It was just one of the ways that things were changing, around the cabin. The previous morning, she’d walked in and told me that she was done with Betsy.
I blinked, thrown. “Betsy?” Then I looked at the bucket in her hand. “You gave the cow a name?”
She flushed, then lifted her chin and looked defiant. “Cows need love too.”
I shook my head, bemused, but I was smiling. “Okay.”
“And the same goes for Hank.”
“Han—You gave the goat a name, too?” I thought for a second. “Please tell me you didn’t name the chickens.”
“Amy, Adele, Florence, Whitney, Madonna, and Beyonce.”
“But not the—”
“Winklenose, Snortle and Rolypoly.” And she looked me right in the eye, daring me to laugh at her. But I didn’t. I just nodded and thought it was adorable.
There’d been lots of little changes like that. Like seeing her boots, stuffed with newspaper, lined up next to mine by the door. Like all the jars in the cupboard suddenly having labels, something I’d never gotten around to doing. Like, when I went out hunting with Rufus, how he’d bound the last hundred yards back to the cabin, excitedly barking, and then leap up at Bethany as she opened the door and not stop running around her until she tickled his tummy.
Ever since I’d built the cabin, there’d been something missing, something I’d never been able to put my finger on. I only knew that it didn’t feel like the place I’d been raised in. It was warm and dry but it didn’t feel like a home.
Until she arrived.
I didn’t know what to do about that. Everything was getting too damn comfortable. Sometimes I’d be sitting with her on the steps, drinking coffee, throwing a stick for Rufus to fetch and I’d almost slip into thinking that this could work, that she could just stay here forever.
And then the past would hit me, a freezing wave that swamped me, drowned me, left me choking for breath. How could I forget, even for a second? How could I forget what I’d done? I didn’t deserve Bethany, didn’t deserve any sort of peace. Being out here, far from people, was my punishment and my escape. But it was no life for her. She might be enjoying things now but long term, this solitude would drive her crazy. She needed people around her, friends...and one day, a husband and kids. I couldn’t give her that.
I had to keep the two of us apart but that was getting harder and harder.
The next day, we set off for town before dawn. It was a six-hour walk each way, so with a little time in town to buy supplies, it would be dark again before we were back.
It was a beautiful day. As the sun rose, we came out of the pines and into an area of aspens. Their leaves were changing from gold to deep orange and with the rising sun blasting warm light through every brightly-colored leaf, it was like walking through a palace of stained glass. We didn’t speak, just watched in amazement, soaking it up. And it hit me that I’d never had anyone to share this stuff with, until now.
Mid-morning, we came to the top of a rise and stopped for a water break, looking out over an unbroken sea of yellow and scarlet treetops. Bethany sat on a log and Rufus immediately laid his head in her lap for ear scratches and head ruffles.
“You ever think about living somewhere a little less isolated?” she asked.
I stared out at the trees. “Tried the city, back when I was in school. Didn’t like it, much.”
“I thought you were homeschooled?”
“This was later. When I was a teenager.”
I was going to leave it there. But I could feel her listening and she was so damn good at it, so patient and calming, that all the stuff that normally stayed locked up safe in the depths of my mind started slipping out. “I went to a school in the city for a little while. A big school, in a lousy area. Everything was concrete and it smelled bad.” I looked down at my oversize body. “And the desks were too small, I always felt clumsy. I was this big dumb kid from the country. I knew how to hunt deer and how to find wild mushrooms, not...which bands were cool. The other guys thought I was weird. The girls, even more. Everybody called me Bigfoot.”
She stood up and put a hand on my shoulder, cool and gentle. “You’re not dumb,” she said fiercely. “Or weird.” She looked around at the forest. “You were just out of place, there.”
The memories bubbled up, but where they’d normally catch and stick painfully in my chest, now they just seemed to escape, like her hand on my shoulder was making them as insubstantial as ghosts. I still didn’t want to talk about this stuff, but getting it out actually felt good. “Everything was so busy, and there were no animals. I tried to find some parts of the city with some green, where there might be some birds, some squirrels, but when I went off on my own, just for a little walk, like...three or four hours, my aunt freaked out.”
I suddenly realized I’d said too much. I went quiet and hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it, but this was Bethany: she was good with people. She left it a moment, and then gently asked, “Why were you living with your aunt?”
Dammit. I shook my head and stood up. “We should get going.”
“Cal,” she said softly. “Cal, I’m sorry….”
I nodded quickly to let her know that it was fine, then picked up the pace. I figured if we got busy walking, there wouldn’t be time to talk. I could feel her watching me, concerned, as she trailed along behind me. I moved even faster.
I slipped under some overhanging branches and—
A big, dark shape, no more than ten feet ahead of me, its rump covered in thick, dark fur.
I had time to think fuck. And then it heard me and turned to face me. A grizzly bear the size of a small car. And shit, I could see a cub. I’d startled a mama bear. I’d done what even the dumbest hiker knows not to do in an area with bears: I’d moved too fast, too silently, so she’d had no warning. All because I’d been so determined not to talk.
“Get back!” I yelled, already trying to back up. But the branches I’d ducked under slapped the back of my head and I had to awkwardly shuffle under them—
And then the bear gave a long, bellowing roar that I felt in my chest...and charged towards me.
24
Bethany
I HEARD CAL yell to get back and I backed up as quickly as I could, but then he was racing back towards me and—
Oh Jesus.
It was huge but it moved with terrifying speed. It came thundering out of the trees and I could feel the weight of it in the way the ground shook. Cal dodged to the side, waving his arms, and I realized he was making sure it followed him, not me. The bear turned to face him, lowered its head and roared. I had to slap my hands over my ears, it was so loud. What the hell are we going to do? This thing could kill us in the blink of an eye.
It lunged towards Cal and I caught a glimpse of long, curving teeth. Cal brought his arm up to protect his face and the jaws snapped closed—oh Jesus, it had hold of his shirt, and now it was shaking him like a doll with its jaws, trying to knock him off his feet so it could tear at him. Cal was grunting, trying to break free, but even he was no match for the bear’s strength. He staggered...and went down. The bear’s body blocked him from view but I could see it slashing with its claws—
He was dead unless I did something.
“HEY!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “HEY!” The bear didn’t turn around. But then I circled to the left, towards where the bear had come from….
That got its attention. It let go of Cal and turned to face me, then gave another of those ear-splitting roars. I froze. Now what?!
“Bethany!” Cal, from somewhere behind the bear. His voice was ragged: was he just scared for me, or was he hurt? “Don’t run!” he yelled. “Play dead!”
I took an instinctive step back. Every nerve was telling me to bolt, to get away. Play dead?! Just lie down and let it bite and claw at me?!
The bear lunged forward, close enough for me to feel the heat of its breath.
“Play dead!” yelled Cal again. I could hear the raw terror in his vo
ice.
The bear opened its jaws—
I threw myself to the ground and lay face-down in the dirt, eyes closed.
I heard the bear’s heavy breaths and then the ground shook with each thump of its paws as it came closer. Oh God—
I felt fur brush my bare hand. It was right up against me.
Then a hot waft of air on the back of my neck. It must have its head down, jaws open, right over my head and neck, deciding whether to bite. Something warm and wet plopped onto my ear and I tried not to twitch.
A growl and a tug on my hip and I was rolled with terrifying ease. I tried to keep everything loose and floppy. One of my arms actually brushed warm fur as I was flipped onto my back. Keep your eyes closed, keep your eyes closed—
Warm breath against my chest. My neck. My face. A wet nose brushed my cheek. Then it nudged me, testing me. I tried to stay ragdoll-limp. Tried not to imagine those jaws snapping, my skull crumpling—
The wet nose found my ear and snuffled. I forced myself to keep still.
And then the ground shook again as it lumbered away.
I lay there not daring to move. I couldn’t hear its footsteps anymore, but the wind was rustling the trees and I couldn’t tell if it had wandered off into the forest or if it was just standing silently ten feet away. If it was safe, why hadn’t Cal come? He must be playing dead, too, and it wasn’t time to come out yet. I’d just have to wait until he gave the all-clear.
Then my stomach knotted. There was another possibility. What if he was hurt? I’d lost sight of him, when the bear attacked him. I’d heard his voice but it had been strained, ragged...what if he’d been clawed in the neck or the chest? What if he was bleeding out and I was lying there not helping him, scared of a bear that had long gone?
What do I do?!
I lay there motionless, the sun soaking through my closed lids, the breeze on my face. I strained my ears but I couldn’t hear anything. I had to help him, even if it was risky.
I opened my eyes just as a huge form loomed into my vision. I flinched and cried out in panic—
Cal grabbed my shoulders. “It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s gone.”
I stared up at him, unable to speak. Then I grabbed hold of him and pulled myself to him, burying my face in his chest.
25
Cal
I’D BEEN SO SCARED. She’d been lying so still, as I approached. Had the bear shaken her, and snapped her neck? Then she opened her eyes and my heart just lifted. And then she threw her arms around me and lifted herself off the ground, crushing herself to me, and—
I melted. I wrapped my arms around her, wanting to never let her go. God, we’d come so close! My heart was still pounding. And I could feel the hot dampness of her tears soaking through my shirt. I nearly lost her. All because I hadn’t wanted to talk.
I tightened my arms around her.
She suddenly drew her head back. “R—Rufus!” she spluttered through her tears. “Where’s—”
“Rufus!” I called. A few seconds later, he appeared through the trees and bounded over to us. Bethany freed one arm and stroked Rufus, reassuring herself that he was okay. “I’ve trained him,” I told her. “He knows to lie low, if he sees a bear.”
“I thought—” She looked up at me, eyes still full of tears. “I thought you—” She reached up and touched my arm. One whole sleeve of my shirt, from the elbow to the wrist, was shredded where the bear had caught it with its teeth. “Oh God.”
She’d started shaking and that scared me because I had no clue how to deal with it. I wasn’t used to having anyone to comfort. “It’s okay,” I told her. “It’s okay.” And I clutched her close, closed my eyes, and just held her, and that seemed to work. Gradually, our breathing slowed. I was in an awkward position, knelt beside her with my upper body twisted, supporting her weight...and it felt so right, no force on earth could have moved me. We stayed there for a long time.
When we eventually unwound and got to our feet, she looked down at my chest and her eyes went big. “Cal!”
I looked down. The front of my t-shirt was stained red. I hadn’t even felt it at the time, but the bear must have just caught me with her claws. I peeled the cotton away and looked down: yep, three red lines slashed across my left pec. “Not deep,” I told her. “I’ll be okay.” I looked at her. “You could have been killed. You know it was crazy, what you did?” I tried to be gruff, because I needed to make sure she never did anything like that again. But one look in those big brown eyes and I just melted all over again. “And brave,” I allowed. Then, “Thank you.”
She looked away, embarrassed. But when she looked back at me, I was still gazing at her. I mean it.
She reluctantly nodded. And then we were caught, trapped in each other’s eyes. The forest seemed to go quiet around us. I felt us start to move, so gradually it was almost imperceptible, both of us leaning closer—
I caught myself just in time and stopped, my heart thumping.
She stopped, too. “Those scratches need to be cleaned,” she told me, all brisk and business. “Sit down.”
I sat down on a log and took off my shirt and t-shirt, and she got the first aid kit from my backpack and went to work.
I sat there silently watching her for a few minutes. She was leaning close to my bare chest, her face only inches from my body, her long black hair thrown back over her shoulder so that it didn’t get in her way. Those soft brown eyes were laser-focused on what she was doing and it was a rare opportunity to just gaze at her without getting caught doing it.
Her lashes were so long and those lips, the way she nibbled at the lower one when she was concentrating…. I felt like I had when I’d seen that deer in the forest, on our hike to the smallholding. Like I was lucky, like I was seeing something truly special. I felt that pull again. It would be so easy to just reach down and take her under the chin, tilt her head up to look at me and—
I looked away before I did something stupid. “You always want to be a doctor?” I muttered.
“My mom is a physiotherapist,” she told me. “Her mom was a pediatrician. Her mom was a nurse, during the war. It’s what we do. Instinct, or something.”
Instinct. She just wanted to help people. She’d helped Rufus, she’d tried to help me. And I’d clammed up and pushed her away...and nearly lost her.
Before I knew what was happening, I was speaking.
“I used to dream about the city,” I said. “Not any particular city, just the city. Someplace with skyscrapers and sports cars and everything made of concrete and glass. All I’d ever seen was the local town, and that was no bigger than Marten Valley. I used to lie in my room, when I’d done all my chores, and just think about city life: the parties and the technology and the cars and the w—” I cut myself off before I said women. “I begged my dad for a trip to the city,” I told her. “Finally, for my fifteenth birthday, he says we’re going to Seattle. We’ll do all the tourist stuff, have a meal, and stop in to visit with my mom’s sister, who’s just moved there from Europe.”
Bethany was looking up at me in shock. In the whole two weeks we’d been together, this was the most I’d said in one go. This was stuff I’d buried deep, long ago, and it hurt, coming out. But it was nothing, compared to the fear I’d felt when I’d seen her in danger.
“For weeks, I can’t think of anything else,” I said. “The day comes and I’m sitting there next to my dad in the pickup, craning forward in my seat, watching the city get bigger and bigger on the horizon. Then we’re moving through it and it’s crazy...so many buildings, so many cars. Pretty much the only cars I’d ever seen were pickups and station wagons and now suddenly there were stretch limos and sports cars: a Porsche drives by right next to us, bright blue, and my dad was laughing because my jaw was on the floor. I’m hunkered down in my seat, trying to see the tops of the skyscrapers.”
Bethany had started working on my wounds again but her hands moved slowly as she listened. There was something about her that was so calming...
it eased the tightness in my chest, allowing the words to flow.
“We spend all day looking around. Everywhere I look, there are reflections and technology, big animated signs, beautiful people. My dad starts saying we should head home—it’s a long drive back. But I keep asking to stay one more hour. Night falls and the whole city lights up. I’m standing there gaping at billboards and restaurants, theaters covered in millions of little lights. It’s incredible.” My voice caught. “I want to do everything. I want to get one of those coffees everybody’s carrying, in the huge cups with the whipped cream on top. I want to ride an elevator up to the top of one of the skyscrapers. I want to go to one of the clubs with the music pumping out of it.”
“And then…” I slowed. Stumbled. “We hear a...scream. A woman’s scream. From an alley just a few steps from where we are. We look at each other and then look around. There were no cops on the street and the other people walking past….they don’t stop. They just give this worried look and keep on walking. And suddenly, the city doesn’t seem exciting.” My voice went cold. “It just feels scary as hell.”
Bethany had stopped dressing my wounds. She looked up at me, her eyes huge.
The memories were jagged, now, razor-sharp. They sliced at me as I dug up each one, and even shaping them into words was painful.
“My dad says to me, stay here. And then he’s gone, running into the alley. Because that’s just who he is. And I strain my ears but there’s traffic going past. I can hear him talking to someone in that voice he does, the one he learned in the Marines, the don’t fucking mess with me voice, but I can’t hear the words. And then…” I stared at my boots. “Then I hear him just...stop. The words are cut off and he just gives this little grunt. And then I’m running into the alley and—”
Deep Woods Page 10
