by Leanne Baugh
“Here we go…” Grace has obviously gotten an earful and didn’t tell me.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, pulling into the upscale subdivision where Serena lives.
“Liam’s been acting so strange around me ever since the bush party. Did you talk to him?”
“Yes, but—”
“What did you say to him? He stormed out of the party right after, so you must have said something to make him leave.”
“I didn’t say anything. Ask Liam why he left.” No way I’m getting into this with her.
“Did you say something to Liam about me?”
“Of course not.”
“Let me just come right out and ask you, Abby. Are you trying to steal my date for grad?” Serena asks. “Is this what it’s all about?” She sucks in her already sunken cheeks.
“Geez, Serena,” Grace says. Even Briar looks shocked. I pull up to Serena’s house that looks like a small castle. No moat with alligators or a drawbridge, but it does have a large turret.
“I’ve got my own date for grad.” I just don’t tell her it’s my dad. And my sister. Grace gives me a “what the…?” look but luckily keeps quiet.
“Liam won’t answer my texts, phone calls, or Facebook messages. And when I talk to him at school about plans for grad night, he always changes the subject or walks away.”
“Maybe because you always come on so strong. You never give guys any space,” Grace says. “They probably feel smothered.”
“Did Liam walk you to phys ed this afternoon?” Serena asks me.
“Yeah, but—”
Serena opens her door, gets out, and slams the door. Briar sheepishly follows. “Thanks for the ride.” She closes the door, hesitates, then follows Serena.
“What was that all about?” I say.
“Tell me why I’ve been her friend the past four years,” Grace says.
“You’re asking me?” I say.
“Okay, tell me. Who is this mysterious grad date you’ve been keeping from me?” Grace looks at me all wide-eyed for a juicy explanation.
DANCING WITH THE BEAR
There’s a lineup of cars ahead of us filling up the school parking lot for the drama performance.
“Wow, looks like the whole community’s out tonight,” Gramz says.
“Springbank really rallies behind the school programs,” Dad says. “It’s impressive.”
A nervous, feeling in my chest comes in waves. We find an empty spot and park. I see a group of grade ten students wearing astronaut costumes walk through the parking lot. Obviously staging their short play tonight. They’re like the warm-up band for our graduation performances. I see Zoe with her mom and brother head into the school. I wonder who will end up winning the summer internship. If I can’t settle this nervous feeling, I’m so going to bomb.
I walk Dad and Gramz to the gym door.
“You’re going to be amazing tonight,” she says, holding my hand.
“Good luck, kiddo,” Dad says. He first puts a hand on my shoulder and then wraps me in a hug. I’m shocked. And happy.
“Meet you here later,” I say.
Before I lock my purse in my locker (yes, I now have a lock), I search the “Evolve” Facebook page on my phone, close my eyes, and scroll and scroll. I open my eyes and read this: “Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it.” Hmm…
I start down the hall toward the stairwell to head up to the drama room where all the performers are meeting.
“Hey, Abby,” Carter says as he and Leon run to join me.
“You look nice,” Leon says. I changed clothes about a hundred times. I started with my hiking shorts, boots, and backpack—sort of a lame costume—but ended up wearing the sundress I bought when I was shopping with Tammy.
“Thanks. How’s it going?” I ask.
“To be honest I’m so nervous I could puke,” Leon says.
“Join the party,” I say. We start up the stairs.
“Remember when we were in like, grade three, no cares in the world, performing in front of an audience?” Carter says. “When did we get so insecure and self-conscious?”
“All I know is growing up sucks, big time,” I say.
“You’re so right about that,” Leon says.
We get to the landing. Memories flash through my mind: Mason, Dax, and stoner posse; Bear Bait; poor Leon; the UR SO FN UGLY Messenger memes. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Breathe deeply.
***
“Listen up, people,” Mr. Owen says to the performers in the drama room. “Best to just stay backstage, but if you have to leave for any reason, let Mrs. Schultz know. She will be keeping track of everyone.”
I look around the room. Tali is on the verge of tears, Tammy’s a bit nervous, Mason points his chin at me and Dax looks over, Leon and Carter are jumpy and play boxing, and Zoe is incredibly calm. Maybe she knows this is a slam-dunk for her.
“Questions? No?” Owen continues. “Okay, get out there and break a leg everyone.”
When we gather backstage, I hear a rumble of voices in the gym. I open the stage curtains a crack and see that pretty much every chair is taken. Gramz and Dad are sitting close to the front. Serena, Briar, Keegan, Liam, and Gus are hanging out at the back. Grace, Simon, and Olivia have front-row seats. I remember feeling a bit uneasy before last year’s performance when I was Joan of Arc, the lead performer. But that was nothing like the jitters I have tonight.
After the grade tens perform, it’s Carter and Leon, Zoe, Tammy, and Mason and Dax. Then an intermission. I’m on right after the break. Tali’s last.
Although I really want to watch the grade tens’ Star Trek spoof, I have to pee. Again. “Just going to the washroom,” I tell Schultzy, who is checking her clipboard.
“No lollygagging in there, Abby, okay?” she says.
***
As I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror. I packed on the makeup so thick it looks like a mask. At this very moment, I decide not to hide behind my makeup. I stare at myself for a long time then wet a paper towel and scrub off all the foundation and concealer caked on my face. My scars are now visible, my cheek looks even more sunken, and my wonky eye still doesn’t open very wide. But this is me. The real me. As I am. I take the bear figurine out of my pocket, look at it closely, and hold it tightly in my hand. My talisman.
I lean against the door with my shoulder to open it, and Mason and Dax push me back into the bathroom. Mason locks the door behind him.
“What the…?” My heart starts to pound. The figurine drops out of my hand and lands on the floor.
“Nice! A souvenir,” Dax says picking it up and stuffing it in his pocket.
“Give that back!” I yell.
Mason covers my head with a cloth bag, while Dax holds my arms behind me.
“Stop it!” I yell as loudly as I can, but it’s muffled through the bag that smells like cigarette smoke and gasoline. It must be black because I can only see dim, muted light. I try to wriggle out of Dax’s grasp, but I’m held even tighter. “Mason!”
I hear the tearing of tape, and then it’s wrapped around my neck so the bag is secured in place. It feels tight. Constricting. My head is already hot, and I gasp for breath. Mason grabs my head with his big hands. “Told you I’d need a bag over your head, slut.”
Dread floods my body. “You wouldn’t.”
Mason lets out a maniacal laugh, and it doesn’t sound fake. “Definitely would—and will.”
“Mason!” I yell. “Let me go. Please!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Mason says.
More tearing of tape. I wiggle and squirm to try to release from Dax’s grasp. I’m terrified as my wrists and ankles get securely wrapped in duct tape.
“We gotta get out of here,” Dax says.
My lum
p of a body is thrown forward, over a shoulder that I presume is Mason’s. The click to unlock the door.
“Hallway’s clear,” Dax says.
I bump around as Mason runs down the hallway. I can hear Dax following. Down the stairs by the gym.
“Please, Mason. Let me go. Please!” I’m carried down another long hallway, and then I hear the clink of a key in a lock. A door opens. I’m flung down hard on the floor on my back, the door slams closed. It’s dark, but I can tell by the stink of dirty rags and strong detergent that I’m in the custodian’s closet. It’s also quiet. Dax and Mason must have taken off to perform their stupid play. I fumble around and try to take the duct tape off my wrists. No way it’s budging. I wriggle myself to a seated position and inchworm across the floor. I slam my head and shoulder against the door.
“Help! Please, help me! Someone!”
There’s no one around this part of the school at this time of night. I pound my head and yell for a few more minutes before I give up. I start to feel sick from the smell of the bag and lack of air. And the adrenaline and terror. When I finally broke up with Mason, he told me that if he couldn’t have me, he’d make sure no one else could. The thought of what he might do to me makes me shake uncontrollably, and it doesn’t take long for the tears to race down my face.
I wonder what time it is. By now, Carter and Leon, Zoe, and maybe Tammy will have finished their performances. Mason and Dax would have made it back just in time. Schultzy is probably very pissed off with me for disappearing. I yell and pound my head one more time.
I do my best to chase out every thought of Mason that creeps into my mind. I think of the Evolve quote: “Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it.”
Well, my present moment of being hog-tied with duct tape and locked in a janitor’s closet that smells of wet mops and detergent may be a wee bit hard to accept. Acceptance is definitely something I’ve struggled with this past year. And trust. Trusting that everything works out like it needs to. This is not a moment I would have chosen, but I clear my throat and begin to rehearse my monologue. I feel my hot breath as I speak into the bag covering my head. My voice—like my entire body—is shaky, but soon it sounds strong.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I finally hear footsteps and voices coming down the hall. “Help me!” Again I yell and pound on the door with my head. “I’m in here!” A key rattles the handle and the door pushes open.
“Oh my God!”
“Schultzy?” I say.
“You poor thing,” she says and begins to unravel the tape around my neck. She pulls the bag off my head. Ms. Cooper, the custodian, swears under her breath, mumbles something about Mason stealing her key as she cuts the duct tape off my wrists.
“Are you all right?” Schultzy asks, her forehead folds in deep worried lines.
I shake my head, tears stream down my face. My wrists and ankles are finally free. I stand up on shaky legs and wipe away my tears. “Mason? Where is he?” I anxiously look up and down the hallway.
“He can’t hurt you, Abby. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he never comes near you again.” Schultzy gently holds my arms. “We can talk about this later. But right now I’ll get your father to take you home.”
I slip out of her arms. “No way, Schultzy. I have to perform my monologue.”
“After what you’ve just been through? No hon. I think it’s best if you go home.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She gives me a concerned look. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “I have to do this.”
“Then we’d better step on the gas. You’re up next.”
Ms. Cooper stays behind and locks up while Schultzy hurries me down the hallway. I see Mr. Hardy following Mason and Dax into his office. For the first time ever, Mason and Dax look scared shitless. I feel a strange mix of tremendous relief, fear, and…sorrow.
When we arrive backstage, everyone gives me a weird look, as if I tried to bail on the showcase. I can only imagine how I look after crying with a bag over my head for the past hour. I smooth down my hair, which is all tangled at the back.
Mr. Owen comes over, looking concerned. He knows something serious has happened, but he doesn’t know what. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Abby?”
I breathe deeply and nod. He puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.
Schultzy peeks around the curtain. Tali is just finishing her monologue. This means I’ve been bumped to the very last performance of the evening. I cross my arms and hold them close to my body.
I hear the audience clap and whistle, and Tali bursts through the curtains looking pretty pumped. Mr. Owen walks through the curtains to the stage. I hear him say, “The last student from the graduating class is Abby Hughes, who will perform her monologue ‘Dancing with the Bear.’” The audience claps. Owen peers at me through the crack in the curtains. Schultzy nods. I’m suddenly frozen in place. She takes me by the elbow and gives me a gentle nudge.
I walk through the curtains and onto the stage. The rumble of conversation dies down. A sea of faces stares at me. No one out there knows that I was just locked in a closet for almost an hour. Not even Gramz or Dad. My arms are still wrapped around me. I let go and try to stand tall. I put my hand in my pocket to hold the wooden bear but remember I dropped it in the bathroom. Dax has it. My whole body shudders for the audience to see. I look for Grace, who has a huge smile and gives me a double thumbs-up. Simon looks at me intently. He knows something’s gone wrong. Although the stage lights are bright, I think I can make out Liam standing against the wall at the back of the gym. I slowly walk to the microphone and begin.
“The strange thing was I didn’t feel anything, at least not while it was happening. Her bear smell was overpowering, like a hundred dead skunks on a pile of rotting leaves. I buried my hand in her thick, oily fur, maybe to push her away, I can’t remember.” My voice sounds weak and squeaky, my body is stiff. I take some deep breaths to relax.
“I looked into her small beady eyes, touched her nose, which reminded me of my dog Ruby’s, black and wet. The bear was panting frantically. I heard a crunching and a slurping, realized it was my skull being crushed by her powerful jaw and sharp teeth. With my head in her mouth, I felt my body thrown around like a rag doll.”
I desperately try to conjure up my performance memory as Owen taught us. I prepared well for this. “Your odds of being struck by lightning are one in three thousand. Drowning in a bathtub—one in eight hundred thousand. What’s your chance of being mauled by a grizzly bear? Only one in two million. I always was one to beat the odds.” Chuckles from the audience. This makes my tense shoulders loosen a little.
“It was last year, the weekend of June 20th. The day started out like every hiker’s dream—a few fluffy white clouds floating in brilliant blue skies, and the sun felt especially warm. Five of us on a three-day backpack trip to Egypt Lake. Two of us had just completed grade eleven. The other three had all recently graduated and would soon be moving away to start new lives. This trip was really a final hurrah for them. The Parks Canada notice on the trailhead bulletin board read Caution: grizzly bear sighted in the area. We were a group of five crazies who had a habit of singing Abba songs at the top of our lungs while hiking.” Laughs from the audience as I sing the chorus of Mamma Mia and dance around the stage. I’m starting to get into my body. Feel a rhythm. Next I sing a few lines from Dancing Queen. “No grizzly in its right mind would dare come near us.” More laughs. I pause for a long moment to change the pace.
“My eyes were swollen shut. I could hear the hospital machines beep and hiss. Felt the rough skin of my dad’s hand caressing mine. I touched my head. My hair was gone. I could only feel the zigzag of sutures and bandages, hardened with patches of dried blood. My grandma told me later that the only thing recognizable about me was my voice. For what
felt like an eternity, I lived in a world inside my head, wondering if I was actually dead.
“Surgery number one: remove the dead scalp at the back of my head. Surgery number two: remove a drain that was syphoning fluids from my brain. Surgery number three: suture the pieces of my face back together. Surgery number four: take a skin graft from my thigh and apply it to the back of my head.
“It was our last day, we were hiking back down the trail to Healy Creek. I had to pee, so the others waited for me around a bend in the trail. I dropped my pack and went through some bushes, bent down to have a look at a purple wildflower I’d never seen before. I heard loud panting and a ferocious growl. I saw her two cubs first. Then a mass of brown fur charging me. My heart hammered in my chest as I scrambled up the nearest tree. Grizzlies may not be able to climb trees, but their six hundred pound bodies can barrel toward a tree as fast as thirty-miles an hour. I was sent flying. A horrific screeching came out of me that barely sounded human.
“Grizzly bears are a subspecies of the brown bear. Their life span in the wild is twenty to twenty-five years. Grizzly bears are top-of-the-food-chain predators, but most of their diet is made up of nuts, berries, fruit, bugs, leaves, and roots. Grizzlies dig dens, often in the side of hills, and hibernate for one hundred and fifty to two hundred and thirteen days. Females give birth while in hibernation and produce one to four cubs. Mothers are fiercely protective of their young, following their instincts—maternal, wild, and nurturing. I’m alive, and the mother grizzly bear is dead, shot by wildlife officers.” I try to will the tears back into my head. My voice sounds shaky. “She was just trying to protect her babies. Rather than capture her cubs, wildlife officials decided to leave them in the wild, let nature take its course. One cub was hit by a train, the other was hit by a car.” A few tears sneak down my cheeks. I wipe them with my hand.
“I touched what remained of my skull. It was an empty cavity. Warm blood oozing everywhere. I heard my friend screaming—I was terrified that the grizzly was going after him.” I glance to the back of the gym at Liam. “I tried to call out his name but my mouth refused to work. I heard voices in the distance. Panicked voices. ‘We’ll go for help,’ I heard. Someone covered me in sleeping bags. I drifted in and out of consciousness. The whoop-whoop-whoop of the helicopter woke me up.