by Sable Sylvan
“Hangry? Horny and angry?” asked Peter.
“Hungry and angry,” said Pepper.
“Can I make you horny and angry?” asked Peter.
“No, but you’re going to make me hungry, angry, and angrier if we don’t get this show on the road,” said Pepper. “Are we going on this date or not?”
“No,” said Oliver.
“No?” asked Pepper.
“Look — you obviously don’t want to go on a date with me, or him, or us, together,” said Oliver, crossing his arms. “I get why you are upset, and I get why you are treating us this way. Frankly, we deserve it — but you also deserve to have a good time. Do you need time to cool off before going on a date with us? Because dating us, well, it shouldn’t be a punishment. If you already hate it…”
“I can just leave? Go home?” asked Pepper.
“Yeah, of course,” said Peter.
“And we could pick this up some other time?” asked Pepper.
“I mean, we’d pick something else for us to do, but, yeah, sure,” said Oliver.
“What do you mean, something else? What, does this date idea expire or something?” asked Pepper with a laugh.
“I mean, we can’t go apple picking in like, December,” said Oliver.
“Apple picking?” asked Pepper, surprised.
“What, you’ve never been apple picking?” asked Peter.
“Of course I’ve been apple picking,” said Pepper, a hand on her hip. “I’m just surprised you two came up with a cute date idea.”
“Oh, it’s cute?” asked Peter. “I just have a hankering for apples. Huh. Do you think the word hankering comes from the word hangry?”
“No,” said Pepper and Oliver at the same time.
“Well…I do like apple picking, and all this talk of apples makes me want apples,” said Pepper. “You two wouldn’t be the types to tease a gal without leaving her satisfied, would you?”
“Of course not,” said Oliver.
“I would — because I’m a stone cold bastard that wants to hear you beg for more, but, that’s just me,” said Peter, putting his hands in the air.
Thirty minutes later, Pepper was walking through crunchy leaves and taking in real country air. Although she spent a lot of time outdoors during the autumn, the pumpkin patch was not as deep into the country as the apple orchard. The pumpkin patch was, like her home bakery, just on the edge of town. It was along the border marking the limnus between Port Jameson proper and Port Jameson’s rural parts, but, it wasn’t wholly country.
Although the orchard was bustling with activity, it still felt like a retreat away from the hustle of life in town. Peter went to grab the group some cider while Oliver went to grab three bushel baskets for picking apples, which Pepper insisted on carrying out to the orchard — as of course, Peter and Oliver would have to carry them back once they were full.
Peter walked back to Pepper and Oliver. The autumn sun gleamed in Peter’s emerald eyes, and that’s when Pepper remembered what she’d forgotten to say the other day.
All of a sudden, Pepper pushed Peter back.
“You!” shouted Pepper.
“Ow! What was that for?” asked Peter.
“You — you’re the frikkin’ bear that scared me that day at the pumpkin patch!” shouted Pepper. “It was you the whole time, Peter! Yesterday, during the fight — I saw your eyes. I knew that I’d seen that bear somewhere before…just as I knew I’d seen your eyes before, the first time we met. I didn’t put two and two together until yesterday during that fight. I had the thought, for a fleeting second, and then…it went away. Well, this time, I remembered it.”
“What’s going on?” asked Oliver, separating Pepper from Peter.
“Remember the day we first met?” asked Pepper. “Remember how I was out of breath and muddy?”
“Because you fell in the patch,” said Oliver.
“And why did I fall?” asked Pepper.
“Because — oh yeah, that bear, huh,” said Oliver. “Small world.”
“Small…world? Are you frikkin’ kidding me?” asked Pepper. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I am! But…I don’t really get the issue,” admitted Oliver.
“Peter’s the bear that scared me. He never told me he was the bear that scared me. He was frikkin’ hired to make sure that if there was a bear, I felt protected and safe, and of course, he didn’t have to do that job. He was the bear the whole dang time!” insisted Pepper.
“Yeah, that’s right,” said Peter, nonchalantly.
“Why did you insist on scaring me?” asked Pepper.
“I didn’t! I was there for the honey — but, then I saw you, and…” started Peter.
“And what?” asked Pepper.
“Well, I wanted to introduce myself, but you tossed a frikkin’ pumpkin at my head!” said Peter. “You got mad about us breaking those pumpkins during the fight. Well, for someone that cares so much about pumpkins, I’m surprised you chose one to use as a weapon.”
“I threw a pumpkin at you and you frikkin’ roared!” insisted Pepper.
“I laughed — in bear,” said Peter.
“Well…” started Oliver.
“What?” asked Pepper.
“Bear laughs do kinda sound like roars — to the untrained ear,” said Oliver.
“I think you just managed to piss off both of us in a single sentence,” said Pepper.
“Yeah — nobody likes a fence-sitter!” insisted Peter.
“What about people who have a fetish for fence-sitters?” asked Oliver. “Are you kink-shaming them?”
“Excuse me — am I interrupting?” asked an old woman, coming up to the group.
“No, sorry we were loud, ma’am,” said Pepper.
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” said the woman. “I was wondering if I could have a word.”
“Of course,” said Peter.
“You two strong, buff lads, well, you look like you must be lumberjacks,” said the old woman, gripping their arms. “I’m Grandma Petunia. I own this here apple orchard with my sick husband.”
“We’ll keep him in our thoughts,” said Pepper.
“Well, while he gets better, I need someone to help me with a chore,” said Grandma Petunia. “I hate to be a bother, but…would you two boys be able to help an old woman with something?”
“Sure,” said Oliver. “What do you need?”
“Can one of you two help me chop up three trees that fell down?” asked Grandma Petunia. “You know, I think a wild bear must’ve come in the night to try and get some apples out of their branches because there’re claw marks all over the dang trees!”
“That does sound like a wild bear,” said Peter.
“Well…if you help me out, you can get a whole bushel full of apples for free,” promised Grandma Petunia.
“That’s far too generous,” said Oliver.
“I insist,” said Grandma Petunia. “Come this way.”
Grandma Petunia led the gang to her tiny cottage where the two men grabbed a pair of axes from her husband’s tool shed. Then, the trio went to the group of apple trees that need chopping.
Three trees had been clawed, their bark broken and torn. That could’ve healed over time. However, the trees looked like they’d been pushed over, bent as easily as blades of grass.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” said Pepper, folding her arms.
“I have,” said Peter. “I, uh…may have climbed a tree in my shift, my first summer as a bear, and uh…well, let’s just say that trees like these are meant to carry apples — not bears.”
“You think a bear went into the tree and caused the entire trunk to bend and break?” asked Pepper.
“I mean…it’s not within the realm of the impossible,” said Oliver, patting one of the trees and looking over the damage.
“Do you think a shifter could’ve done it?” asked Pepper.
“Technically, yes,” said Oliver.
“But —
think about it,” said Peter. “Let’s say a bear shifter did come here. Why would they climb the tree, in their shift, to get the apples? Why wouldn’t they just sneak in here as a bear, shift back into their human form, grab some apples, toss them to the ground, change back into a bear, eat the apples, and go on their merry beary way?”
“Why would a werebear bother to change back into a human to climb a tree?” asked Oliver.
“Because it’s easier to climb a tree as a person, instead of as a big fat bear,” said Peter. “You should know that, seeing as you’re certainly ready for the winter.” Peter poked Oliver right in the belly, and Oliver was very glad that he had self-control, otherwise, the ax he was holding would’ve gone through Peter’s trunk, instead of the trunk of the tree.
“You done?” asked Oliver, as Peter poked his belly.
“Yeah,” said Peter, pulling his hand away. “Sorry.”
“Well, you’ll be sorry when come winter, you have to wake up during hibernation to eat cold ham sandwiches because you didn’t eat salmon and marionberries and apples to fatten yourself up for winter,” said Oliver.
“Who said I’m not fattening myself up?” asked Peter.
“Those loose jeans of yours,” said Oliver. “Now, are we chopping this tree down, or what?”
“Show us what you got!” called Grandma Petunia.
“My thoughts exactly,” agreed Pepper.
“The first thing we’re gonna wanna do is take down the branches,” said Oliver.
“What about the apples?” asked Peter.
“The ones that are left on the branches aren’t any good,” said Oliver. “If you see any you want, grab them. Toss all the wood to the side, Peter, and Grandma Petunia, you can probably sell that applewood to a grillmaster.”
“One step ahead of you,” said Grandma Petunia. “We work with a steakhouse in town that also smokes meats. I’m surprised — you do know your stuff.”
“What can I say?” asked Oliver. “I like apples.”
“You got yourself a real charmer there,” Grandma Petunia whispered to Pepper.
“I mean — he’s charming when he wants to be,” said Pepper, rolling her eyes.
“My husband’s the same way — that’s how a lot of men are,” said Grandma Petunia. “Heck, that’s how a lot of people are!”
Oliver and Peter rolled up their sleeves. Oliver took time to rip smaller branches down from the large branches. He ripped through the wood as easily as if he were plucking petals from a rose. Pepper’s jaw nearly hit the leaf-covered ground. Oliver was big and brawny, but he was moving with the grace and gentle precision of a samurai trimming a bonsai.
Pepper heard a ripping sound. She looked toward the sound, and her eyes went wide. Peter had gone for a very different approach.
Long story short, Peter was proof a bear had absolutely, without a doubt, been the animal that had ruined the tree.
Long story long, Peter was pulling full branches off the other tree, stripping giant branches off the trunks. His muscles bulged beneath the fabric of his flannel shirt. His veins were popping out. While Oliver’s work seemed effortless, Peter’s work was obviously pushing his body to the limit. The way Peter tore through the tree with a primal power almost had Pepper thinking that Peter was about to shift.
“For safety, I’ll need everyone to move away from the tree,” explained Oliver. “I want the tree to land in this area, but…it’s best to be safe. Please stay about twenty feet away from the tree, in all directions.”
Pepper and Grandma Petunia moved, but, Peter did not.
“Peter?” asked Oliver.
Peter answered with a grunt.
“Whatever,” said Oliver. “I warned you.”
Oliver lined the ax up with wood as if he were eyeballing a golf ball and trying to line up a perfect swing. He pulled back his hatchet and brought it down, hard. Oliver pulled back the hatchet and swung, hard, making a second clean cut. A wedge fell out of the tree. Oliver moved to the other side, quickly chopped another wedge out of the tree, and the tree fell to the ground.
One of the branches of the tree brushed by Peter, catching his shirt. Although the branch wasn’t particularly sharp, the weight of the tree caused the shirt to rip and it scratched Peter’s back.
“Peter! Are you alright?” called Pepper.
Peter again grunted. Peter had stripped his tree of its branches.
“Here,” said Oliver, walking over to Peter to pass him the ax. “Your turn. Show us what you got.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” answered Peter. “Move.”
Oliver carried the ax over to Pepper and Grandma Petunia.
“What’s he doing?” asked Pepper.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Oliver.
Peter got down on his knees and looked over the base of the tree. He crab-walked around the ground and Pepper couldn’t help but laugh. She stifled her giggle with her hands. It was kind of funny to watch Peter walk around the tree while squatting, his shirt torn open, the torn fabric billowing and flapping in the wind.
Peter got up. He took off his shirt. His sweaty, heaving chest glistened in the low sun.
Then, he undid his pants.
“Peter! We are in mixed company!” called Pepper.
“There are ladies present!” shouted Oliver.
“Well, now, I’m no prude,” said Grandma Petunia. “I wanna see his technique — so I can share it with my husband, of course, so my husband can utilize it to deal with the next tree. It’s a learning experience. Don’t deny an old woman a chance to learn something new.”
Peter stripped off his jeans. Then, he stepped out of his boots, took off his underwear, and stood, stark naked on the other side of the tree.
Peter squatted down.
“Peter, don’t do that — not here,” ordered Pepper.
Peter reached forward. He put his hands underneath the two tree roots he’d identified during his survey of the tree’s base. Then, he pulled upwards.
Pepper watched as the tree moved a half inch off the ground — and then, another half inch, and another. Then, the tree stopped moving, although Peter’s arms were turning red and veiny. Peter was breathing in hard and Pepper was sure he was about to tear a muscle.
“Peter, be — ” started Pepper, but before she could finish, Peter let out a roar.
Pepper watched as brown fur covered Peter’s skin. She couldn’t believe it. Peter was frikkin’ shifting.
Peter didn’t bother turning back into a man to strip the last tree of its branches. He took a branch in his mouth and ripped it away. He leapt on another branch and it broke under his weight. He used his paws and dug around two roots and clawed and loosened the roots from the soil. Then, he took a running leap and jumped on the tree.
For a second, he was on the tree like a pole vaulter on a pole, or a Bear Buns stripper on a pole, or a fireman on a pole, or any number of things one might find on a pole.
Then, the tree started to wiggle. Peter pushed his weight toward one side and then the other, back and forth, and soon, the whole tree was rocking back and forth, Peter was loosening up the roots of the tree with his weight on the trunk of the tree. It was as if the tree was a spatula, and the mixing side of the spatula was stuck in some very thick batter — the orchard’s soil.
Peter jumped down off the tree and jumped on it again, this time, aiming for the center, and miraculously, his weight was able to push the whole dang tree to the ground! The top of the tree hit the ground, and the roots of the tree popped out of the dirt.
“Did he just…” started Pepper.
“So you saw that too?” asked Grandma Petunia. “I was starting to think I was hallucinating!”
Peter shifted back into his human form, his two muffins facing Oliver, Pepper, and Grandma Petunia. He got changed into his clothes again and walked back to the group.
“Now that is how you take down a tree,” said Peter.
“My method was faster,” said Oliver, crossin
g his arms.
“But it wasn’t as entertaining,” chided Grandma Petunia.
“It took a bear to start ruining the tree — took a bear to finish ruining it,” said Peter. “No trouble.”
“But that must leave a strapping young lad like you famished!” said Grandma Petunia. “You should also get a free bushel of apples. Thank you so much for your help, all of you.”
“May I offer a tip, ma’am?” asked Oliver.
“Sure,” said Grandma Petunia.
“If you want to avoid this issue in the future, you should hire some farmhands to pick bushels of apples and offer them for sale at the front of the orchard,” said Oliver.
“I already have them pick apples for us to sell out front,” said Grandma Petunia. “If they pick any more, there wouldn’t be any left for cute kids like you three.”
“Well, to avoid this issue in the future, what I suggest doing is asking your farmhands to get apples from the tops of the trees, say, the top half — clearing out the canopy of the trees,” explained Oliver.
“That seems like a lot of work,” said Grandma Petunia. “But, you’re a lumberjack — guess that means you know about trees.”
“Well, I’m speaking from experience as a man who loves apples and a bear who loves apples,” joked Oliver. “Peter — when you go foraging for apples in your shift, how do you pick what apples to eat?”
“I eat what’s there,” said Peter. “I like the ones close to the ground, but…”
“But what?” asked Oliver.
“I’d climb an apple tree if there weren’t any I could reach,” said Peter.
“You see, ma’am?” asked Oliver. “You’re always going to have problems with bears — and with visitors to the orchard who want apples from the top branches. You don’t want bears or human bodies in these trees. The trees just can’t hold those loads. I’m sure you’ve had issues with people breaking branches because they insisted on climbing up in the trees.”
“That’s true — it isn’t just bears that cause me issues,” said Grandma Petunia.
