The bear rumbled at the sound, but instead of waking, it only nudged itself deeper into the gap I’d vacated.
What the actualfuck?How was this bear not eating me right now?
With hands firmly locked at my sides, I tried my best to move without rustling my outer jacket shell or making a sound. I rose to my knees, then slowly to my feet. Taking one small step back after another, I kept my eyes fixed on the sleeping black bear.
There was bear spray in my supplies at some point, but there was no telling where it was now. Though I’d put many items back into the pack that was currently flattened beneath the bear, I don’t recall noticing the bear spray. With any luck, it was still outside in the snow.
Emerging from the overhang, I spun, now far enough from the beast to feel a modicum of safety. I fixed my gaze on the ground, scanning for the red and yellow bear spray can. Kneeling, I brushed away the scant inch of overnight snow. Wrappers and other discarded items emerged before a familiar neon red nozzle appeared.
I all but dove for it.
Fresh, powder-like snow drifted up my sleeves, bringing back a shiver I thought had long since vanished. I rolled over, coming up and aiming the can toward the bear, feeling like James Bond.
The bear was still sleeping.
I let out a sigh and let the can drop to my side.
A branch snapped behind me.
Trigger-happy, I spun toward the new sound, pressing down on the nozzle and unleashing a far-reaching cloud of yellow-orange spray.
“Oh, hell no!” someone shouted before the orange smoke cleared, revealing Gray.
He clutched his face and coughed hard, bent over with a rifle at his feet. He blinked, his eyes instantly red and swollen, tears streaming down his face.
I gasped and dropped the can into the snow, running up to him.“Gray, God... are you okay?” My breath plumed out like clouds in front of me as I remembered to breathe.
“Ugh, damn it, Buttercup,” he grunted, falling to his knees and reaching for some snow to wipe his face.
I heard a growl from behind us and spun around to see the black bear lumber out from under the overhang. It looked bleary-eyed and tired, as if it wasn’t ready to wake up yet.Regardless, it washuge.
“Bear!” I yelled, grabbing my discarded bear spray and fumbling to get my thumb on the trigger again. I put myself between Gray and the bear, prepared to lay down my life.
Grabbing my weaponized wrist, Gray halted me.“Betty, stop,” he wheezed.“She won’t hurt us.”
I glanced from the bear to Gray, then back to the bear, my eyes wide with alarm. The bear yawned and plopped down onto its rump. I jumped, feeling the ground shake under the bear’s weight. She sat there, watching us as though casually sitting at the park watching birds, nose in the air, sniffing blindly.
“Her name is Tallulah,” Gray added, energy calm but panting.“She’s old and quite accustomed to my company. Don’t worry, I’ve only ever seen her eat fish, not New Yorkers.”
“I... I...what?”I stammered. My heart pounded like a drum, threatening to escape my chest and start its own rock band.
“She won’t hurt us,” he clarified. He face-planted into the snow, a muffled sigh escaping.
I watched the bear, convinced she was asleep again, though upright. Hand on chest to regroup my emotions, I allowed myself to take in the stinky ball of fur. She was cute, I’d give her that. I could see the age on her, despite knowing almost nothing about black bears. She had a peppering of white fur around her eyes and a droopy snout. I guessed these were signs of age in the same way they would be for humans?
Once I calmed down, after several long minutes, I put a hand on Gray’s back to comfort him. He remained face down in the snow, only surfacing to draw breath.
There was a distinct and growing sense of guilt blooming in my gut. I’d betrayed his trust, scared him by leaving, and now rendered him blind. He’d saved my life, and this was my way of repaying him?
He lifted his face from the snow.“What the hell are you doing out here, Betty?” he asked frankly. His face looked flushed; his eyes were puffy.
I slipped off a glove, took his chin, and tilted his head back to see better. His hat was pushed back, and I pinched the bill and tipped it the rest of the way off his head.“Do you have a first-aid kit?” I asked, my voice shaky.
He nodded, eyes still shut.“It’s on the snowmobile, just around the bend,” he ground out, adding,“I knew Tallulah’s den was around here, and I didn’t want to startle her by driving right up to the entrance.”
I looked at the cliff and the overhang I’d scaled. It was rather obvious now. Clearly, it looked like a bear’s den. I’d been in a rush yesterday and wasn’t accustomed to the idea that bear dens could just exist, plain as day.
I rocked to my feet and jogged around a copse of trees in the direction Gray had gestured. The snowmobile sat near a tree, engine still clicking with heat. Larry was there inspecting a bag strapped to the back and perusing the contents; it did not surprise me.
