Aspen in Moonlight

by Kelly Wacker

  Melissa turned, pepper spray in hand, and witnessed the dark form of a bear. It stood still, perched on a downed tree, and stared at them with an intensity that was almost palpable. It was unlike any of the black bears she had seen in pictures or videos. Her heart pounded, and she felt like she’d just received an electric shock. This bear was massive, with dark-brown fur and a lighter face and muzzle. Broad, long-legged, and high-shouldered, it lowered its head and fixed its gaze on Melissa. The bear’s warm golden eyes, glinting in the sunlight, bore into her. She froze, aware she was in extreme danger. The bear became agitated and began swaying its head from side to side, blowing air through its nostrils and making throaty, guttural sounds. Melissa couldn’t look away. It was the most magnificent and beautiful thing she had ever seen. Fear competed with awe.

  “It’s a goddamn grizzly,” Kerry said in a low voice.

  “There are no grizzlies here.” Melissa repeated what Sula had told her.

  The bear huffed loudly and pounced forward, landing on its front feet. Kerry shuddered. “That’s no black bear. Trust me. Shit. The deer…the deer…it thinks we’re competitors for the carcass.”

  “Hey, bear,” Melissa said in a calm, but firm voice, employing the bear-safety strategy she had recently learned, and stepped sideways.

  The bear responded with another guttural huff. Fixing its gaze on Kerry, it moved quickly forward and stopped abruptly, a bluff charge.

  Kerry jerked in response, almost falling over backward. “Use the spray!”

  The bear snorted and clacked its teeth.

  “Stay calm,” Melissa said, keeping her eye on the big bear. Movement in her peripheral vision prompted her to glance over at Kerry. She had raised her shirt and was pulling a black handgun from a holster tucked inside her pants.

  “What are you—”

  The bear charged, closing the gap between them. Melissa flinched, and, as a cloud of pepper spray jettisoned forward, two shots rang out in rapid succession. Kerry yelled and coughed. The bear let out a terrible sound of anguish and stumbled, falling to the ground.

  “Oh, my God, you sprayed me!” She wiped at her face and raised her gun again, pointing it blindly at the bear, who was writhing on the ground in front of them.

  “No!” Melissa said without thinking and sprayed Kerry again, this time intentionally.

  Kerry coughed and sputtered. She went down on her hands and knees, retching. But it was nothing in comparison to the sounds the bear was making. Melissa shifted her gaze to the bear. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or perhaps she was going into shock, but she couldn’t focus on the animal. It was the strangest thing. Everything else was clear—the sun shining through the needles on the branches of the trees, the dappled light on the rocks, the dusty ground. But the bear was strangely indistinct. She watched with horror as the animal heaved and rippled. It uttered sounds that chilled her to the bone, and she wondered if she was hearing what peopled called the death rattle. Was she watching this animal die? Kerry groaned and coughed, yet Melissa’s only concern was for the bear.

  She walked toward it, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. Head tucked, it lay facing the ground with one front leg folded under its chest and the other extended with the massive dark paw turned up, revealing thick black pads and the tips of curved claws. Not only was it out of focus, but its shape was changing. It seemed to be growing smaller and was losing its fur, which wasn’t falling out; it was just disappearing, like a drawing being erased. The shape of its face was shifting, too, its snout shortening. The anguished sounds intensified, causing her ears to ring. Melissa kneeled, reaching out to the pitiful creature, as if touching it would confirm that what she was seeing was real and not some kind of hallucination. When her fingertips made contact, the pads of its toes felt hot and prickly, almost as if an electric current were passing between them.

  “Don’t touch me,” the bear said thickly. Its voice was unmistakably Sula’s.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Melissa snatched her hand back. “Sula?”

  The dark form of the creature on the ground in front of her coalesced into something more human than bear and recognizably like Sula. What she beheld made absolutely no sense. She had no rational explanation for what she was witnessing, but right now none of that mattered. There was no more bear, only Sula sprawled facedown on the ground, naked and bleeding. She responded instinctively. She rolled Sula on to her side and put her hand on her cheek.

  Sula opened her eyes, but unable to focus on Melissa, she mumbled incoherently. The flesh along the side of her ribs was jagged and torn, as if one of the bullets had grazed her. Two nearly perfect round holes penetrated either side of her upper arm, entrance and exit wounds from the second bullet, Melissa guessed. They bled profusely, bright-red blood pooling and rolling across her skin. Melissa took off her backpack and searched it for a bandana. Finding it, she wrapped it tightly around Sula’s arm, tying the corners in a knot to hold it in place and hoping the pressure would help slow the bleeding.

  “Is that Sula?” Kerry sat on the ground, still coughing, her face blotchy red and her eyes puffy. Saliva dripped from her chin, and vomit mixed with the blood stain on her shirt. “How can that be Sula? I shot a bear.”

  “Melissa,” Sula said slowly, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were the same amber color as the bear’s just a few minutes ago. Melissa’s mind faltered.

  “I shot a bear,” Kerry said again, raising her voice like a petulant child. “A grizzly bear!”

  “Kerry, shut up.” Melissa maintained eye contact with Sula. “I need to get you to a hospital, Sula. Do you think you can stand? I don’t think I can carry you.”

  Seeming to come out of a stupor, she nodded and grunted.

  Melissa stood, and avoiding touching the raw flesh along her ribs or her wounded arm, she helped her into a standing position.

  “Melissa—”

  “Hospital, Sula.” Melissa had only one goal in mind, and she could focus just on that single thing. If she let her mind think about other things, she’d lose it. “Let’s get you to the hospital. Here, lean on me. Put your arm over my shoulder.” Melissa wrapped her arm around Sula’s waist, steadying her and taking some of the weight off her feet. Sula stumbled but took a halting step forward and then another. “The car’s not far. Just keep walking with me.”

  They shuffled past Kerry, who seemed disinclined to get up. Melissa didn’t care if she stayed there. In fact, she preferred it. As they continued down the path, Kerry said repeatedly that she had shot a bear.

  The drive to the local hospital in Buckhorn seemed to take forever. Sula, wrapped in the picnic blanket with a silver emergency Mylar sheet over the top, was obviously in pain. Every sharp curve and bump in the road caused her to gasp, and she looked pallid. Melissa focused on driving as carefully and smoothly as she could manage. Keeping her mind on that task and monitoring Sula with quick glances helped keep her from replaying what she had just witnessed by the lake.

  She pulled under the covered emergency room entrance at the hospital and told Sula not to move while she went inside. Stepping through the sliding doors into the harsh fluorescent light of the hospital disoriented her. She must have looked it, too, as a nurse, a young, dark-haired woman, immediately asked if she needed help. As soon as she used the word gunshot in explaining Sula’s condition, a young man in scrubs ran out to her car, followed quickly by two orderlies pushing a gurney. The nurse put her hand gently but firmly on Melissa’s elbow and guided her to an examination area, explaining that she needed to make sure she was okay. A second nurse, an older woman with wavy red hair and wielding a clipboard, joined them, requesting her identification and insurance cards, and asked her a lot of questions. The brunette nurse directed her to sit on the bed and attached an automated blood-pressure cuff to her arm. Her ID card dangled in front of her: Courtney Stone, RN. As the machine hummed and the cuff tightened, Nurse Stone examined her, looking for bullet holes, no doubt, while Melissa tried her best to answer the ques
tions being asked by the redheaded nurse.

  “Your blood pressure and respiration rate are a little high,” Nurse Stone said.

  “I just saw someone shoot my girlfriend.” Melissa didn’t add the part about her girlfriend also being a bear. A bear who transformed into a woman. All this attention on her made her feel like she was being sidetracked from the reason she was here. “Is Sula okay?”

  “I can’t answer that for you right now,” said the redheaded nurse standing at the foot of the bed. “But I’ll see if I can find something out.” She peered over the shoulder of Nurse Stone at the computer monitor. “You can rest here until things get back to normal.” She patted Melissa’s leg and left the room.

  Things were never going to get back to normal, not after today. While Nurse Stone quietly worked on the computer, Melissa leaned back against the pillow and stared at the holes in the ceiling tile above the bed, as if focusing on them could somehow anchor her and prevent her mind from swirling. After several minutes, it was clear her strategy wasn’t working. She lifted her head when the curtain was drawn back, expecting the redheaded nurse with news of Sula. Instead it was a handsome, dark-haired, mustachioed police officer. He nodded at her when they made eye contact.

  “Hello, Miss Warren…Dr. Warren. I’m Officer Martinez, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” He stood at the foot of the bed, holding a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other, seemingly ready to take notes. He looked her directly in the eye.

  Melissa glanced at his name tag—L. Martinez—pinned above the pocket of his shirt, opposite his shiny silver badge. Sula had mentioned an officer named Lee Martinez, the one who called her Smokey, and talked about him more like a friend than a business acquaintance.

  “Yes, of course.” Knowing that Sula respected him made her feel more comfortable, but still…how was she going to describe what had just happened without explaining the giant bear that had appeared and turned into Sula? She’d end up in a psychiatric ward, for sure. “I’m sorry, but could I have some water first?”

  “I’ll get you some,” Nurse Stone said and left.

  Officer Martinez stared at the floor and chewed on the edge of his mustache. Melissa closed her eyes and put her head back on the pillow. While the nurse was gone, Melissa realized that she could tell the story exactly how it happened, but just not mention anything about a bear. The nurse returned with a large cup full of ice water and a warm blanket that she draped across her. It felt surprisingly good. She took a deep drink, sucking the cold water through the straw, draining half the cup.

  “Do you know who shot Sula Johansen?” Officer Martinez asked.

  “Yes, I do. It was Kerry MacArthur. She used to work for the Buckhorn Creek Ranch. I’m staying there, so that’s how I know her.”

  Officer Martinez raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly as he wrote in his notebook. “And can you tell me how it happened?”

  “I can.” Melissa took another sip of water, a deep breath, and described how her plans for a romantic picnic had gone terribly awry. Like a good student, Officer Martinez took notes while she talked. “So, as I said, Kerry was making me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Describe what you mean by ‘uncomfortable.’”

  “She kept touching me and tried to kiss me. I told her to stop and she wouldn’t.”

  “That’s when you pulled out the bear spray.”

  “Yes…I really just wanted her to back off, to leave me alone, I didn’t intend to actually spray her. But then Sula showed up unexpectedly—she jumped over a big log—and I guess it startled Kerry. She drew a gun—”

  “What kind of gun?”

  “A handgun.”

  “You didn’t know she had a firearm?”

  “No. It was under her shirt. She pulled the gun, and I guess I flinched. I sprayed her accidentally.” Melissa paused and considered the fact she was talking to a police officer. “The first time.”

  “You sprayed her more than once?” Officer Martinez’s mustache twitched almost imperceptibly.

  “The second time was on purpose because I thought she was going to shoot Sula again.” Melissa took another drink of water, sucking it through the straw, watching as he wrote everything down.

  “How many shots were fired?”

  “Two, one right after the other.”

  “Did Ms. MacArthur fire the gun before or after you sprayed her?”

  Melissa chewed on her lower lip and shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure, it might have happened at the same time. It’s all a blur.”

  A call came in on the officer’s radio, and he put a finger up, cueing her to pause while he cocked his head, listening to the message. He put his hand on the radio mic draped over his shoulder, turned his head, and replied quickly in coded police jargon. “I’m sorry. Please continue, Dr. Warren.”

  “Well, that’s about it, really. Kerry fired twice, Sula went down, I pepper-sprayed Kerry again, and then I got Sula to the car and drove her here to the hospital.”

  “And you said you left Ms. MacArthur at the lake.”

  “Yes, she was sitting on the ground. She seemed okay, but—”

  “But what?” Officer Martinez looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “She kept saying she shot a bear and that she couldn’t believe it was Sula.” Melissa shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “Honestly, I was more concerned about getting Sula to the car.”

  “Is there anything else you think I should know?”

  “No. Not that I can think of right now.”

  “All right,” he said, making a few more notes. “That’ll be all for now.” He flipped his notebook closed and clicked his pen, slipping both into his shirt pocket, then pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Can you come by the department anytime tomorrow and give us a written statement? If you think of anything between now and then, you can add it.”

  “Sure.” Melissa stared at the card in her hand, feeling the gravity of being a witness.

  “You take care,” Officer Martinez nodded and left Melissa alone in the room. She watched the clock and listened to the activity and conversations happening on the other side of the curtain. Not sure who else to contact, she pulled out her cell phone and sent a message to Betty, telling her that Sula had been shot and was at the hospital. She was relieved when the nurse finally returned with an ER physician, who asked her the questions she’d already answered and looked over the notes the nurse had made.

  “Your vitals are improved. Unless you have any complaints,” the doctor said with a smile, “I think you’re good to go.”

  “I’m good,” Melissa said, though she wasn’t entirely sure about that.

  The doctor signed her release forms, and the nurse handed her the discharge papers.

  “What about Sula?” Melissa asked. The red-haired nurse had never come back with information about her.

  “Oh…” the nurse said. “Why don’t you have a seat in the waiting area, and I’ll see what I can find out.”

  That was the second time she’d heard that promise, but not knowing what else to do, Melissa went to the almost-empty waiting area. It seemed to be a slow day in Buckhorn. The room was cold, and she wished she still had the warm blanket. When the automatic doors swooshed open, Melissa looked up to see Betty walk in and waved to her. She strode over with a look of deep concern.

  “What happened to Sula?”

  Melissa opened her mouth to speak but wasn’t sure where to begin. “Kerry shot Sula.”

  “Kerry MacArthur? Is Sula okay?”

  “I think so?” Melissa felt tears well, and her throat constricted, the emotion she had kept under tight control spilling over. “I don’t know. I don’t really understand anything.”

  Betty stood in front of her, hands on hips, frowning, as the doors opened and a voice they both recognized filled the waiting room. They turned to see Kerry, wide-eyed and yelling. She was handcuffed and flanked by two police officers.

  “I shot a bear! A bear! She was
a bear! Sula was a bear!” Kerry saw them across the room and lunged toward Melissa. “Melissa! Tell them!” The officers hooked her elbows and dragged her back to the admitting desk. “I shot a bear!”

  Lee Martinez trailed behind Kerry and the other officers. After watching Kerry’s outburst, he walked over to Melissa and Betty. He glanced over at Kerry with a sad expression. She looked a mess, her hair coming out of her usually neat braid and still dressed in her soiled camouflage outfit. “She’s angling for a psychiatric evaluation.”

  Melissa leaned forward, putting her head in her hands and groaned. “Can you make that two?”

  “Excuse me?” Martinez said.

  “Nothing,” Betty said, putting her hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of this, Lee.”

  “She’s had a rough day,” Officer Martinez said, gesturing to Melissa, his tone sympathetic. “If you need anything, Betty, you let me know.”

  “I will, Lee,” Betty said in a confident voice. “Thank you.”

  After he left, Betty sat next to her, putting her hand on her knee. “Melissa, honey. I need you to tell me what happened. And you’ve got to keep it together, okay?”

  “Okay,” Melissa said, sniffling.

  Betty glanced around, seeming to survey the room. The only other people in the waiting area were on the other side, near a television they were watching. “So, what happened?”

  After just having given a full—well, almost complete report to the officer, Melissa didn’t feel up for describing the details again. She tried to explain as concisely as she could. “Sula went for a hike early this morning. She’s been looking for signs of that mountain lion, and I knew she was going to Moose Lake, but she didn’t want me to go with her. I planned a picnic and drove up there, intending to wait there and surprise her. But when I arrived, Kerry was there. I don’t know what she was doing, but I think she might have been poaching. There was a dead deer.”

  “A dead deer?” Betty repeated her words, looking confused.