New Suns

by Nisi Shawl

  When had been the last time she’d seen Joan? Three months ago? No, not since Easter. God—over half a year…

  They weren’t close, were they.

  Marnie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Rolled over to face the cushions of the couch. The scratchy weave of the synthetic fabric smelled a little like day-old socks. Marnie wished she could buy a new couch. She’d had this one for over thirteen years. It was a little disgusting. But who had money for a brand new couch? She rolled onto her back, arms straight at her sides.

  She wondered if she should call in sick on Sunday night. Joanie hadn’t handled the news well and Marnie didn’t feel up to fielding questions from her co-workers at the warehouse. And there’d be plenty during lunch break. Thank god she didn’t have children she’d have to explain to. She and her ex-husband had done at least one thing right after marrying straight out of high school.

  Marnie sighed. What did it mean that none of her friends were fat? Not nothing, that’s for sure, she thought.

  And now Joanie thought she’d betrayed her, and that she’d gotten surgery done in Mexico… Marnie groaned. She should go out and buy some new pants. She didn’t have any clothes that would fit properly for work.

  Oh yah. She was going to call in sick…

  Two tears slid down Marnie’s cheeks. She should be feeling happy. What woman would feel sad that she’d lost her belly fat? For free! No cost, no exercise—it was a dream come true! It was a gift from the universe!

  Why did she feel so sad?

  Marnie dressed in a sweater and a pair of jeans, too big, cinching the waist with a piece of packaging twine through the belt loops, doubled against itself. She didn’t have a proper belt, she hated them so much. Muttering, she gathered the things she needed: keys, jacket, water bottle. She grabbed her backpack and the strap caught against part of the chair. She gave the thing a decisive tug, it dislodged, and she ran out the door.

  MARNIE WAS TIRED and hungry. She’d planned to stop at a Timmy’s along the way, but she hadn’t wanted to drive into the weird suburbs of Whistler, and when she reached Pemberton she learned, to her dismay, that they didn’t even have one. So she stopped at the same gas station to buy a shitty cup of coffee and a packaged ham sandwich. June wasn’t there. The meat in the sandwich had been kinda grey in the middle so Marnie tossed it out… She kept on driving.

  At long last she neared the turn-off for the logging road. A lone dog trotted along the shoulder, going in the opposite direction. Marnie did a double-take. Where had the dog come from? Oh—it was a coyote.

  The coyote didn’t even glance her way. It had serious business somewhere—

  What had she been thinking? Her belly fat was probably long gone. Eaten up by a bear or pecked away by ravens. Nothing fell to the forest floor to be wasted. And it had been a good piece of fat. Delicious for someone, no doubt.

  Marnie couldn’t help but gag a little in her throat.

  She’d stopped pressing the accelerator and her car had come to a complete stop in the middle of a flat stretch of road. Guiltily, she glanced up at her rearview mirror. But the road was empty, just a buckling ripple of air caused by the heat of the sun.

  Marnie shook her head. How had she become so citified that she hadn’t thought of this before she left home? What an embarrassment. She was so embarrassed with herself she wanted to scream.

  “What the fuck!” she shouted.

  Shouting did not make her feel any better.

  Her foot started pushing down on the accelerator once again and the car surged forward. Why was she still driving? She should turn around, and get her fool city-ass back home. Wash her laundry and make sandwiches to freeze for the coming work week.

  But her foot pressed harder and her hands steered, turning the tires up an unmarked gravel road that wound deeper into the coastal mountain range.

  “Okay,” she said, although she didn’t exactly know why. “Okay, might as well take a look, we’re all the way up here anyway.” Maybe she’d find some chanterelles while she was at it.

  When she finally pulled up to the good spot it was early afternoon. If the clouds rolled in she’d have very little daylight left… It was always hard to tell where the weather was coming from inside a forest. Marnie shuffled out of the car and stretched. The air was so sweet she felt like crying. A rapid tok-tok-tok-tok of a woodpecker. The sound, loud and deep. Pileated, she thought, and grabbed her backpack. The familiar jangle of the bear bell did not happen. Marnie turned the pack around. A short piece of string dangled from the strap.

  “Che,” Marnie exhaled. Now she’d have to whistle. She rummaged in the backpack and pulled out her folded knife, tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans. There were no more power bars. She sighed and took a drink from her water bottle. Slung the backpack on and stepped back into the forest to retrace the path she’d taken only the day before.

  The only tune she could think of was the repetitive refrain from the Andy Griffith Show. Unhappily, she whistled it in an infinite loop of whiteness. The horrible sameness of the melody made her nervous. Like someone might come creeping up from behind while she distracted herself with her own inane whistling—

  She spun around. The forest was quiet. Awash in a slant golden light. It was so beautiful her heart clenched with a kind of pain. Fuck it. She hadn’t started using a bear bell until two years ago and she’d never seen a bear in these forests. Did bears even eat mushrooms? Because there were no berries in these woods. She wasn’t going to whistle the ugly tune all day for no reason. She’d only started using the bell because it’d been a Secret Santa gift from work and she kinda thought it might be that adorable worker with a Yorkshire accent. Or Manchurian. No, Manchester. She didn’t fucking know…

  The far-off nasal craw of raven. The staccato chatter of a Douglas squirrel, warning her to keep away from their tree. Marnie settled into a steady pace, the back and forth sweeping gaze as she searched for her lost belly.

  “Belly come back,” she crooned to the melody of that 70s Player song, “Baby Come Back”.

  Something pale flashed in her periphery. She spun towards it. An extra quiver of a leaf still clinging to a low bush. A fallen log with a tumble of branches. There might be a small hollow under there… Did something rustle? Marnie’s breath came shallow, fast. She crouched beside it and tilted her head sideways to see if—

  It burst straight towards her face.

  Marnie bellowed, toppled backwards in a flail of arms. The pale thing, rabbit-sized, leapt past her. Marnie turned her head as she fell, to get a real look, and as the details of what she thought she saw moved through her brain on the slowest of neurons, her face landed on the ground, a twig piercing the fleshiest part of her cheek. She screamed again.

  The pale thing on the ground screamed.

  Marnie scrambled to her feet and the twig that had been stuck in her cheek fell out. The puncture wound throbbed as hot blood began to drip, cool upon her skin.

  Marnie stood, arms rigid at her sides, legs slightly spread.

  Six feet in front of her stood a pale lumpin thing. It had two stumpy legs, and two stumpy arms, the roundness of a head. But it didn’t have a face. Only two indents, where eyes could have been, and dimple of a mouth. On the dark moss tumble of forest floor it glowed as pale as a grub. The soft white texture and its shape made it look like a hanpen starfish…

  All the tiny hairs on Marnie’s spine shivered erect. What the holy hell—

  “Belly?” Marnie croaked. “Bellyfat?”

  The lumpin took a step backward.

  “Bellyfat,” Marnie cajoled, infusing warmth into her voice, “I came back for you.”

  What the FUCK! Marnie’s brain shouted.

  The lumpin jerked, as if electrocuted. It bolted across the forest floor. Running in great leaps, hopping over and under logs as carefree as the Gingerbread Man.

  “Wait!” Marnie cried, as she crashed after it. “Come back!” Deadfall snapped beneath her hiking boots, as she thudded a
fter her fleeing belly. Her cheek throbbed with every pounding step she took. How could her belly fat be faster than her?

  “It makes no sense!” Marnie shouted.

  Bellyfat ran even faster.

  “Don’t be scared!” Marnie panted. She had to stop. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like her intestines were coming out of her gullet. She slumped over at the waist, hands atop her thighs, gasping and heaving. Almost gagging for air. Lord Jesus, she prayed. She felt like vomiting. Jesus, please help me.

  Slowly her dying fish gulps returned to normal breath. She crouched onto her haunches. The moss was still damp from a night rain, but she plopped down on her butt, anyways. Cold wet seeped through her jeans and underwear. She dropped her head onto her raised knees. Her jeans smelled a little like ham sandwich. Her stomach growled, with both hunger and nausea.

  She should just go home. She felt sick. Her belly fat had turned into a small person and had run away from her, so that was that. Marnie had done her due diligence. Or her duty. Whatever obligation one had with one’s belly. She had tried, and that was all that mattered.

  A sense of relief seeped from her chest and spread through her body. She took one long shuddering breath and exhaled slowly. She was allowed to be happy, now.

  She raised her head, eyes bright.

  Six feet in front of her stood Bellyfat. Bellyfat stared at her with indent eyes. Six feet behind Bellyfat stood an enormous adult black bear.

  Marnie’s eyes bulged. Run! her mind shrew screeched.

  Her feet kicked weakly. No strength left in her legs. It was true. What they said. In Japan. Koshiga nukeru. Paralyzed with fear.

  Behind you! Marnie silently mouthed the words at Bellyfat. With exaggerated lip movements. There’s a BEAR!

  Did Bellyfat even understand language, let alone lip read? Could it even see?! She didn’t know! Shut up! The bear must be able to smell the oily richness. While the bear fed on the fat Marnie could crawl away…

  The great beastie snuffled the air with their great snout. Their head weaved from side to side, their small brown eyes staring. At her.

  There was intelligence there. Marnie could see it. Her heart clattered fast and thin. Her breath a whistling wheeze. She quickly dropped her gaze. You shouldn’t stare at animals. Don’t stare at the gorillas, the sign in the zoo had said. It’s a sign of aggression. No, Bear. I’m not staring. I swear.

  Not me, Marnie wished, fervently. I’m small. My flesh is bitter and tired. See! There’s fat. Smell the delicious fat.

  The great bear swung their quivering nostrils toward the pale lumpin on the ground. They opened their mouth, as if sucking in the flavor of the air. A long bead of saliva dangled from their jaws. Hoosh! Hoosh! They drew in huge draughts, then swatted at the moss with massive claws, a great clod of green and humus sailing through the air.

  Bellyfat turned with slow motion gravitas, toward the bear.

  Now, thought Marnie. Now I should run—No! Never run from a bear!

  She remained seated. Sweat trickled from her hairline, down her cheek, to burn salty in the wound on her face. Oh yah, she thought, distantly. I hurt my face…

  She watched Bellyfat tip back its head, back, way back, to take in the enormity of the black bear. The bear’s jaw dropped open, into a long-snouted grin. A long pink tongue. Such teeth.

  Bellyfat quivered.

  Marnie was standing. She didn’t remember doing it. She was on her feet. Her folded knife open. Gripped tight inside her hand, the sharp tip of the blade shivering with fear and adrenaline, pointed at the bear.

  “Odd idea,” Bear said. “Give me the pricking stick.” Bear held out their paw.

  It was true. The knife was not a good idea at all. Bear’s paw was bigger than her head, and the claws massive—thick and deadly. Marnie’s knife was no more useful against the bear than a Bic pen. “I’m sorry,” Marnie said, feeling embarrassed that she’d pointed a knife at the bear. That she hadn’t known they could talk. “May I keep my knife?” she asked in a small voice. “It was a gift from my father… He’s dead now.”

  Bear exhaled, a snorting blast, before lowering their outstretched paw.

  Gratefully, Marnie closed the blade and tucked the knife back into her front pocket.

  Well, she thought. Well, well. A chunk of laughter burst from out of her. Marnie clamped her hand over her mouth. If she started laughing she didn’t know where it would lead her.

  Bellyfat looked from Marnie to the bear, back to Marnie again.

  She cleared her throat. Pain crinkled, then beat a steady metronome inside her cheek. “I’m sorry to have left part of me in the forest.” Marnie gestured toward Bellyfat. “I’ve come back for them, and we will be on our way, now, if we may.”

  Courtesy seemed key, here. Who would try to bully or insult a bear? Make demands? Who could feel so entitled? Marnie bowed, a little. It made more sense than smiling. Baring teeth, for most other mammals, was not a sign of friendliness. Humans were weird. If she made it back to the city she would stop smiling. It was ridiculous. Well, maybe just smile a lot less. Definitely. Smiling was overrated. Especially for women.

  A sob burst out of Marnie’s diaphragm. Had she lost her mind? The bear spoke to her. Her belly fat was a lumpin animate. All she wanted was to pick mushrooms. Was this what the fortune from her fortune cookie meant when it said, “Unexpected events will bring excitement into your life”?

  The bear sat down, on their bum. Like a person. Heavy furred legs in front of them. They lowered their forepaws atop their belly. Bear said, “How long will you hold your breath?”

  Marnie gasped for air. Light burst around her, like sparklers. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out until her dizziness passed. She opened her eyes. The bear was still there, sitting on the ground, and now traitorous Bellyfat sat between the bear’s legs, just like a small child.

  “What. Are. You. Doing!” Marnie hissed through gritted teeth. “Get over here, Right Now!”

  Bellyfat scooched backward until they were pressed against the bear’s autumn-round tummy.

  “I feel the awkwardness between us,” Bear said.

  If Marnie were to describe Bear’s voice she’d say it sounded one octave higher than she would have expected. The pronunciation was completely recognizable, but the bear seemed to gulp at the close of each word, as if trying to stop food from falling out of their prehensile lips.

  “Bellyfat wishes not to go back to you.”

  Marnie’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Bellyfat knows you ran away. Abandoned.” Bear raised their right front paw to scratch their outer thigh. The coarse sound of claws against fur. “Hard to forgive, yes?”

  “I came back, didn’t I?” Marnie said, indignant. She turned to Bellyfat. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to leave you!” Heat and pain prickled in her cheeks. She was lying and she was pretty sure everyone knew it. “How do you even know?” she asked the bear. “Bellyfat can’t speak!”

  Bear blinked slowly. “Bellyfat spoke. A different wording than our utterance now. You don’t understand this other language.”

  “Stop-stop bearsplaining my own body to me!” Marnie snapped.

  “Gr! Gr! Gr! Gr!” The bear shook his head.

  The saliva dried inside Marnie’s mouth. Why was she arguing! For the principle? What principle? And now they were enraged. Were going to swat her out like a fly—

  “Gr! Gr! Gr!” the bear smacked their paw on the ground, then clapped the coarse pads against their head.

  Marnie’s mouth fell open. The bear was laughing…

  Bear swiped their paw across their eyes. Shook their head hard, dust flying from their fur. “You are a funny person,” Bear said. “Funniness was in the air. I am going now. I need to eat more to prepare for Winter Dream. Bears want more fat. We love our fat and need our fat.” Bear, still sitting, raised one paw, great coarse pads facing upward.

  Bellyfat, who had been sitting snug against the bear, leapt up to land upon the bear’s outs
tretched paw.

  Resentment or jealousy pinched Marnie from inside. She had no idea why she was feeling this way. But it wasn’t a good feeling and she didn’t like it.

  “I’m taking back what’s mine,” Marnie said.

  Did the bear’s eyebrows rise? Marnie wasn’t sure. Because Bellyfat leapt from the bear’s paw to land, plat, against Marnie’s face. It stuck there, like a hanpen starfish. Plat! Plat! Plat! Plat! Bellyfat smacked her cheeks, a rapid alternating series of slaps, with both of their stumpy hanpen hands.

  “Ugh!” Marnie shouted, her lips pressed against the firm moist of Bellyfat. “Get off me!” She tried to bat them off, but Bellyfat leapt away, to dash back to their new friend.

  “Stay here, then! See if I care! Because you won’t last long!” Marnie said. Bellyfat’s one hand was sullied brownish red. From the mess on her cheek, Marnie realized. Even more delicious for the bear. An icing of human blood.

  Marnie remembered to be scared.

  Bear slowly shook their head. “You have strange ideas.”

  “Are you reading my mind?” Marnie whispered.

  Bear shook their head again. “Your body says things, always. The changes in your scent. The muscles you clench. The sound of your heart. Your body is yelling because you do not listen. But that is you. Time for Bear to go, now.” Bear looked down at Bellyfat. Bellyfat seemed to nod their little nubbin head.

  Bear raised their massive paw and seemed to somehow tuck their claws right into their rounded middle. Then they gently pulled outward.

  Marnie stared.

  Like a seam parting, a kind of slit was exposed. But there was no blood, nor the flayed red of exposed flesh. Inside the thin gap Marnie could see something white…

  Bear reached with their other paw, to hold out the flap of skin, several inches wider. It was almost like a pouch—

  Bellyfat leapt up, high, then jumped, feet-first, into the slit of the bear’s middle. Without a backward glance at Marnie, Bellyfat slid right in, disappeared. Bear pressed down at the crease, then ran their paw sideways, once, twice, like they were sealing Velcro.