Touching Spirit Bear

by Ben Mikaelsen

  Cole grimaced as he looked at the rock in his arms. He didn’t want to spend his life in a jail cell. He hugged the rock tightly to his chest. What a fool he had been. Things could be different.

  At the top of the hill, Cole lowered the rock gently to the ground and stood without pushing it. He couldn’t stop wondering why he had been born and thinking about all the twisted events that had brought him to this moment. It seemed a bizarre dream to be standing alone on this rocky hillside in Alaska with a round stone at his feet, his mind filled with thoughts so totally different from anything he’d known running around on the streets back in Minneapolis. He felt like a new and a different person.

  Slowly Cole let go of his ancestors and allowed the stone to become his anger. He knew that he had to quit blaming others, including his father, for his problems. As long as blame still existed, so would his anger. He had to let go, the same way he let go of this rock. With that thought, Cole sank to his knees and placed both hands against the rock. With a grunt, he shoved it down the slope.

  As the rock tumbled faster and faster, Cole felt his body growing lighter, and when the rock smashed to a stop at the bottom, he felt as if he could fly. Now it was time to go back to camp and talk to Garvey and Edwin.

  Cole started down, looking ahead toward the pond. A movement caught his attention, and he spotted a large white shape disappearing into the tall trees below.

  CHAPTER 20

  COLE’S HEART POUNDED. Had he just seen the Spirit Bear? What else on the island could be that big and white? As he scrambled down the rocky slope, his thoughts raced. Did he dare tell Edwin and Garvey he had seen the Spirit Bear? They were already mad at him and would just think he was making up another story.

  Back at camp, Edwin and Garvey sat beside a blazing fire, sipping cups of hot coffee. Neither spoke as Cole approached and pulled up a chunk of driftwood to sit on. After an awkward silence, Cole knew he had to say something. “I know that saying I’m sorry about my attitude isn’t enough, but I want you to know that I am sorry.” He paused. “When I was carrying the rock this morning, I realized that I won’t ever get over my anger unless I quit blaming others for everything.

  That’s why I got mad the last two days. I was still blaming you guys.”

  Edwin and Garvey exchanged glances. “So what made this morning any different?” Garvey asked.

  Cole bit at his lip. “I just realized that I’m not a bad person. Nobody is,” he said. “People are just scared and do bad things. Sometimes people hurt each other trying to figure things out.” Cole gazed into the flames. “I hate what Dad does to me, but he must be just as scared as I am. He doesn’t want to be mean; he just doesn’t know any better.”

  “I’m glad you can see that,” Edwin said. “But how do we know this isn’t just another con job? Do you really expect us to believe you’ve changed?”

  “It doesn’t matter if you do,” Cole said. “I’ll be okay even if you take me back to Minneapolis.” As he spoke, he noticed the plastic tarp had blown off his wood stack, so he walked over and tucked it back around the pile.

  “If you’re headed back to Minneapolis, why are you covering up the wood?” Edwin asked.

  Cole allowed a smile. “Just in case you change your mind.”

  Edwin motioned toward the shelter. “Well, just in case, you better finish the cabin.”

  Cole wanted to tell them more about what he had learned that morning. Instead, he blurted, “Thanks,” then rushed over to continue work on the shelter.

  “Doesn’t matter, my foot,” muttered Edwin.

  Grinning, Cole pulled on his tennis shoes and gloves, and picked up his hammer. He worked hard all day. By dusk, he had finished the roof and framed in the single window. He also made a heavy door and mounted it with metal strap hinges. For the door handle, he screwed on a deer antler he found near the stream. He cut a hole through the door so the dead bolt could be locked from both sides. All that remained was to install the small barrel stove.

  Glowing with satisfaction, Cole stood back to admire his new shelter. “So what do you think?” he asked.

  Edwin and Garvey left their seats by the fire and walked around the small cabin, inspecting it.

  “You’ll need to keep a clean kitchen,” Garvey said. “A determined grizzly doesn’t need an open door to get in.”

  “And you’ll need to do some caulking to tighten things up before winter,” Garvey said.

  “I know, but did I build a good cabin?” Cole asked eagerly.

  Edwin and Garvey both smiled. “Not bad for someone who didn’t care whether or not he stayed.” Garvey winked.

  “Shouldn’t fall down,” Edwin allowed. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to run the stovepipe through the roof, and then we’ll be leaving. You’ll have the whole summer to build furniture.”

  Cole’s body ached with weariness, and he stifled yawns as he prepared supper. Since this was the last meal with Edwin and Garvey, he fixed an extra good one. He boiled spaghetti, then fried onions and peppers to add in. While the sauce was simmering, he mixed some biscuits. A scrap of roofing tin propped up near the fire acted as a stove and baked the biscuits with its hot reflection.

  “Where did you learn that trick?” Garvey asked.

  Cole shrugged. “Just figured it might work.” He brought over a leftover chunk of plywood and set it on stumps to make a low table. Trying to think what else he could do to make the meal special, Cole went to his duffel bag in the tent. He dug to the bottom and found the at.óow. He returned and spread the colorful blanket across the plywood like a tablecloth. Last, he rummaged through the supplies until he found a candle to place in the middle of the low table. “Grub’s up!” he announced. “We’re having a feast.”

  Throughout the meal, the cold breeze kept blowing the candle out. Finally, Cole went to the cabin and brought back the glass mantel from his lantern and placed it over the candle. “This feast needs a candle,” he announced.

  When they finished the spaghetti and biscuits, he handed out Snickers bars from the supply boxes. “They aren’t very fancy,” he said. “But they’re my favorite kind. If you eat them slow and close your eyes, you can pretend it’s dessert from some fancy restaurant.”

  “Nothing wrong with this meal,” said Garvey.

  Edwin nodded. “It’s good food. So, tell me, what dance should we dance tonight?”

  “How about the Spirit Bear dance?” Cole said.

  Edwin eyed him quizzically. “Did you see the Spirit Bear today?”

  Cole hesitated before answering. “I saw something big and white disappear into the trees near the pond.”

  “Was it the Spirit Bear?”

  Cole wanted so badly to tell the truth. He nodded.

  “Are you scared of being here alone with the bear after what happened?”

  Cole shook his head. “I’m not scared of the bear, but I am scared of being alone.” He looked at Edwin. “How did you feel when you were here?”

  Edwin looked deep into the flames, his faraway gaze conjuring up memories. “At first, I was so lonely it hurt. But with time, I felt peaceful inside.”

  With no further words, the three of them sat as if in a trance, staring into the flames until darkness fell. Finally Edwin looked up at the dark sky. “It’s a great night for a Spirit Bear dance,” he said to Cole. “You go first?”

  “I need to think about it.”

  Edwin shook his head. “When you dance, it’s your heart and soul speaking. You don’t need to think. If you saw the Spirit Bear, you go first.”

  Hesitantly, Cole stood.

  “In the village when we dance, we always beat a drum,” Edwin said. “Do you want me to keep a rhythm?”

  Cole shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

  Edwin left the fire and returned holding two short chunks of driftwood. He sat down and began striking them together with a hollow knock. Again and again he hit the chunks of wood as if beating a drum. As the rhythm echoed down the shore and out across the water
, Cole began moving. He let the story of his first visit to the island become his dance. Approaching the flames, then fading away into the dark, he appeared and disappeared. Each time he reappeared, he moved closer to the fire as if threatening to attack Edwin and Garvey. He hunched over, his movements ghostlike.

  Then he flung himself to the ground beside the flames, clawing and kicking. In his mind, he relived the mauling. He grabbed at twigs and broke them as if they were bones. Grimacing on the ground, he heard Edwin beating the pieces of driftwood in a hypnotic rhythm. Cole raised his head and spit into the dark; then he pretended to lick up the spit. Last, he reached out as if touching the Spirit Bear. He froze in the touching position for a long moment, then stood and walked proudly off into the dark.

  When Cole returned to the fire, he sat down.

  Edwin handed the chunks of driftwood to Cole. “That was a good dance. Now you keep the rhythm.”

  Awkwardly at first, Cole knocked the pieces of driftwood together the way Edwin had, with a regular beat. It felt like the beating of his heart. Edwin stood and began to dance. He stalked proudly around the fire, sniffing at the air. Slowly, he came up behind Cole and Garvey. When they turned to look at him, he backed away. Again and again he repeated this movement until they no longer turned to look back. Then he came and knelt in front of them. That was how he ended his dance.

  Cole kept striking the wood together for Garvey as he stood for his turn. Garvey started his dance lying on the ground as if he were asleep by the fire, then slowly awoke and sat up. He rubbed his stomach and licked his lips to show his hunger. Then he rose and moved around the flames, eating berries off imaginary bushes and catching fish from an imaginary stream. After several minutes, he stuck out his belly and scratched at it to show he was full.

  Cole couldn’t help but smile at his parole officer. This was the same man he had hated back in Minnesota. How could he have ever hated him?

  Garvey spun around as if in surprise and gazed back at Edwin and Cole. He began prowling back and forth, back and forth, moving closer. He looked at Cole and placed a finger to his lips. Cole stopped drumming. In silence Garvey moved forward until he stopped less than a foot away. He crouched silently as if to touch his toes, then…“Boo!” he shouted, springing up, arms extended.

  Edwin’s stump tipped over, and he fell backward in surprise. Cole nearly choked catching his breath. Garvey laughed harder and harder until tears rolled down his cheeks. “Dances don’t always have to be serious,” he said. “Dances can be fun, too. Or they can be celebrations.”

  “You turkey!” Cole said, laughing himself. When he regained his composure, he grinned. “I understood both of your dances.”

  “And we understood yours, too,” Garvey said.

  Once more the three sat staring into the flames, each lost in thought. Finally Edwin stood. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow begins a new journey.”

  When Cole arose the next morning to go to the pond, so did Edwin and Garvey. “Mind if we go with you?” Garvey asked, as if he needed permission.

  “That’d be great,” said Cole.

  Together the three headed out single file in the gathering dawn. Although this was only his fourth trip to the pond, Cole proudly led the way. When they arrived, he didn’t hesitate. He stripped off his clothes and waded directly into the cold water. He found that by breathing deeply, he avoided gasping as the water rose around his chest.

  He had already reached the rocks when Edwin and Garvey waded in. Edwin showed no reaction as he submerged, but Garvey caught his breath at the cold water. “Now I see why you two can’t wait to get here each morning,” he gasped.

  “It gets easier each time,” Cole said.

  “Too bad I won’t be around to find that out,” Garvey joked.

  The three sat in silence, looking upstream to where the water rushed through the narrow gorge. A cloud of light mist drifted over the river. Cole closed his eyes and ignored the men beside him. It wasn’t the same having others here. Being alone was what made this place so special. Cole breathed deeply, once again feeling the icy numbness creep into his body. He opened his eyes once to see if Edwin and Garvey were ready to leave, then reminded himself that he would leave only when he felt it was time.

  And finally it was time. With a final breath, Cole opened his eyes and slid off the shelf. Edwin and Garvey remained, eyes closed, but Cole felt no obligation to prove anything by waiting for them. When he reached the shore, he toweled off. He was half dressed by the time Edwin and Garvey left the water.

  “So who’s carrying the ancestor rock this morning?” Cole joked.

  Edwin and Garvey eyed him without laughing.

  “I was just joking,” Cole said. “I’ll carry it.”

  By the time they finished climbing the hill and rolling away anger, a bright sun had broken through the clouds. They hiked back to camp laughing and joking as if they were old friends. Nobody ever would have guessed that this morning marked the beginning of Cole’s yearlong banishment.

  Edwin showed Cole how to install the stovepipe through the roof, and then he and Garvey prepared to leave. They took down their tent and loaded their belongings into the boat. Still they joked and kidded lightheartedly. When all was finally ready, the joking stopped. Garvey pulled out a small package and presented it to Cole.

  Cole opened it to find a large hunting knife in a leather sheath. “Thanks,” he said.

  “That knife is like life,” Garvey said. “It can destroy you or help you heal.”

  “How can a knife help me heal?” Cole asked.

  “Use it to carve. If you discover what lies inside the wood, you’ll discover what’s inside of you. It helps you to heal.”

  “But you can never heal completely until you discover one thing,” Edwin said thoughtfully.

  “What’s that?”

  Edwin allowed a rare smile. “If I tell, you can’t discover it.”

  As Edwin and Garvey crawled into the aluminum skiff, Cole called, “Don’t forget to put the spark plug back in.”

  “It’s been back in for two days,” Edwin said, giving the starter rope a sharp pull. As the motor roared to life, Cole helped push the bow off the rocks. “I’ll be out to check on you in a few days,” Edwin shouted.

  “I’ll be okay,” Cole shouted back, wishing he believed his own words. He watched the small boat until it disappeared from view. Standing alone on the shoreline, he couldn’t help but remember how angry he had been the last time he watched the skiff leave. This time he felt only fear, and he admitted it. His palms were sweaty, and his throat tightened. If he screwed things up this time, there would be no next time.

  CHAPTER 21

  COLE DROVE HIMSELF hard after Edwin and Garvey left, staying busy every waking minute of each day. If he had to spend a whole year on this island, he had no intention of living like an animal. Each morning, he soaked in the pond and carried the ancestor rock. Afternoons, he worked improving camp. At night, he slept like the dead.

  By the time Edwin visited next, Cole had built a table, a chair, and a bed frame for an old foam mattress that was part of his supplies. He made the furniture from driftwood, nails, and scraps left over from the cabin. He also started collecting armloads of firewood, cutting and splitting the wood with a small handsaw and hatchet, and stacking it in a straight pile against the cabin.

  Over the top, he placed strips of leftover plywood and a tarp. For a bathroom, he dug a big hole up among the trees. When the hole filled, he would cover it with dirt and dig a new one. He didn’t look forward to using it in the winter.

  Edwin said little during his first visit. He eyed the pile of firewood and the furniture with approval. “Garvey flew back to Minneapolis,” he said as he crawled into his skiff to leave. “He was plenty worried about you.”

  “If you talk to him,” Cole said, “tell him thanks again for the knife. I’ll carve something special.”

  “What?”

  Cole shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
/>   Edwin started the motor, backed away from the shore, and waved good-bye.

  Cole watched the boat again until it blinked from sight. This time he didn’t feel the desperate loneliness and fear of four days earlier. It would not be easy, but he knew now that he could survive. Instead of returning to the cabin, he headed around the shoreline to hike and think.

  Wandering along the grassy flats above shoreline a mile from camp, he came upon a huge driftwood log. The weathered white log had been worn smooth and was straight as a telephone post. It looked to be well over twenty feet long and almost two feet in diameter. Cole tried to imagine what kind of storm could wash such a big log up a dozen feet above the high-tide mark. He remembered all too well one storm that could have done it.

  As he examined the huge log, an idea came to him. Back in Drake there had been a whole field filled with totem poles. Most had carvings of animals the same as the totem designs on the at.óow. Cole didn’t know what the figures meant, but he wondered if he could carve his own totem. Still he studied the log. There was something else this log would work for. The thought frightened him, and he pushed it out of his head. He would carve a totem, but how could he move the huge piece of wood?

  Cole returned to camp and brought back two lengths of rope. He tied one to each end of the log. By tugging on one at a time, he rolled the log down over the rocks until it slid into the water. When he saw how high the log floated in the water, his mind again toyed with the idea that had scared him earlier. This log would make a great dugout canoe. It would make the perfect escape.

  With the rope, Cole pulled the floating log slowly along the shoreline back to camp, using the last two hours of daylight to push, pull, and wrestle it up over the rocks until it rested near the fire. By the time he finished, it was totally dark.