The Bear: A Novel Read online

  My heart rolls out of my chest and onto the ground and I can’t push it back in. I am shaking and I know I am scared but then my legs are wet and it is warm for a minute and Gwen is on my face so I reach down and it’s wet and I peed. Okay because a little warmer but then it is cold right away and I am shaking so I couldn’t help it. I don’t know how big the black dog is and I don’t know if he will drag me out from the tree. Grrrr gaaaa grrrr gaaaa it keeps going to scare me and I wish it would just bite because I don’t want to be so scared anymore. I wish I didn’t have to be under a tree and my stomach keeps rolling in and out. The shakes make it feel like my bones are going to rattle out of my body or my knees are coming apart. I stare and the black dog is just sitting like when the lions are watching the deers and waiting for them to move so they can jump and rip with claws and then bite on necks and even ride on the back of the deer when it tries to run.

  The black dog is waiting for me to move because that is when he knows I have seen him so I know the thing is that I can’t move or let him know that I can see him sitting like a black hump. Grrrr gaaaa he makes the growl but he thinks I can’t hear that because it is like breathing to him. No one thinks that anyone else can hear them breathe so I have to lie very still. Gwen and I don’t move and my pee is freezing on my leg and stink but I leave it there. My knees keep shaking and I wish I could put my hands on them to stop the top caps from coming loose but that would be moving and the black dog would know. I barely breathe I am so still because that is the only way I can stay alive. The black dog will attack if I move. So I just stay still. I don’t even move my finger.

  18.

  There is light in my eye crack and I am so cold. I listen and grrrr gaaaa and I remember the black dog and I open my eye crack. Gwen is with me. I peek out and can’t see the black dog. Only a stump with green mossy mossy and pine needles and a tree and another tree so the black dog has snuck around. Grrrr gaaaa it sounds like his breath but I look down and the sound is coming from Stick. His nose says grrrr gaaaa. He must have heard the black dog and is trying to make a sound the same or I don’t know. Maybe Stick thinks that if he makes the same noise that he will scare the black dog and it will go away because it is the scariest thing on earth so it can only be scared of itself. Or he thought the black dog would drag him away and my bones are still shaking but more from cold than scared right now. Gwen is okay and Stick’s big head is on my arm. I try to push on my arm to sit up but I can’t. I think my arm is gone and it won’t move. That’s when I know the black dog did chew it off. It is off from my shoulder.

  I look at my fingers on the other side of Stick’s sleepy head and they can’t move. They are sausages. I try to wiggle and nothing. I reach over Stick’s big head and touch the sausage fingers and they are cold and look blue and were in the fridge or the freezer and is frozen and just needs to be cooked to eat so that must be the black dog’s plan.

  “Sticky?” I whisper.

  “Wha?” His eyes are glued shut a little and he is so dirty he should take a bath.

  “My hand is eaten.”

  Stick sits up and looks like he is sitting on the moon. “Momma?”

  “My hand died,” I say and I am still on the needles because it is hard to move with a sausage on your body. I try to wiggle my fingers for him to show him that I can’t wiggle my fingers but he doesn’t know what I am doing because there is nothing. “I can’t move it.”

  He looks at my hand and looks back at me. I know his eyes mean he is hungry and I am hungry too and maybe he means he wants to eat my hand if that is all he says about my hand and I hope not.

  “Band-Aid?”

  I know he wants one but only cuts with blood get Band-Aids or else Stick wanted to have them all over his knees just because he had a bang.

  And then the needles on the ground start to prickle in my hand and ouch it hurts too much. I sit up and bang my head on the tree ouch. Stick jumps out of our bed to get out of the way and aaaaah my arm is being attacked by needles except now I am standing and the needles are not touching my arm but their needle eyes have laser beams because they are still poking everywhere in my hand. I can move it and I try to hit it with my other. I jump around but nothing makes the needles stop poking even invisible needles. It hurts so so much and Stick just watches because there is no blood or Band-Aids. I jump around and it feels a little better but my thumb is stabbed. And my fingers are curled around and now they can go straight. I can feel my own hand and I ask it to make a punching fist and it does. I keep moving it because I can’t believe it was cut off and now it is back on and moving like a magic trick. I stand and look at it because I thought I would be a one-arm girl forever and ever. Stick is standing watching me and he doesn’t know what is going on and all he does is let a tiny pee come out of his dingle. He is too much of a baby to tell him what happened and what I saw in the night. He would get scared and cry too much but I know. The black dog is making war.

  I take Stick over to the chocolate milk water in the little pool and I drink and I use my hands to help him drink and we don’t catch a fish. It is cold and we both are tired. I lead Stick back to the tree.

  “We need Momma and Daddy,” I say to Stick.

  Stick says “Yes” but he looks very sad and tired and his face is more like a pudgy tomato today than it is normally. I touch his cheek and it is hot and leaves a finger mark that is white. I watch my finger mark and it stays there for a minute and then it fades but not back to normal skin it goes red.

  “Ouch,” says Stick.

  I look at my arm and it is the same with a fingerprint but not as strong and that might be because it’s my own finger. Not such a white mark comes. If someone else tried to make a fingerprint in me it would be whiter like happened on Stick. Except Stick’s finger is too small and so it doesn’t count and there is no one else.

  We had fingerprints when we were at the cottage and it was too much sun. The sun was very hot and it reached down and made heat on my skin in a burn. I was supposed to wear a T-shirt when I went in the lake. A T-shirt swims around when I tried to swim and it floats out and was pulling me down into the water. I told Momma that I couldn’t swim with the T-shirt and so she said we had to go inside then and got mad. That was when Stick got lost at the cottage and I think she was already mad about that too and it was going to happen soon. We were playing and Momma was making dinner and she said harrumph many times because she didn’t have Daddy help. She said that I need to act bigger now and start to be a more help. I was supposed to watch Stick and play and then I said I should get Jell-O for dessert because I never got to eat it before. I found a small box that she told me is Jell-O. Jessica told me that Jell-O wiggles and it is the best. I don’t know how it wiggles because I shook the box and it sounds like there is sand I think of sand like at the beach. Momma got mad because I am saying that I am not old enough to do babysitting for money. I was just supposed to play. I got mad too because I don’t get Jell-O. I found it in the cupboard and want it for dinner and she says “I don’t trust that stuff” and doesn’t like it wiggling and thinks yuck. She really huffs and stamps off down to the bedroom and her feet are so mad they go flop flop flop in the flip-flops and she goes away. Stick has his hands on his ears and I feel sad. I wanted Gwen and she was sitting on my cottage bed and we cuddled.

  But then later Momma called “Stick, Alex, Sticky, answer me, sweetie,” and Gwen and I found out that Sticky was gone. Momma was screaming at the cottage and begging Stick to come out and worried about the water and snakes and yelled and told me to yell but then she said “Don’t yell—let’s be quiet because he might be afraid.” Gwen and I whispered “Here, Sticky Sticky.” Momma got so mad and said I wasn’t watching Stick. She asked Jesus to find him.

  Momma tells me not to move and so at least I don’t go away. I knew that was the first time we were two. Gwen and I sat and my feet went fuzzy and I feel scared. I wished I could be with Momma but she was looking for Stick in the closet. I think that we should pray to God
and not Jesus. That was a mistake because Jesus didn’t bring Stick back to us. Momma was crying. I heard her saying about she thought he was with me. I felt sad and mad at Stick because it’s his fault and I get in trouble. I know what to do when I get lost by accident. I go to the front of the grocery store to wait for Momma or I tell a man dressed like a policeman who watches for people who are stealing from the store to find her for me. I don’t talk to strangers. The stranger will be super nice and have candy. He has a big smile that is nice. Or sometimes he has a big white van with puppies inside that I want to see except I am not allowed to say that I want to see them even if I do. The stranger isn’t the policeman or the lady who gets to push all the buttons on the cash register that counts our groceries. Stick doesn’t know anything like that.

  Gwen said to me that we should go out of the cottage and we sneak out the door and onto the rock and it smells like warm and I see the water is twinkling at me and the dock looks like a tongue stuck out. I walked over to step on the tongue.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, dock.”

  The dock didn’t answer.

  “Hello, dock!”

  “Nana?”

  It didn’t sound like it came from the dock if the dock could talk and I didn’t think yes. I looked down and it was almost dark and it was Stick tucked behind the side of the rock. It was a big round rock. Even bigger than his head and body. It was hard to see him because of his shirt that is like the color of the rock and everything is round.

  “Is that you, Stick?”

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t say anything. He looked at me and then looked out at the water. I turned to look at the same place. All I saw was the lake and the sparkles and the trees that were far away on the other side and pointing up like arrows at their tops.

  “Daddy,” said Stick.

  And because I speak Stick I knew what he was doing. He thought Daddy was coming. I looked out at the lake and no boat. I didn’t see Daddy but I want Daddy and I wait to see if I can see him. I love seeing Daddy because he picks me up and swings me around really fast and like I’m going to fly into the sky but I don’t. He hangs onto under my armpits and woooo up and down and up and then big squeezy hug with both arms. He sticks prickly whiskers in my neck and hot breath and laughs and says he missed me so so much. And then he does Stick next except smaller woos because Stick got scared once and started to cry even though it was just supposed to be a happy hello. I can tell he wants a Daddy hug. He got lost because he missed Daddy and decided to wait for the boat. He must be coming soon. Even though we left Daddy on purpose and Stick didn’t know. I can’t wait to see Daddy.

  19.

  I need to pee so I go out of our tree fort and I sit near the stump. My pee isn’t very much. I kick dirt over it and go back to the fort. Stick is under the tree and it stinks now so I look in and he has peed a little inside.

  “Stick!” I yell so mad.

  “What?”

  “That’s my spot.”

  “Nana?”

  “You peed in my spot.”

  He looks at his little pool of pee but it’s like he doesn’t care. I am getting sick of Stick because he thinks all his problems are my problems because he just stares at everything and won’t do anything. I get so mad that both my hands are in fists and I go grrrr.

  “Get it out,” I yell.

  He looks at the pee and it’s like he doesn’t even think he put it there. He is making me do everything and he just sits like a stump and then he sticks out one finger like he is going to touch it. I almost tell him no but then I don’t care. He puts his finger in the pee and then pulls it back because he knows only after he sticks his finger that it is gross and wipes it on his pj top.

  “Use dirt and put it over on top,” I tell him. I have to have every idea as if I’m the momma. He looks at me and then looks to the side of our fort and sees the tree that I dragged to make a wall. He pulls on it and breaks off only a tiny stick and pokes that in the pee. He stirs it around like that is going to get out of my spot. I am so mad I feel like my head is so red it will be a volcano explosion off the top of my neck.

  “You are too stupid to cover up pee,” I yell at him with my scary voice. I take a rock and I use it like a shovel and I put dirt over the pee so it is down lower in the floor of the fort. “You are stupid stupid stupid.”

  I have to scrape the needles out with a flat rock to get the pee all disappeared and it is so gross that I feel barf in my neck. It comes up almost but not all the way.

  “Stupid Stick,” I yell and finally the pee is gone so I can sit again. And Stick’s eyes are wet and I see a tear leaking out but I don’t care.

  But then his bum is dirty and he stands up and shows it to me.

  “Help me, Nana,” he says.

  “Arrrgh,” I scream in his face and he shrinks back like he is scared and that is good because he better be because arrrgh and I am bigger and can punch him anytime I want. No one is here to stop me. I stamp out and stamp over and tell him to sit down outside the fort. He tries to bring his inside dog and walks up on his hands and knees with his head down and his tongue out but I don’t care. He smiles like we are friends but we aren’t. He stinks and I really hate having a brother ever. He tries to give me a paw and even does a few barks but he sees that I don’t want his inside dog and I don’t care. He whimpers more and goes off to sit in the fort.

  “No,” I shout. “No going in the fort. Bad Sticky.”

  His eyes look sad and I don’t care either.

  I need to watch for the black dog and I keep looking around. I want to know when he will be back. I don’t know but I better get my weapons ready because dust for fairies is not big enough for the power. I wander around looking for the right stick and finally after a long time I find it. It is big enough to hold in my hand like thicker than my thumb and almost as big as my wrist. I find another that is bigger like almost thicker than my leg but I have to use two hands to pick it up. That is no good because it would be hard to sneak up on the black dog and I will be right there before I could stab and if I made a mistake he can just reach and bite me. Instead I need a stick that I can throw like a spear and that’s how I know the right stick is exactly right. I try to throw it a few times and it hits the dirt and bounces off and lies on its side. I try again and the same thing happens and so that’s how I know I need to make the end into a pointy. It will stick into the dirt and into the black dog.

  I have a flat rock and that is good because I can scrape the stick on it to make a point. I wish I had a big long knife because then I could put it on the end and already have a point because I start scraping and my arms burn fast. But I don’t want black dog to come when I am not ready so I keep scraping. I find a flatter rock with an edge and pick it up and yuck it is the pee rock and I say grrrr at Stick who is sitting near the fort and ignoring me. I wipe my hands on the ground and find another rock and it is better so I use it to scrape the point and it works. I put the stick between my feet to hold it and sit on the needles and I scrape and then little shaves of wood come off the stick. In a long time and I have to take breaks but then I get a good point again.

  I test it and it sticks a little bit more into the ground. I see Stick sitting there like a lump on the ground. He has two small sticks that are no good even though he thinks they are cars. If they are cars they don’t go fast. I do a big roar and Stick turns around and his eyes are puffy but they still go big and he looks scared and all he does is cry. Stupid Stick. He will be no good when black dog comes it will be all up to me and everything is up to me. I turn away and stab at the ground and I find a softer part where I can stick in the stick and make it stay and I practice. Over and over I roar like a daddy and I pretend the spot is black dog and he is scared and I get him dead. And I am the queen of the land and no one else can be.

  20.

  I scrub my hands on the ground because something is wrong with the skin. I wait for the sun to come and w
arm me up and it won’t. And I was sitting on my sharpening rock and I found a bubble between my fingers. I think the black dog spit on me and made my skin go on fire and now it is melting off. Sometimes skin is itchy when it melts and it feels really bad. There are a few more bubbles that I find up my arm. I rub them on the ground because maybe if that part of the skin comes off faster with rubbing it would feel better. My skin gone will make me sad but there is always skin underneath like a scab. Maybe I will get blood and this would be worth a Band-Aid even if there was no blood and I think Momma would say yes. Or she might say it is the one that needs air. When I am sure it is a cut that needs a Band-Aid and Momma often says no it’s one that needs air. I see Sticky out of the corner of my eye but I don’t feel like talking to him because I am so itchy itchy itchy.

  “Nana?” Stick says. I can tell by the way he stands back and says my name that he knows I am still mad about the pee.

  “Nana?” he says again.

  “What?” I don’t look at him. I am looking at my hand. One of the bubbles has popped so that will feel better. There is not blood but instead it is yellow blood that is running from the bubble to my arm. It is gross and yuck. I hope it will feel better because it is popped and running and still too itchy. Stick comes right in front of me and looks too.