off because the raccoon proves me wrong by waddling over to the cereal to pick it up with adorable little paw-hands.

Jihoon spills a trail out to the balcony, and the raccoon does a leisurely food crawl until it reaches the balcony. We hold our breath as it hesitates but then I decide enough is enough. One shove with the broom and I lunge forward to slam the door behind it.

We watch through the window as the raccoon looks around before it jumps up on the rail and climbs over to my unsuspecting neighbor’s balcony. Jihoon holds his hand out for a high five that I give enthusiastically.

“Teamwork,” he says.

I’m already hunting for the sanitizing wipes.