Backseat With The Billionaire

by Lilah May

  “Aww. I can’t hide in there with you.” My voice cracks . They want to hide me, like they would if they were running from a predator. They poke their heads out and yelp for me to come over. “It’s not big enough. Thank you though.” They yelp again and dive back into the hole. “Stay safe. Don’t come out of there.” Now, where do I go? I can’t climb a tree. Bears are incredibly good climbers and I don’t think I could even climb a tree even if I tried.

  Suddenly, I hear lapping. Is that water? It’s coming from the hole. The sound propels me forward and I scramble to the foxes. A foot below the ground, at the bottom of the hole lays a pool of muddy water. The foxes found me water! Without waiting, or caring about the muddiness or whatever bacteria could be in there, I bring handful after handful of cold dirty water, tasting of earthy soil and metallic minerals.

  Oh, god. I never thought water could taste this good.

  “Thank you. Thank you!” I give each of them a good rub on their heads. With a thank-you bark, they scamper away. I wish again that they would stay with me, but I convince myself that it’s better that they go.

  Rustle. Rustle. CRACK!

  Oh god. This time, I can hear the bear’s low growl echoing through the trees. I somehow manage to get to my feet and stagger away, even though every muscle in my body screams in agony. My clothes are torn from protruding branches and scratches cover me from head to toe. Leaning on trees for support, I stumble through the woods, trying to escape a ghost.

  I run and run and walk and run again, until I don’t know how long I’ve been going on, and the sky is slowly darkening. I can’t go on. I can’t do this anymore. Maybe the bear stopped. Maybe it’s given up, too. With that slight hope, I finally collapse from fatigue.

  At least I think it’s fatigue, until I feel a streak of lightning shoot up my leg. I look down and find my foot caught in a tree root, twisted at a grotesque angle. I gingerly extract the foot and pull up my pants leg.

  The ankle is already starting to swell and in the evening light, I can see it quickly turn purple. It throbs with every beat of my heart like a hammer was slamming down on it over and over again. I groan. I guess I’m shit out of luck. This is the end of the line.

  Rustle.

  It’s still here. It’s still following me. I don’t want to do this anymore.

  Fuck. No. I can’t give up yet. I have to keep going. Bobby will be looking for me. I have to hold out until Bobby finds me. I have to get to my feet, I have to keep going.

  I grab onto the tree and claw myself up, fingers digging into the bark, trying to find some purchase. I get my good foot underneath me and I pull on the tree, trying to stand. RIP. One of my hand slips and my fingers scrape against the bark. I could see the fingernail snap off, left hanging by a piece of skin. I yelp in pain as the tip of my finger starts to burn like acid was melting it off.

  Rustle. Rustle.

  I don’t have time to be wallowing in pain. I must get back up. I must survive. For Bobby. This time I hug the tree, the bark scratching against my cheek, rubbing it raw, as I slide myself inch by inch up the tree.

  Finally, I’m standing on my feet, or more accurately, my foot. And I start to hop, slowly, one hop at a time, leaning on trees as I go along. But I don’t get ten feet before I run out of trees to support myself with.

  I can see another cluster of trees just across the little clearing, not 15 feet away. I can do this. I take one hop and another, slowly, with a rhythm, I make it halfway across. I’m almost there. I can make it. I need to keep going.

  Hop. Hop. Something digs into the bottom of my foot. Shit, I landed on a rock, I feel myself slipping. I try to keep my balance, but I’m tipping. Oh fuck. My other foot shoots out reflexively and plants itself on the ground.

  I scream. The twisted ankle gives out from underneath me like someone chopped it down with the swing of an axe and it feels exactly the same as if the sharp metal dug deep, biting into the bone.

  My face hits the ground, the pain preventing me from cushioning my fall. I moan as each throb of my ankle sends a new splintering wave of pain through my leg.

  Rustle.

  I don’t have time to wallow in my agony. I pick my head up off the ground, craning my neck, trying to peer into the darkness. Which way did the sound come from? Suddenly, I see a flash of movement ahead of me. It’s the bear. Quickly it disappears back into the shadows.

  I have to move. I have to move now.

  I scramble to my hands and knees. If I can’t walk, I need to crawl. It’s coming for me. It’s circling, stalking, getting closer and closer. It’s coming.

  Rustle.

  Rustle. The sound comes from behind me. I try to shuffle faster back the way I came from. Rocks poking up from the ground jab into my palm. My pants immediately rip at the knees, and the sharp rocks scratch my exposed skin.

  I bear the pain, and carry on, enduring the burning from the open cuts on my knees. Dragging myself across the clearing, I can see the last tree I used for support. I can make it. I can keep going. I just need to reach that tree.

  Crash.

  Through the trees, I see the bear. This time it doesn’t move, simply staring at me. I see its cold black eyes, like glistening beads peering out from the woods. My arms are on fire and they finally buckle, and I tumble to the ground.

  I clutch at the grass pulling myself around again, dragging my entire body across the dirt, trying to go back the other way. The roots rip out of the ground and smack me in the face. I’m done.

  I’m done. I can’t go on. This is it. I can’t do this anymore. I bury my face in the grass, my nose touching the dirt underneath. I wish the ground would just swallow me up.

  How many hours have I been out here? It’s getting colder and darker. I have no food or water. My body had nothing else to give. It was drained of energy to the last drop. Every part of my body was on fire.

  I flip up onto my back and look at the dimming light. The sky is filled with stars. Away from the city, there are so many stars even when it wasn’t dark yet. At least it is beautiful here. Tears roll down the side of my face, tickling my ears before being soaked up by the ground. It felt a bit cold.

  I’m going to die. I’m going to die here in the woods. Alone.

  Bobby! Where is Bobby? He will be able to save me somehow. He’s always so confident. So composed.

  I’m an idiot. What can even he do when faced with a hungry bear?

  I imagine him determined to find me no matter what, picking his way through the foliage, working his way through the shadows, tracking the steps I took. I wonder for a second if he found the foxes and if they were alright. He’s coming for me, and the thought gives me some relief. Just like when I found out he was worried about me, that he cared for me, that he loves me. It floods me with warmth in these cold dark woods.

  Wait. If he was following me and the bear was following me. What if he — he could run into the bear. Oh no! What have I done? All because of my rash, petulant temper tantrum. He can’t. He can’t follow me. He needs to turn back. I start yelling to no one.

  “Oh please, Bobby. Don’t come for me. Turn back! Don’t die for my sake. I love you. I love you with all my heart. You’re so young. Please don’t come. Please don’t die. I should be the one to die.” My vision blurs from the tears welling up. “You’ve shown me true happiness. So late into my life, you showed me what love is. What it means to live for yourself. And how you can still live for your love. Turn back, my love! Turn back!” I shout to the silent indifferent forest.

  Rustle. Rustle. CRACK!

  I sit up as quickly as possible. Barreling towards me is the bear, crashing through the brush, snapping branches left and right. This is it. He’s grown tired of hunting me. Now he wants to eat. At least if I get eaten, maybe the bear won’t attack Bobby. I close my eyes and wait. I feel the ground vibrate through my hands.

  I love you Bobby. Be happy. Don’t live so lonely. Find someone to love. I wish I could’ve been with you.

  Fuck. I c
an’t do it. I can’t just die like this. I open my eyes. The bear is less than 30 feet away, gaining ground fast. I scrabble for the knife in my pocket, flip it open and hold it out, my hand trembling so much, the knife threatens to drop from my grasp.

  Aim for the eyes. Aim for the eyes. I want to close my eyes, look away. But I know I’d have no chance then. 15 feet, 10 feet. I stare it down, holding eye contact with death incarnate rushing straight at me.

  Don’t look away. Aim for the eyes.

  YELP! BARK! BARK! Two orange blurs dash out of the underbrush, yelping high pitched barks, like air horns. It’s Willy and Diana! They stop the bear in its tracks, running in rings around it. The bear swings a massive paw, sweeping the area around it, but they’re too fast and they scamper out of the way. The bear growls in frustration as it keeps swatting out at them, his sharp claws reaching dangerously close.

  I should use this opportunity to get away. They’re helping me escape, I have to take advantage. I start to push myself back with my hands, sliding backwards on my butt, keeping my eye on the ensuing battle. Willy stumbles, and the bear catches him, the overwhelming strength tossing him like a toy against a tree. Di uses the chance to dart in and snap at the outstretched paw. The bear lifts its arm, the fox dangling in the air, her mouth still holding tightly. Shaking his arm violently, he flings her away.

  Willy is too scared to move, and hurt. But he continues to howl like a wailing siren. I stop. I can’t just run. They tried to save me, I have to help them. Clenching the knife in my teeth, I crawl as fast as possible towards the bear. I can’t believe I’m going towards an angry bear. But I don’t care. I need to do something. I can’t sit around while others get hurt.

  The bear slowly lumbers towards the little one, who sits frozen, crying for his mother. I need to save him. I speed up, my hands getting torn up by rocks and sharp sticks, but I don’t notice the pain. Diana is snapping at the bear’s hind legs, but the bear ignores her, unfazed, drawing nearer. I’m not going to make it. I shouldn’t have run. I should’ve fought the bear with them. The absurdity of this statement, I can’t comprehend.

  Di sprints around the bear and tries to drag Willy away from the danger, but she can’t move fast enough with the extra weight. Realizing this, she turns and faces the oncoming bear, hissing, teeth bared. She’s ready to die for her kid, a tiny fox squaring up against a bear a thousand times her size. I need to help her. If I could just get one cut in, one slash across the snout, maybe I can scare the bear away. I scramble forward. I have to make it. I have to.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The voice comes out of nowhere. I feel like I haven’t heard anyone else in years. Did I just hallucinate?

  Suddenly, I’m off the ground and six feet in the air. What’s happening? I look down and realize I’m on sitting atop someone’s shoulders, their head between my legs. I reach out and grab their hair for support. My fingers sink deep into soft curls. It makes me think of all those years I spent with Bobby, petting his head, lovingly running my fingers through his hair. Am I dreaming? Did I die already? Is this the afterlife?

  Wait. This is Bobby’s hair. This is Bobby’s hair! Bobby is here! I almost faint from relief.

  “Hey, I’m gonna go bald if you keep yanking.” My fingers are wrapped in his curls so tightly. I don’t even realize I’m pulling so hard. I don’t want to let go. I’m never going to let go of him again.

  “Bobby! You’re here! This isn’t a dream!”

  “If this is a dream, then that pinching trick doesn’t work at all.” He rubs his head. A loud bark interrupts our reunion. It was Diana. The bear stands over the two foxes, readying his arm for the killing blow.

  “The foxes, Bobby! We have to help Willy and Diana!”

  “Are you sure? Most people would probably tell us to run.”

  “We can’t! They were trying to help me. They’re only in danger because they were protecting me.”

  “Well, I guess I have to thank them. OY, BEAR!”

  The bear stops and stares, assessing the new threat. That’s why he put me on his shoulders! To look bigger.

  “YOU BETTER NOT HURT THEM!” Bobby roars, his voice thundering, his huge chest expanding with air, projecting the sound straight at the bear. The bear responds, leaning back on his hind legs, standing straight up, towering over the cowering Willy and the snarling Diana. At least nine feet tall, his head looks as if reaches higher than I am right now, sitting on Bobby’s six foot shoulders. The bear roars back, a throaty guttural noise, like a wave crashing against the rocks. But Bobby doesn’t back down.

  He bellows, his deep voice booming through the forest, rumbling through the trees, the incredible vibrations resonating through my core. “BACK THE FUCK OFF, BEAR! SHE’S MINE. I’VE LOVED HER FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER! SHE’S INTELLIGENT, BEAUTIFUL, WITTY AND SHE’S A MOTHERFUCKIN’ BADASS TO BOOT. THE WHOLE GOD DAMN PACKAGE. ONE IN A MILLION!” The bear roars again, as if agreeing. “BUT WHAT MADE ME TRULY FALL IN LOVE WAS HER COMPASSION. SHE TRULY COULD DO NO HARM. SHE WOULD HELP THE DEVIL IF HE WAS IN NEED. I TOLD MYSELF I WAS HELPING HER. BUT I WAS LYING. I WANTED HER FOR MYSELF. I DID IT FOR ME. I COULDN’T BEAR TO WATCH HER SUFFER FOR ANY LONGER. I WAS WEAK. IF SHE WILL FORGIVE ME, IF SHE WILL TAKE A WEAK MAN LIKE ME. I WILL MARRY HER. I’LL GIVE HER EVERYTHING SHE DESERVES. I’LL LOVE HER TILL THE DAY I DIE. EVEN IF THAT DAY IS TODAY, I WOULD DIE HAPPY KNOWING SHE LOVES ME.”

  “Yes! Yes! I do. I love you and I want to marry you!” I forget all about the bear, my tortured and aching body, everything. My only thought is of Bobby and how happy he makes me, I feel like the sun is shining down on me even in the dark, cold night. I feel like light could burst out of me and I could turn into star. I feel like my heavy, throbbing body could just float into the air like a feather. Oh how much I love him, how much I care for him, how much I want to be with him forever.

  “SHE SAID YES! SO BACK THE FUCK OFF MY WIFE, BEAR!” The bear gives one final roar and falls to all fours. It stares at us and I don’t know if it’s going to charge or run.

  It charges. This is it. No matter how strong and vicious Bobby is, there’s no way he can take on a bear. The only chance he had was to look big as possible and scream as loud as possible.

  Bobby throws me unceremoniously off his shoulders. Is he going to sacrifice himself? The bear is bounding towards us, impossibly fast, growing bigger and bigger as it bears down on us. I realize I’m screaming but Bobby calmly ruffles around in his bag.

  “What’re you doing? Run! I’ll distract it!” I can’t believe I’m saying those words but with my ankle, I would only slow him down. But he ignores me just like he ignores the looming figure of the bear.

  Out of his bag, he pulls out a rock the size of a football. I can’t believe my eyes as I start to comprehend his plan. He stands, waits patiently, not a tremor in his hands before throwing the rock, complete with spin, directly at the bear.

  SMACK. The 20 pound rock smashes straight into the bear’s nose, stunning it, stopping it straight in its tracks. How did he do that? How did he stay so composed in the face of danger? Was it all those board meetings facing hungry sharks or all those times in the ring fighting vicious warriors?

  But he isn’t angry like he is in the ring and he isn’t cool like I imagine him in the boardroom. He’s simply serenely confident. For a second, the bear considers revenge, but then it turns and plods back into the darkness.

  “Maybe I should’ve been an NFL quarterback?” Bobby grins without one flicker of panic as if he had planned it all from the beginning. My fearless man. Stupid, but brave. I could live with that.

  The mother and son fox seem to be unhurt and race towards us, running circles around us, short happy barks erupting from their mouths. And as fast they came, they leave, speeding away. Just before they disappear into the shadows, the mother looks back one last time, and I like to think she winks before chasing after her son.

  “Hey, now you’re gonna drown me if you don’t stop crying.” I didn’t ev
en realize the flood of tears raining down on him. All of it, all the tension, all the terror, all the panic, releases at once, and I can’t stop crying, whimpering and wailing.

  Steady hands grab me by the waist and lift me off of his shoulders, before swinging me around. His strong arms wrap around my waist, leaving my feet dangling off the ground. Just like that first moment in the grocery store, except this time, I’m staring into sweet brown eyes that make me melt every time I look into them.

  “Bobby. Bobby. Bobby. Oh, Bobby!” I can’t stop saying his name. It’s all I can say. “Bobby. My Bobby. I love you Bobby.” Slowly other words start to come out. “Bobby. I thought — I thought I was going to die and then — and then,” It all starts to spill out at once. “I didn’t want you to come here because I didn’t want you to get hurt and then I was ready to give up but then I —” Suddenly, his lips are on mine, shutting me up. And I start crying all over again.

  “Shhhh. I’m here now and you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again. Don’t ever leave me. Please.”

  “I don’t plan on leaving you alone. Ever again.” He grabs me under my knees and my shoulders, carrying me like a certain sailor in a certain movie, carrying me off into the sweet ending. Except I’m already at my sweet ending, cradled against his chest, I grip his shirt tight and never want to let go. I didn’t want to lose him again. I want to be by his side, in his arms, forever. It feels so safe, so warm, so loving. It is perfect. It feels like I had been away all my life and I was finally returning home, and snuggled in the comfort of my own bed. This is where I always belonged — I finally found my place. In Bobby’s arms.

  I don’t know where he’s bringing me, but I trust him completely for the first time, without a shadow of doubt tainting my mind.

  “My father loved Dean Martin. He left all these old records behind and I ended up listening to them every day.” I say for some reason. Maybe it’s the way he’s holding me or the return of that signature easygoing casualness that I first fell in love with.