Well, this is lovely, Mike thought as the tree swayed beneath him. A sharp vibration ran through the trunk at his back, moss, pine needles and other debris raining down on him from above. Several of the needles landed on his neck, and he reached back with one hand to wipe them away before any could work their way down the back of his shirt or to the inside of his coat.
Then again, it could be worse, he thought as the tree shook beneath him once again, a faint scraping sensation resonating through the wood. He lifted his hood as the shaking loosened more of the detritus from above, waiting as the shaking subsided. We made it to the tree. Now all they had to do was wait it out.
A few feet below him, clutching another branch with pale, shaking hands as the tree shook once more, was his client: A pasty, slightly soft, overweight Californian named David—a few years or so younger than Mike was, judging by his looks—who’d wanted a three day fishing and camping trip. At the moment Dave looked too scared to speak, his eyes locked on the brown bear still beating his paws against the base of their tree. Which at least meant the man wasn’t panicking.
Small blessings, I guess, Mike thought as he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. If the bear decided to wander off after a few minutes they wouldn’t need to be in the tree for long, but if the bear decided to have fun with their camp … Well, they’d be there for a while. And both the radio and the gun were down next to his tent, completely out of reach—not that he really wanted to shoot the bear; just try and scare it off, though if it hadn’t left them alone already …
Still, the radio was what he really wanted. At least then he could call somebody. Or at least have somebody else to talk to other than his client.
Still, what was done was done. He couldn’t go back and choose to grab the radio instead of Dave. Besides, he was pretty sure he’d have made the same choice.
“Aah! It’s looking at me! This isn’t right!”
Then again, maybe not. He glanced down at Dave, trying to hold back a sigh as he watched the man panic. Time to speak up before his client did something to rile the bear up and make an enemy out of him.
“Of course he’s looking at you,” he said. The bear was indeed looking up at them, standing on its hind legs with what looked like a curious expression on its face. Maybe he’s wondering how we’d taste. That or he just smells the fish on us. “Calm down.”
“But what if he wants to eat us?” Dave asked, giving him a quick glance before looking back down at the bear.
“That happens a lot less often than you think,” Mike said, shaking his head. “He might maul you, but he’s probably not going to eat you.”
“That’s … not very reassuring,” Dave said. A low moan of terror followed a moment later as the bear rose up on its hind legs once more, planting its front paws on the tree. “Why won’t he just go away? Bears aren’t supposed to bother people!”
“I think you’ve got that backwards,” Mike said, rolling his eyes as he shifted on his branch once more. “People aren’t supposed to bother bears. It’s the other way around. Bears won’t usually bother people, but if they decide they want to, there’s not much you can do to stop it.”
“What about bear mace?”
“Please,” Mike said, trying not to snicker. “I saw that little can you were carrying. It’s pepper flavoring.” Down below, the bear in question dropped onto all fours once more and wandered back over toward the brightly colored tents.
“Well … what about you? Don’t you have anything?”
“I did, and I would have grabbed it if I hadn’t have had to grab your sorry behind,” he said, glaring down at the other man. “Or the gun. Or maybe the radio. Didn’t you listen to a word I told you when we had this conversation about bears last night?”
Dave had an indignant look on his face, his forehead creased with lines. “Well … yeah.”
“Then why didn’t you do what I told you?”
“Because it’s a bear!” Dave shouted, the noise drawing a look upwards from the bruin down in their campsite. “I panicked. I didn’t actually expect to see a bear while I was up here, you know!”
Mike lifted one eyebrow. “You came all the way to Southeast Alaska to go camping and fishing for three days, and you didn’t expect to see a single bear?”
“Not up close,” Dave said, shaking his head. “I thought it was a wilderness thing!”
“You might have missed the memo, Dave,” Mike said, shaking his head. “But we are in the wilderness here. This whole place is wilderness.” He spread his arms, gesturing to the thick trunks of spruce and pine around them. “This is wilderness.”
“But there are people here.”
Mike let out a groan. “So what? Far as that bear is concerned, this is his territory and we’re the intruders.”
That seemed to shut his client up. He leaned back against the trunk, scowling as he watched the bear wander to their fishing equipment and start sniffing at it. I really hope that moron didn’t leave food inside his tent. I told him not to.
With a snort the bear moved away from their fishing gear, instead deciding to head towards Dave’s backpack. There was a tearing sound as its claws dug into the material.
Shame, he thought as he watched the bear tear into the side pockets, trail mix and M&Ms falling out onto the ground in a shower of multicolored rain. That was a nice pack, too. Brand new, in fact, like most of his client’s gear. Purchased just for the trip.
Too bad he couldn’t have purchased a guide book and bothered to learn a little bit about the place before he came, Mike thought as the bear stuck his snout to the ground, licking up the scattered trail mix. Guy didn’t even bother to bring a can of insect repellant.
Come to think of it, a lot of his gear looks pretty new. He shifted his weight again, bark flaking away under his hands. Down below the bear was still enjoying itself with Dave’s backpack. It probably wouldn’t be long before it moved on to Mike’s. Boots, tent, sleeping bag … I don’t think he’s got a single used bit of gear.
Huh. It was tempting to start speculating on reasons why. Certainly by looking at him, his client hadn’t ever been the camping type, though he’d known a few of the basics, like how to use a rod and reel. He hadn’t known what to do once he a got a fish on the hook, however, and though he’d claimed knowledge of gutting the thing, he was either years out of practice or only understood the concept of what he was doing from a television.
Actually, now that I think about it—and there wasn’t much else to do at the moment—he isn’t exactly the kind of guy I’d have pegged as someone interested in a three-day wilderness retreat. In fact, most of Dave’s excitement hadn’t been about what the real enthusiasts were after. It had been over the basic stuff. The scenery, the view …
Bah, none of my business, he thought as he turned to look back down at the brown bear, now tearing into another pocket. He’s a paying customer who’s here to have a good time. Not that he seems to be having one at the moment. Though to be fair, I’m not either.
There was a long, shuffling grunt from down below them as their visitor found something else to be delighted by. It looked like a can of soda. Shasta brand. Orange. There was a muffled pop as one of the bear’s claws punched through the thin metal.
Smart bear, Mike thought as he watched the animal lap up the carbonated beverage. Why do I get the feeling this isn’t the first time he’s found a pop can? For that matter is it a he? Maybe he’s a she. Then again, he hadn’t seen any cubs, and it was the season for that.
Probably for the better on that one, he thought as the bear tore the rest of the pop can apart, sticking the tip of its snout inside the remains to get at the last bits of sugary sweetness. I don’t want to think about what would have happened to Dave if there’d been cubs involved in this.
He glanced back down at his client, who was sitting on his branch with a morose expression on his face. What’s he doing here anyway? Over the phone he hadn’t been able to tell that the man was so green to the o
utdoors experience. He’d just been a client—one paying a lot of money in advance—who wanted to go fishing and spend three days out in the woods later that week. It wasn’t completely unusual, there were a lot of outdoors enthusiasts who worked their play time in and around a work schedule, hopping up to Alaska for a few days here and there for a brief break from whatever soul-sucking corporate job they’d been saddled with. They came fast, played hard, and generally left happy with a fish or two in tow.
But those were experienced, gung-ho vacationers. The kind who knew exactly what they were getting into and had the experience of several trips under their belt to make sure their stay was a productive one. His current client wasn’t like that.
He’d started out that way. Called to see if Mike was free for an arrival the next day, to do a three-day trip—one heading out, one of nothing but fishing and enjoying the scenery, and one day to tidy things up, break down the camp, and get back to town before he had to catch a plane back to civilization.
But when they’d first met, Dave had looked a little green. It hadn’t bothered Mike too much; after all, everyone had to start somewhere. But during the trip to their campsite and the subsequent setting up, Dave had gradually shown himself to be more and more inexperienced—or quite out of practice.
That, and he didn’t exactly seem super enthusiastic about getting to the fishing, Mike thought. He was bothered that we didn’t get too much done last night, but at the same time, he wasn’t in the same mood everyone else usually is. At the time, he’d just assumed the man was the quiet, reserved type. He could understand that. But now?
It was odd, thinking this much about a client. Usually they knew what they wanted to do, and then he took them out to do it. Dave on the other hand … well, only Dave knew. Though at the moment, judging from the terrified sounds he’d made while climbing up the tree, he probably didn’t know much of anything but—
“I’m sorry, Mike.”
Dave’s voice shook him from his reverie, and he glanced down to see his client staring up at him. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” Dave said, shaking his head and grabbing a nearby branch as his weight shifted. “You’re right. I should have been expecting this, coming to Alaska and all—”
“No,” Mike said, shaking his head. He owed the man an apology. “I’m sorry. I was a bit of an ass about it. And I shouldn’t have been.”
“Well, I should have listened,” Dave said, giving him a sort of sad smile. Mike frowned. A slight disagreement hadn’t earned that kind of look, had it? If it had, there was no chance of him getting a tip at the end of the trip.
“If I’d listened,” Dave continued, “then you probably could have grabbed your gun or your bear spray or something, instead of getting my butt out of the way.”
“It happens,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I should have had it on me to start with. I knew this was bear country, but I didn’t think we’d get one wandering into our camp like this. Not while we were here, at least.”
“This isn’t normal?”
The innocent look on his client’s face brought a laugh to his lips. Below them, the glacier of muscle digging through their camp looked up at them for a moment and then went back to work seeing how many pieces it could break their cooler into.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This isn’t normal. Rare, yes. Bears intrude on people all the time, though. I should have been paying better attention.”
“Well, I should have known what I was getting into,” Dave said. “So don’t feel too bad. I should have signed up for one of those boats … the, uh … What do you call them?”
“Charter boats?” Mike suggested.
“Yeah. One of those,” Dave said.
“Well, if you had, you wouldn’t be stuck up in a tree right now,” he said, shifting his weight so that he could get a better look at Dave. The branch swayed beneath him like a boat on a wave, a breeze rippling through the trees and adding to the motion. “Then again, you could be beached or sinking.”
“Does that happen?” Dave asked.
He shrugged. “Probably about as often as somebody gets mauled by a bear.”
‘So you’re saying either way I’d probably be out of luck.”
“Depends on what you count as luck,” Mike said. “I can think of a couple other clients I’ve had who would have been thrilled to get this close to a bear.”
“Really?”
He nodded, watching as the bear rolled onto its side, scratching at its belly with one massive paw as it chewed through a hot dog. We had hot dogs? “Yeah. Some of the people I bring out here really like getting close up to nature.”
“Huh.”
“You though … you’re pretty quiet.” He shifted, trying to look his client in the eyes. “You’re pretty quiet and don’t seem to be too interested in the up-close-and-personal part of it. What made you want to come up here and do the full experience for your first trip?”
Dave let out a small sigh. “Is it that obvious?”
“Just a little bit, yeah,” he replied. “From your call and your eagerness, I’d had you pegged as one of my usual clients. Then it was as someone who wanted to get into the tough stuff. But you’re not really either—not quite—so I’m not sure anymore. Figured I’d ask. After all, we’re not going anywhere.” From down below the bear gave them a dull growl, as if to reinforce his observation.
“A friend suggested it to me. He said he’d done it once or twice before—or maybe it was he’d heard about someone else doing it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Dave said, rocking back and forth on his branch. He was sweating despite the cool shade they were in, though maybe that was just from the humidity. “Point is, I was having some trouble at home and decided I needed to escape for a bit, get my mind off things. I camped a lot as a scout when I was a kid—you, know,” he said, looking up at him. “Nine? Ten? Cub scouts?” His gaze drifted downward, locking on the bear. “This sounded like the kind of thing I’d always wanted to do, so I told my friend it was a good idea, called you, and then called my job. All while sitting in my car in front of the bar.”
“You didn’t sound drunk when you called.”
“Me?” He looked up in surprise, his eyes wide. “No, I don’t drink. I get soda at the bar. My friends can drink, but I made my mistakes in college. I can’t afford to drink. Not with my job.”
“What do you do?”
“Investments and bonds. Not the kind of thing you want to do drunk, though I know people that do.”
“So you just dropped everything and went?”
“Yup,” Dave said, swinging his legs back and forth below him. “Took my first vacation in nineteen years. I wanted to get out. Clear my head. Get some time to think. Fresh air.”
“Lots of time for doing all that when you’re stuck up in a tree with a bear below you.”
Dave laughed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. What about you?”
“Me?” He lifted one eyebrow. “What about me?”
“What made you want to do this job? How’d you end up with it?”
Fair enough. “I like being outside,” he said. “And I like camping and fishing—though that latter one I just like for fun. None of that commercial stuff. I’ve done it, it’s rough.”
“So how’d you end up doing this?”
He shrugged, glancing at their guest. The bear was lying out the ground outside one of their tents, stretched out on its back and relaxing in the sun. Probably lazing after eating all our food, he thought as he looked at the blue-and-white flecks of plastic and Styrofoam snow that had been the cooler. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Go’on! Git!”
The bear rolled its head up and fixed him with a lazy gaze that reminded him of a stuffed sports fan after an afternoon of Super bowl Sunday feasting. Then its head tipped back, the bear letting out a snort as it went back to relaxing in the sun.
Well, so much for that. He turned back to Dave, who was watching the bear with rapt attention.
“Cou
ld we go down and try that?” Dave suggested. “Shout at it and tell it to get lost?”
“We could, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, shaking his head and feeling pine needles grate against the skin of his back. Apparently he hadn’t gotten his hood up early enough when they’d climbed the tree. “If he’s not scared of us, the best thing we can do is hope he gets bored and wanders off. Then we can grab our gear and head back to the boat.”
“We’re heading back?” Dave’s voice almost sounded disappointed.
“Nah, just closer to town,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not staying around here if this bear is this comfortable with being in our camp. Others might be, but I’m not. Plus, we might want to get some more food. He just ate all of it.”
“Oh,” Dave said, nodding. “That makes sense.”
“You don’t want to go back, huh?”
“No,” Dave said, his voice quiet. Then he spoke again, louder. “No. After all, I already paid you, and I’ve only got two more days before I have to be back at work. I want to make the most of it.”
Mike nodded. It was a sound enough proposition.
“So, anyway, how did you end up doing this?”
The question caught him off-guard. “You really want to know?” he asked.
“Sure,” Dave said, shrugging. “After all, we’re caught in a tree. Not much else to do but talk, maybe get to know one another a little better. How’d you get into this business?”
He shrugged. “Did some research, checked my licenses, started putting my name out there. I wanted to get paid to do something that I already liked to do, so I just started looking around. I usually have about one client a week through most of the summer, and that’s generally enough to get me through the winter without much trouble.”
“You don’t work in the winter?” Dave asked.
“No, I do,” he said. “I just do less of it. People who want to go snowshoeing or rent a cabin up in the mountains during the winter usually know what they’re doing. I get the odd job though, which is nice.”
Unusual Events: A Short Story Collection Page 23