by Leanne Baugh
“She asked my opinion,” Gramz says and goes back to chopping vegetables for a salad. Ruby waits close by for some food to drop.
“Gramz, even you must think it’s time for Dad to date again. It’s not as if Mom will ever be erased from our lives or anything,” I say.
My grandma smiles at Dad. “I’ve been telling your father for a few years now that it’s time for him to move on with his life. Ellen would want you to be happy, Derek. You deserve it.”
Dad nods, smiles back. He goes to the stove and turns down a pot of boiling water.
“We’ve got to do something different for your profile, Dad,” Jeannie says. “All these on Match.com and OkCupid are so boring. I did some research on how to make your profile stand out. Instead of all the blah blah blah, how about using the alphabet with each letter describing something about you?” Jeannie says.
“I like it,” I say.
“I’m at your matchmaking mercy on this one,” Dad says, poking at the boiling potatoes.
“Okay, A is for…,” Jeannie says.
“Artistic. You’re pretty artsy, Dad,” I say. Jeannie types it into the computer.
“B…bibliophile. You’re a reader, right?” Jeannie says and types.
“C is for carpenter,” Gramz says. “Women love men who know their way around a toolbox.”
“D…dashing,” I say.
“Now you’re making me blush,” Dad says.
“E is for…environmentally conscious,” Jeannie says.
“Dinner’s almost ready.” Dad takes the pot off the stove. “You girls can plan my love life later.” He drains the potatoes, adds some butter and milk and starts mashing.
After a big turkey dinner, Dad and Gramz go for a walk along the Bow River while Jeannie and I clean up the dishes. Even knowing that bears are likely just coming out of hibernation and are probably nowhere near town, I can’t bring myself to go outside except to run to and from the truck. Being here, right in the mountains, is scaring the crap out of me.
“I know why you don’t want to tell Dad. He’d totally freak out, pound down the school door. But you should at least tell Schultzy or Hardy,” Jeannie says as she dries the salad bowl.
“They haven’t even figured out who wrote Bear Bait on my locker, so I doubt they’d be able to find out who’s messaging me.” I squirt some dish soap into a pot and fill it with hot water.
“Could it be Mason? He wouldn’t still be after you, would he?” Jeannie asks.
I shrug.
“I’ll never forget when he tried to get into your phone to see who you were texting and went ballistic when he found out you put a passcode on it.” Jeannie picks up another bowl to dry. “He sent you all those repulsive texts. And don’t get me started about the stalking.”
If I told her the extent of Mason’s bullying, she would definitely tell Dad. I don’t want to risk escalating things even more. After Mason and I broke up, Jeannie caught him in his truck parked at the end of our driveway, looking through binoculars at our house. Told him she’d call the cops if she ever saw him near our house again. She never saw him there again, but I did.
“The cops could somehow track down whoever is doing it,” Jeannie says.
“I’m definitely not getting the cops involved. I just want to get through the next few months and leave high school behind.”
***
I wake up in the middle of the night, my body shaking from a nightmare. Jeannie sleeps soundly beside me. In my dream, I was in my grandma’s backyard. The bear was circling me. Growling, baring her teeth. I ran into the woods, leaves crunching, twigs snapping. I tripped, fell hard to the ground. When I turned around, she was bounding toward me, and I knew I couldn’t escape. I remember being in this same bed with my mom when she and I visited Gramz. When I couldn’t fall asleep, Mom would wrap me in a big hug until I did. I lie back down and put my arm around Jeannie’s waist and hold her close.
***
Dad and Jeannie left early this morning to hike Sunshine Meadow and to leave tulips, Mom’s favorite flower, at the top. Grandma and I sit in her sunroom and drink coffee while Ruby sleeps in a sunbeam on the rug. The bear figurine is on the coffee table in front of us.
“The bear’s now your talisman.” Gramz has always been a bit “out there” with her solstice parties, energy clearing, and interest in most things new age. “It’s a great honor and responsibility to have Bear walking beside you. She’ll speak to you if you listen.”
“What do you mean, if I listen?”
“You say she comes to you in your dreams—you can draw power from that. Before you go to sleep, ask her what she wants to share with you.”
“Not dreams, Gramz—nightmares. I’m always scared out of my mind. I wake up sweating and shaking.”
Gramz takes a sip of coffee, brushes a strand of gray hair behind her ear and weighs her words.
“From ancient times right up to the present, people from all over the world have believed that certain individuals are watched over by animal spirits that act as their ‘life guides’ or talismans. Some people, including me, believe that talismans can bring strength and wisdom. Maybe that mamma bear is showing you that you have more power and courage than you ever imagined.”
“I’m pretty sure I will never feel powerful or courageous ever again in my entire life.”
Gramz leans in close, takes my hand, and looks me right in the eyes. “It’s time to stop hiding, Abby. Stop cowering from life. You’re letting what happened to you take your power away.” She picks up the bear figurine and hands it to me. “Don’t run away from her—learn to dance with her.”
I look closely at the bear and imagine her dancing.
TAMMY
Mr. Owen walks around the class handing back drafts of our monologues and plays. I’ve got excited butterflies in my stomach. Owen hands me mine, gives me a disapproving look. On the title page of “Tormented” it reads:
Abby,
This isn’t a monologue, it’s a histrionic rant. I know what kind of writing you’re capable of and I want to see that in the next draft.
J. Owen.
My heart sinks. I was so sure I nailed it. I thought I had written everything he asked for: an important event that happened to us, what we’ve learned, what’s important to us.
Obviously not.
I pull the bear figurine out of my purse and hold it.
“I was pretty impressed with some of the writing I read. Others,” Owen looks right at me, “I know can do a hell of a lot better. Draft two by week’s end. I’m expecting great things, so don’t disappoint.”
I whisper to the bear, “Tell me what I need to write.”
Mason turns, looks at the figurine then at me. I want to give him the finger but decide against it. Don’t want to fuel the already smoking-
hot fire. I slip the bear back into my purse.
“Tammy, you’re up for rehearsal,” Owen says and moves to the back of the room.
Tammy goes to the front of the class. “My monologue is called, ‘Ten Things You Need to Know About Transitioning.’ It doesn’t really need a setup.” Tammy used to be Jeremy. She used to be a he and has been transitioning since we were fifteen. I first met Jeremy in grade three. He was the only boy in my class who would come over and play dress-up with me. And definitely the only boy I knew who had Barbie’s Dreamhouse and Pop-Up Camper.
“Number one. If anyone tells you that transitioning, whether from male to female or female to male, is an easy road, they’re lying.” Tammy has shoulder-length wavy hair with red and blond highlights. Wears tons of makeup, but it looks natural in a strange kind of way. Even with the bright turquoise eye shadow. “It will turn your world upside down, kick your ass, and make you obsessively question every little thing in your life.
“Number two. If you’re transitioning from male to female like I
did, brace yourself for the toxic culture of beauty. The beauty industry makes billions of dollars exploiting women’s insecurities about their looks with messages and images aiming to tear down our self-
esteem. A few months into my transition, I told my aunt I couldn’t wait to see a pretty girl look back at me in the mirror. She said, ‘You realize that’s never going to happen, right? You’re going to look at your reflection and feel as unsatisfied as every other woman.’ ”
This gets a few uncomfortable, knowing laughs. I can’t help but think of the Hive, of me. Tammy goes on to tell about her journey, sometimes funny but more often painful. Trying to tear down the old and rebuild this new person she’s become.
“Number ten. Be your authentic self. As someone who is transgender, I spent most of my life pretending to be someone I wasn’t to please my family, friends, and society in general. It was exhausting, and I made myself miserable because of it. I hit some very low points where I even contemplated suicide. But the most important thing transitioning has taught me is that life is way too short to worry about what other people think of you. Be who you are. Live out loud in quadraphonic sound. You deserve to live an authentic life.”
Tammy’s words sink deep into my body. I wonder when I will allow my authentic self to finally show up.
***
It’s sunny and unseasonably warm, so everyone sits outside at the picnic tables to eat lunch. The soft wind smells of damp earth. The farmer’s field by the school has pools of water where the piles of snow melted, and there’s now only splotchy snow on the mountain peaks.
I can’t eat with Simon. He and Jackson are showing a girl named Olivia from their engineering electronics class around the school. Her mother just got transferred from Colorado to Calgary, from one oil patch to another. I don’t see Grace, Serena, or Briar, but I do see Tammy sitting alone at a picnic table.
“Mind if I sit here?” I ask her.
“Not at all,” she says. When she tucks her hair behind her ear, a large silver hoop earring glints in the light.
“Your monologue was great, by the way. So much I didn’t know about you, what you’ve gone through.” I take my leftover veggie stir-fry out of my bag.
“Yeah, it was a hard thing to write. Had to relive a lot of those experiences.”
I can relate about writing on a subject that dredges up difficult and painful memories.
“Sorry I wasn’t there for you, Tammy. I guess I’ve been on my own planet the past couple of years.”
“No worries. I’ve had a pretty strong network around me.” She runs her hand across both cheeks. “What do you think? My facial hair is slowly going away. Too slowly for my liking, but I’ve just got to be patient.”
“Yeah, you’re looking great all over.” I’m especially jealous of her new perky boobs.
“When you don’t like the package, change it.”
“Wish it were that easy.”
“Sorry, Abby, I didn’t mean…”
“Forget about it. It’s just me still feeling sorry for myself.”
“Must be weird being back at school, eh?” she says, studying the scars on my face curiously—not in an obnoxious way like most people do.
“Yup, it sure is.”
“I’ll never forget the first day of grade ten when I came to school in a pink poodle skirt with high white boots.” Tammy takes a salad container out of her bag. “The last day of grade nine I’d worn my rugby jersey and torn jeans.”
“You were so awesome, strutting around the halls, flirting with the guys.”
“Thanks to drama class, because I was dying inside—felt so incredibly self-conscious. Actually, I hated my body then. But I really played it up with Mason, Rocky View’s macho man. Thought he was going to shit himself. But man, did I ever pay for that.”
“What happened?” I slurp some bean sprouts.
“You know, typical bullying stuff. Name-calling, spreading rumors, stealing my stuff, nasty Snapchat messages.”
“Did you ever tell anyone about it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I did. Schultzy. But then the shit really hit the fan when Mason and Dax got hauled into Hardy’s office.” Tammy forks her spinach salad.
“What happened?”
“After school one day, they crammed me into a locker in the guys’ phys ed change room. Took two hours for Harris to find me.”
“Holy shit. Why don’t I know this?”
“Next time I saw Mason, I just snapped. Punched the shit out of him—think I broke his nose. He hasn’t bugged me since.”
“I’m having Mason problems of my own. Maybe I should practice my left hook,” I joke.
“I’d help you out, but I don’t want any blood on my sage-green cashmere sweater and matching skinny jeans.” We both have a laugh. “How well do you know Mason?” Tammy asks.
“We went out in the summer of grade ten and into grade eleven.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. That was before Liam.” Tammy looks at me knowingly. I wish she, along with everyone else, would catch a serious case of amnesia.
“I was such an idiot.” I try to shake the memory from my mind.
“It’s none of my business, but what happened between you and Mason?” Tammy asks.
“When Mason and I were still going out, Liam and I hooked up on a backpacking trip. And then we got together another time. I waited too long to tell Mason, and he went apeshit when he found out.” I fork a hunk of red pepper. “There was a bunch of other stuff, too, that I won’t bore you with. Suffice it to say, it was a very unhealthy relationship.”
“We all make mistakes, Abby.”
“Yeah, well, mine is coming back to haunt me. The main reason I went out with Mason in the first place was because he was taller than me, had bulging biceps and wheels to drive me around. How shallow is that?”
“Pretty shallow.” Tammy breaks into a big smile, which makes me feel a little less horrible about myself. “Not that it’s an excuse for being such a dick, but Mason probably told you his parents knocked him around when he was a kid. He was in and out of foster homes for a while.”
“Yeah, he told me a little about it.” I take another bite. “You don’t think Mason would do anything dangerous, do you?”
“You know he spent most of junior high school in juvie?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“He set fire to his neighbor’s garage, threatened a teacher, and stole a computer from school,” Tammy said.
“I didn’t hear about that.” I’m shocked. The stir-fry turns sour in my stomach.
“I’m surprised he’s lasted this long in high school without being locked up again.” Tammy gives me a questioning look. “What’s really going on with you and Mason?”
“You know, same bullying stuff he did to you. Nothing I can’t handle.” Quick! Deflect! “So what’s Dax’s excuse?”
Tammy shrugs. “Blind leading the blind?”
We’re quiet for a few minutes, both eating our lunches. From what Tammy has said, ratting out Mason to Schultzy or Hardy will definitely make everything worse. I feel so trapped. Fuck!
“Who are you going to grad with?” Tammy asks.
“Liam. You going?”
“Yup, with Charley, and I already bought my dress. Imagine this: salmon chiffon, spaghetti straps, and a plunging neckline.”
“Sounds très sexy. Good for you, Tammy.” I wish I had even a microgram of her courage and self-confidence.
Tammy looks me up and down. “I don’t mean to be a bitch or anything, but what happened to you?”
I’m surprised at her comment. “It was on the news, Tammy. The whole world knows what happened to me.”
“Not talking about the run-in with the bear. Just that you used to dress so stylishly, in a cool boho kind of way. I always admired your taste in clothes. But now…”
I look down at my hiking shorts and faded T-shirt with a coffee stain on the front. Tammy hands me her phone.
“Plug in your coordinates. You need a makeover.”
MAN VERSUS GRIZZLY
After school, I talk Simon into coming to the Calgary Zoo with me. We stand outside the bear enclosure. We’re alone, no other visitors around. Although there’s a pretty high fence between us and the grizzly bear sleeping in the sun, I stand behind Simon, as if he can somehow protect me if the bear smashes through the reinforced wire.
“Why are we here again?” Simon asks.
“So I can face my fear, try to get some inspiration to write this stupid monologue for drama, whatever.”
“That guy’s not looking too scary.”
But the bear smell brings me right back. Images of her huge paw clawing at me. My head in her mouth. My whole body shivers.
“Let’s wake him up. Make it worth your while.” Simon yells out, “Hey, Mr. Grizzly, wakey, wakey. Time to get up.”
Surprisingly, the bear raises its head and looks over at us.
“That’s better,” says Simon. The bear slowly hauls its huge body to standing position. Stretches like Ruby does after a nap. “Now we’re talkin.’ ”
The grizzly ambles toward us. My knees feel wobbly. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
“Look at the guy. He’s harmless, like a big puppy.”
Still hiding behind Simon, I open my eyes just a sliver. He does look harmless. I shut my eyes again and try to imagine myself in the enclosure with the bear, reaching out to touch his thick fur, feeding him berries out of my hand. That is, until—
“Oh my God, oh my God!” Simon yells. My eyes spring open. The grizzly is now right on the other side of the fence. Simon is truly freaked out. The bear opens its huge mouth in a ferocious growl, showing its long, sharp teeth. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We turn around and run down the pathway as fast as our legs will go. Simon’s laughing hysterically. Me, I’m just hysterical.