I threw the blankets off, hit the bathroom, and took a shower, hoping I’d feel better after his scent was washed away, taking with it the constant reminder of all that was Asher. Shower complete, hair dried, and new clothes on, and I wasn’t better at all.
My stomach growled, and I considered going downstairs to eat breakfast, but then I’d have to talk to Bobby. There was no way he didn’t hear us last night. What would I say when he greeted me? “Oh yeah, I brought some guy back here and we did the deed, and then he boogalooed because I couldn’t even keep a short-term dude.” That wasn’t embarrassing at all.
I briefly considered going to Mike’s to get something to eat, but everyone had seen us leave together. Would they know what we’d done? Probably not. Would they guess, based on how I blushed every time I thought about it? Probably. And what if he was there?
Instead, I dug into my bag and pulled out a protein bar I’d packed for my trip here. Something was better than nothing. I took a bite and wished they had a fast food breakfast place around here. I didn’t know how people ate these things on a regular basis. There was nothing delicious about it, but it filled my belly and gave me some nutrition. I decided to call it good enough.
I thought back to yesterday at Mike’s Place, after the table beside me left but before I met Asher, when people finally started opening up. There were some bear sightings not far from where I was, according to one older woman, too far to walk, but only a few minutes’ car ride.
Maybe that was what I needed to do, to go check that out. I’d be able to see if they were there thanks to all the snow, their tracks would stand out. What harm could it do? I’d just take a gander.
At least, that was what I told myself as I threw on my winter gear, grabbed my snowshoes and keys, and drove the short distance, not stopping on my way to the car to say anything to Bobby. I’d face him later. I had to slow my spiraling brain down first.
I wasn’t the best at snowshoeing, but I’d practiced some, knowing I was coming here. The snow where I’d been was barely snow compared to here, where it was pretty deep. I’d find out soon enough how much that made a difference.
It didn’t take long for me to find the location, and sure enough, there were tracks. With the gusts of wind, I couldn’t be 1000% sure they were polar bear tracks, but they were the right size and worth a follow.
I walked alongside them, excited that maybe I’d get to see a polar bear in the wild for the first time in my life. That should’ve scared me a little. They weren’t exactly human-friendly creatures. But also, if they lived around here, there were no indications they’d ever hurt anybody. It was a pretty safe bet that I’d be fine, as long as I kept my distance.
The tracks weren’t fresh. I wouldn’t call them old, but definitely not from today, more likely within the past week though. The scientist in me knew better than to do this. The little boy who fell in love with polar bears in me didn’t care.
What surprised me was that the tracks didn’t lead to the river or up the mountains or any of the places I had expected they would. Instead, they led to a cabin. It wasn’t vacant and abandoned, not by the scent of smoke from a fireplace or possibly a wood stove. There was no indication anyone was there now, the lights out and no smoke coming from the chimney, but they’d been there recently enough.
Even if there was someone home, I wasn’t going to go knocking and ask if there was a bear in their house. It would feel like I was cosplaying Goldilocks.
My gut said to leave, to run away. My curiosity wanted to take off my glove, fish out my phone, and document everything. If I’d had my thoughts about me when I started, I’d have connected my phone to a mic and been dictating the entire way. But I hadn’t. I’d been so busy running from my morning heartbreak that none of this was pieced together well.
I froze, the sound of someone coming from behind me startling me. Only it wasn’t a person. It was too loud for that, but also not motorized like a car or a snowmobile. It was definitely alive.
Panic struck, and I tried to turn to leave and instead caught a glimpse of white fur. That was when all rational thought fled, and I ran.
Running and snowshoeing didn’t go together. At least they didn’t for me. My shoes got snagged on each other, and I fell to the ground. I did the same thing, not once, not twice, but three times on my way back to my car.
I didn’t know how I was going to manage this research if I couldn’t even go for a nature walk near a cabin where I could have possibly gotten help or at a minimum shelter. Because obviously, the bears were not in the house no matter how the tracks looked. That would be ridiculous.
How was I going to spend time studying the bears if a walk through the woods had me such a mess?
Get a grip, Weston. Get a grip.
I reached the car, shaking so badly that even once I fished the keys out of my pocket, getting the door open was difficult. All I had to do was press a button, but I kept missing it, the alarm going off, then not off, on repeat until finally I got in and pulled away, forgetting about my seatbelt, not wanting to take those extra few seconds. I pulled into the B&B, and I did just like in the storybook when I was little and they were going on a bear hunt: I ran inside, straight upstairs, only to remember that I had to shut the door. I ran back downstairs again, shut the door, and went back to my room.
I could’ve sworn I heard Bobby laughing, but it didn’t matter. Let him laugh. I was safe and back, and that was all that mattered.
I tore off my clothes, not bothering to hang them up. That was a problem for Future Weston. I turned on the water as hot as it could be for the shower and climbed inside. The tears began to fall.
For the first time, I was wondering if I had made the right decision coming here. Why was I so scared? In my dreams, I was happy to be with the polar bears. My entire life, I’d been working for this moment, and then just a glimpse of fur and suddenly I was a coward.
On a professional level, I didn’t care what it meant. If I called things off now, I wouldn’t owethatmuch money. It would be a lot, but I’d figure it out. My concerns were more about letting down the bears. I was here to help them, to figure out why they were here, to figure out how to give them the life they deserved. If I were to be their advocate, I needed to get past this.
Sitting on the shower floor, I hugged my knees as the water pelted down on me. I was going to give myself permission for this, going to allow myself this breakdown, because once I got out of this shower, I was no longer going to let this fear control me.
I refused to.
I’d worked too hard to get here, only to give up now.
The polar bears deserved better than that.
9
