by Mimi Thebo
And then he sees the bear, pushing her way through the branches.
He’s going to start shouting. He’s getting red splotches on his cheeks.
Jem says, “Keep quiet, Tony.”
Tony is shaking—with fear, maybe. Definitely with anger. “What in the hell?” he mutters. “What in the hell?”
Jem takes Tony’s arm and starts pulling him down the trail to the cabin.
Tony tries to shake him off.
Jem just drags him away. He is talking low and calmly into Tony’s ear.
I can’t see them anymore. But I can hear when Tony begins to shout at Jem. I can hear him say, “About a million regulations.”
All the noise is making the bear nervous. She goes back into the branches and hides.
I sit down on my rock. It’s cold sitting on rocks without overalls. There’s a lot of blue sky, but it’s going to rain tonight. Dad says almost all the snow will be gone tomorrow. He’s going to service our bikes when he gets home.
I tell this to the bear, like we’re having an ordinary conversation, like it’s a normal feeding day.
I wish she’d come out. I wish she’d come down.
I’m a little bored.
I start singing. “I’m a little teapot/Short and stout./Here is my handle/Here is my spout.”
She pokes her head out again. Sniffs for the boys. I tell her they’re gone.
I go to the base of the tree and pat it. I move my head like she does, when she wants me to come close.
She whines. She paws at the tree, as if she could push it away. She probably could, too, if both arms were working properly.
“Stop that,” I tell her. But she doesn’t get the fact that it’s a bridge. She thinks I’ve done something really stupid instead of something terribly clever. And then, I know: I’ll have to show her.
It’s not easy to get up on the splintered base of the tree and climb onto the trunk. I guess it’s not a trunk anymore; it’s a big log. Anyway, it’s a big old thing, and I have to scramble and kick a bit before I’m on it. I start walking up. It’s rock steady. Jem’s done an excellent job, just like he does at everything. I hope he’s not fighting with Tony. I hope he’s not getting arrested.
The bear looks at me, interested. I walk up a bit more. It would be good if I had on climbing shoes instead of Sorels. It would be good if I was roped in somewhere. It would be good if I’d had a bit of a brain working before I got us into this mess.
I can tell when she suddenly understands.
Her eyes widen, like they do for a cantaloupe. She looks at me and at the tree, and at the ground, and at me again, and she whines a little and gives herself a shake. And then she starts pushing through the leaves to get onto the log.
Which is great, which is just what we want. But it makes the log rock a bit, and I nearly fall.
So I sit down. It’s too big to ride like a horse, but my center of gravity is lower when I’m sitting than when I’m standing, and I can kind of surf the shocks.
She starts to come down forward, like an idiot.
“Turn around,” I tell her. I’m sure she doesn’t understand, but she does it anyway. She turns around and starts kind of shinnying down.
She’s grunting in pain, but she’s fast. She’s very fast. I push myself back until I can jump down. I get a bit away. I don’t know what she’ll do.
Will she cuddle me?
Will she eat me?
When she comes down, she stops for a moment, and licks at her shoulder. She looks up at the cave and all around her. She gets up on her back legs and sniffs the air.
And then she just walks away. Without a backward glance. I see her big shaggy bottom for a little while, and then the trees swallow her up.
My bear is gone.
I sit back down on the rock for a second.
Last night my heart was so full of feelings I thought it would burst. But this has left me feeling totally empty. Of course I didn’t mean to her what she meant to me. Of course she has a life to be getting on with.
I realize I’ve got stuff to do too.
I pick up our things, kick dirt over the fresh-looking scar of the tree, and head back to the cabin.
I search my feelings, but I don’t feel anything.
Maybe a bit of relief.
Maybe a bit of emptiness.
But really, nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
Jem has made a pot of tea. Tony looks at me and then looks away.
I want to walk right back out again.
I say, “She’s down. She’s gone.”
Tony talks in the coldest voice I’ve ever heard. He says, “You’ve just let a wounded, food-dependent bear loose in the park. Well done, Darcy.”
His voice has made my eyes sting. I say, “She can get her own food now.”
“Her own carrots and cantaloupes?” He bangs the table with his fist. He says, “She’s habituated, you idiot. She’ll hurt somebody.”
There is a long moment in my head, where suddenly, I see—really, really clearly—something I probably should have seen all along.
I just hadn’t thought—hadn’t thought of that at all. And I can tell Jem hasn’t either. It’s the kind of thing you don’t think about, I guess, unless you live there. Unless you think about stuff like that your whole life.
“I don’t think she will,” I say. “She’s not like that.”
Tony says, “Oh, that’s good. I’ll just bet my little sister’s life on that. Because Francesca is playing outside, right now, not even four miles away.” He stands up and starts pacing around the room. He looks at me. “Didn’t you listen in the bear orientation session? Didn’t you hear any of it?”
Jem says, “Calm down, Tony,” and pours me a cup of tea. He adds the milk, and pushes it to me with a couple of chocolate chip cookies. But I can’t eat or drink. I feel sick inside, and stupid and small and unworthy.
I stare down at the table.
Tony sits back down. He says, “Right. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Big drops of water are falling on the table. They’re from my eyes. My nose starts to run, and I sniff.
Tony says, “Don’t snivel. We don’t have time for it. Your parents will be back in a few minutes, and I need to get home.”
He sighs. He says, “Look. I’m going to radio in seeing a wounded bear. That should get the word out, so that people take precautions.” He runs his hand through his hair. He points at me and then at Jem. “If there is any news of that bear approaching humans, you are going down to the station and telling them everything.”
We nod. I say, “I’m sorry.”
But he ignores me.
When Tony stands up, Jem does too. I hear Jem say, “Thanks, man.” There’s a moment, and then Tony punches Jem on the arm.
I look up, just for a second, when Tony leaves, but he doesn’t even glance my way.
Then Jem is back. “Drink your tea,” he says. “You’re pale again.”
Without my tablets, I could have just slid into sleep.
Instead, I drink my tea and go up to walk around my room. I’m done with this park.
Tony hates me. I’ve put Jem in a bad position. And I’ve probably screwed up my bear. I think that’s it. I think that’s all I can wreck.
I get down my suitcase and start packing.
I don’t sleep that night, and I can’t read. I look out my window, as if in the five million acres of wilderness, my bear will choose to walk into the little square I can see. The rain is pouring down. I can actually see the snow fading into the earth.
Toward dawn, I get out my computer and look at all the bear pages again. How could I miss it? “Feeding a bear is not kind—it is a death sentence for the bear.” “Food-dependent bears must be destroyed.” “Once a bear is habituated to human contact, especially to human food, it becomes a nuisance bear.”
Maybe she’ll just forget. Maybe she’ll just get on with being a bear and forget all about the ledge and me.
&nbs
p; Dad sees my light and comes into my room. It’s stupid o’clock, the time he usually gets up.
I’m crying a little, and he comes to cuddle me.
He says, “You mustn’t get too down about this. You can come back for three weeks before school starts.”
I say, “I can never come back here—never, never, never.” And I cry really hard.
Dad pulls away and looks at me, like I really am a horrible teenage monster. I want to tell him that it’s not because I don’t love it here. I want to tell him everything. But I just can’t. I can’t.
He goes to work thinking I hate everything he loves.
Jem comes in and holds me tight. He says, “We were both dumb. It’s not just you.”
But it is.
—
We have a graveled driveway. Who knew? I’ve never seen it before.
I cycle down it, with my phone, charged, in my pocket and onto the access road. Mum says if I feel that good, I might as well go to school. But there’s no point, and we both know it.
Sue’s mum, Mickey, is a teacher. She’s already said she’ll catch me up on all I missed. And school is different here, anyway.
It feels really good to ride a bike. I’m miserable and feel sick to my stomach, but I can’t help but notice that I feel like I’m flying. Tony and Jem were whooping this morning when they left for school. Now I know why.
Sue and I have both been sleeping with our phones under our pillows. It’s late back home, on a school night. I can picture Sue in her bedroom, see her asleep with all her teddies stuffed around her (I am sworn to secrecy about Sue’s teddies).
The phone tower in Mammoth is by a big parking lot. I sit right on a bench about twenty feet away from the thing, and I still only get three bars of reception. But at least I know I can call her number. And at least I know she’ll answer.
“Darcy? What time is it?” She is always grumpy when she first wakes up.
Just hearing her voice makes me start to cry.
“What’s wrong?” She’s not grumpy anymore. “What’s wrong, Darcy?” I can picture her nightgowns. I can practically smell her, the special smell of a million sleepovers.
I say, “Raisin flapjack.” Which is our code word for “I’ve totally messed up.” It’s a long story.
I can hear Sue sit up. “How could you raisin flapjack? You haven’t been doing anything!”
Somebody is making a noise behind me. It’s a noise I’ve heard before, and I don’t pay any attention to it. I put my finger in my other ear and start to talk. I tell Sue everything. She asks me questions, usually to explain things, now and then, but she just listens.
I know it sounds weird, but I can hear her listening. I can hear her just listen, and I find it very comforting.
I finish by saying, “So she’s out there, somewhere, probably just about to attack somebody. And Tony won’t ever speak to me again. And my dad thinks I’m a total jerk, and I can’t explain anything to him.”
Sue is quiet for a moment. She says, “You really have raisin flapjacked. But how cool is that, Darce? Sleeping with a flipping bear?”
I sigh. I look at my ring. I say, “Yeah, I know.”
We’re quiet for a moment. Then Sue says something that really stuns me. She says, “I’m jealous.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t believe it.
She says, “I know you’ve been really ill and that you’ve messed up. But you’ve done so many exciting things. You’ve seen wolves and bears and climbed up cliffs and stuff.”
I say, “When I come back in August, if I’m not banned from the park for life, and if I’m not in jail, you’ll have to come with me.”
“And meet Tony?”
“Tony hates me now.”
Sue says, “You have to tell your dad. You have to tell him everything, and he’ll help you.”
I shudder. “He’ll kill me.”
Sue makes a little impatient sound. “Your dad loves you. I mean, really loves you. That’s another thing I’m jealous about.”
Sue’s dad is a hideous waster. He’s in the music business and thinks he’s really cool. He’s always canceling their time together. He once called me Sue, because it had been so long since he’d seen her, and when he’d turned up out of the blue at their house, I was downstairs.
Sue says, “Babes, I’ve got to get some sleep. But don’t worry. This is the kind of thing your dad knows about. All you have to do is get him to listen.”
I say, “Love you.”
She is sleepy. She says, “Love you more.”
I’ll bet she dreams about my bear.
I am so sad and so kind of wrecked. It’s all been too much, being so ill for so long, and the bear, and…
I’ve been so stupid.
I wish I could leave my body again. I wish I could fly away and know if my bear is safe.
I don’t really go, but I get this feeling…this kind of hungry, desperate feeling. I don’t think she’s okay. I don’t think she’s okay at all.
When I come back to myself properly, I’m sitting there, looking out at the kind of gritty, gray earth that’s around the hot springs. There are chipmunks everywhere, and they’re really cute.
The sound behind me has stopped, and just as I think I’ll turn around to see what it is, Tony comes and sits on my bench.
He says, “I don’t hate you.”
He has a skateboard under his arm, and his black hair is flopped in his face. He’s wearing slim-legged jeans and Vans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He looks wonderful.
I say, “How much did you hear?”
He says, “Hey, I was skating. I only heard the end because it was my own name. It’s not like I was listening.”
I shrug. I say, “You know everything, anyway.” I fiddle with my phone for a moment and then slide it into my pocket. “By the way, why aren’t you in school?”
He says, “I always cut classes one afternoon in spring, so I can skate this lot before the tourists arrive.”
I turn around and look at him, look at him properly. He smiles at me and then skates off. He’s good. He does some tricks, plays around on some ramps. He’s really good. I can tell; I’ve seen loads of skaters at home.
I sit with my arms around my knees, watching Tony Infante skate.
When he comes back over, I tell him about the half-pipe in the park at home. He says, “When I go to college, I’m going someplace like that. Most of the towns around here have a bunch of rules about skating. It’s hard to find a place where I can meet other skaters.”
We look at each other for a long time, until it gets awkward and we suddenly look away. And then Tony says, “How are you feeling? You want to go and get a Diet Coke? The store’s open.”
Tony tells me about what the rangers said about the bear. I tell him about her shoulder and how bad it smells. We’re quiet for a while.
And then we talk about other things.
We talk about August and how the summer people have a big Christmas party on the twenty-fifth. Tony and Jem are going to work in a kitchen, they think. They put in their applications that morning. They’ll be able to go to the employee pub and all the free movies and dances and things.
I say, “You’ll probably meet lots of girls.”
He says, “You’ll probably meet other skaters.”
We look sideways at each other and smile. And it feels good.
And suddenly, I wonder if we’d even be able to talk so…kind of clearly about this kind of stuff, if I hadn’t messed up so bad.
Tony says, “You were really stupid.”
I say, “I know.”
And then he says, “You were righteously brave, though, Darce.”
And something amazing happens. I smile, and Tony leans forward, and so do I and…
It doesn’t last long. But it’s really special.
We wait at the access road for Jem. It’s a long climb up from school. We all cycle home together. The boys don’t mean to, but they race far ahead of me. It’s time fo
r my tablet. I can feel it in my legs.
I think about my bear, ill and hungry, out in the woods somewhere.
The rangers said that she might get desperate for food. They’ve alerted everyone in the area. They think it’s a shame she’s so close to Mammoth and Cooke City. Tony says because she’s wounded, they’ll just kill her.
—
My dad is home when we get there. He’s writing up notes again and has papers spread everywhere. Mum has driven in to the library but will be back soon.
I take my tablet. Jem and Tony go up to Jem’s room.
I decide to make some chocolate cupcakes. It only takes about half an hour. I make frosting while they cool, and I put the kettle on. I make Dad tidy up his stuff. When Mum comes home, I call the boys down, and we all have a nice cup of tea with my cupcakes.
Dad says that Sally will be here soon. She’s coming for a meeting and staying for dinner. Just as he says it, she’s here. Early.
I get another cup.
Sally kind of bursts in. She starts talking before she even gets in the door. She’s seen a bear.
Everyone’s kind of tolerant about her enthusiasm. We pour her some tea. She says it was so close to the little hut that she saw it hunt a calf. Or try to. She says the bear’s shoulder was a “real mess.”
Suddenly, the boys and I are really listening.
Dad asks, “What do you mean, a real mess?”
Sally says, “She’s got herself a bad wound. It looks infected. I think it looks gangrenous.” She drinks some tea and takes a cupcake, adding, “She looked sick.”
Dad says, “Sounds like the one you saw, Tony, hanging around here.”
He gets the radio and calls the rangers. Sally reports what she saw, and you can hear the guy on the desk kind of sigh. He says, “She sounds like a situation ready to happen. Just in time for opening day for the hotels.”
He thanks Sally.
I go upstairs to use the toilet, but then I just lie down and sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
In my dreams, I float loose of my body and go into the forest to look for her. It is dark and quiet. Billions of stars pepper the sky with little points of light. The moon is fat and yellow above the trees. In my dream, my dream body can talk. It calls, “Hey. Hey, Bear.”