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Authors: Claire Cameron

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BOOK: The Bear: A Novel
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I look
around and it’s mess mess mess. I didn’t make the mess. There are foods all over the ground like they were thrown. It wasn’t me. Someone took food and pushed it around the ground. I look down and see an apple and pick it up for a bite. It is good. Someone has already taken a bite and it was probably Stick because he does that and then puts them back in the bowl. Mom picks up the apple that Stick bit and shows it to him and says “Do we have a rat in the kitchen?” This bite is bigger than a rat’s or Sticky’s but I don’t care because I am hungry. I take a bite and it is good. A string of juice runs down my chin. I stick out my tongue and it’s apple juice. Yum. I am thirsty. More juice is nice and I wonder if I can stick a straw right into the apple and drink like that. I look around in the mess because I wonder if there is a straw but there isn’t because we don’t bring straws camping in a canoe.

When we go camping in a canoe sometimes after we go across a lake there is a path. When Daddy is happy he picks up the canoe and carries it on his head. He shouts from inside and says he is Mr. Canoe Head and does a dance like with tap dancing shoes except he does it with his wet sneakers and his legs sticking out the bottom of the canoe. Stick and I laugh. He starts shouting about Mr. Canoe Head and walking around and it makes his voice big and echo and so that’s when it scares Stick. But I am older so I keep laughing. Momma takes the paddles and a bag on her back so that she looks like a turtle. The car isn’t here because we have gone in the canoe away from the car for a long time. Stick and I carry our life jackets and I need to take Gwen. We walk on a path behind Mr. Canoe Head until we get to another lake. Mr. Canoe Head puts down the canoe and it becomes a boat again not a head and Daddy becomes him and not two legs. He tells us to wait and that’s where Momma and Stick and I play until Daddy comes back. Coleman is important because we only bring the food in Coleman and he knows how to keep animals out of our food so we still have breakfast. And we have more than breakfast because I see there are cookies that Momma made sitting on the ground. They are in a tin that I know because it always has cookies. I pick it up and there are little holes in the tin now. I think Stick tried to get into the tin with a stick. I put my fingers on the edge of the tin because I want a cookie but it is hard to pull. My fingers slip off and I try again. I can’t get a cookie and I drop the tin because I am mad and can’t see what else fell out of Coleman.

I see a piece of meat on the ground and wrinkle up my nose because I think maybe it stinks. I wish I could smell Gwen instead and she is not in my hand. I look back and see I left her near Coleman all alone so I run and grab her and sniff. She’s almost back to normal smell but my eyes go back to the meat. It looks like when I opened the fridge and there was a big long piece that took up a lot of space. It was in a pan and I took a stool to look in and there was dripped blood and I didn’t like how it looked. My tummy made a little butterfly inside. Momma saw me looking and told me that I didn’t need to worry and that it was a leg. I wanted to know why we keep legs in the fridge and she said it was from a lamb but with no hoof still on and that’s why it had blood because lambs have blood inside them. And a lamb eating grass by a farm isn’t like this meat or the lamb in our fridge but the grass must go into its body and turn red. I don’t like legs or lambs in our fridge and I was glad when I looked the next day and it was gone. And I don’t like this meat that the black dog left all on the ground. It doesn’t have a hoof on it either and instead it has Daddy’s shoe and I don’t know why he would have stuck his shoe on the meat but maybe he was trying to help the lamb. There are flies on the meat because it should be in the fridge. There is no fridge and I hear my name.

“Anna.”

I look up and I don’t know the voice. There isn’t anyone else around the camp because I don’t know where my parents are.

“Anna.”

It’s not the wrong way round way like Stick says it. The voice is whispery soft like a ghost and I look up because it must be flying in the branches. I look up and walk a step closer to the place where the campfire is and look around because the ghosts will scare me. The whispery voice says something else and I know there are ghosts because no one who sounds like that knows my name. I look in the canoe that is sitting with its feet in the water over by the fire rocks and there are no ghosts inside. The black log in the fire has a little bit of white coming up from it and it looks like the tail of a ghost.

“Anna.”

The ghost whispers from the fire and makes my stomach butterfly jumpy so I bend my knees to sit and hug them and sniff Gwen.

“Here, sweetie. Look.”

I turn my head and I see Momma is lying in the plants. There is a flat circle in the camp that is covered by needles and then there is a part with plants that people don’t walk around so it’s the part where the plants stay. I can’t see Momma but I can see the bottom of her foot. Or it’s not her foot but it is her shoe. A special shoe that is good for going in a canoe because I should always wear shoes when I am camping. I look down and my feet are standing in the needles and they don’t have shoes on them. Little piggy toes sit at the end of my feet and they look pink. Piggy pink. I don’t want to put on my shoes I want my mom to put on my shoes. I can’t find my shoes and I haven’t looked because she will ask but it’s too much mess mess mess and my shoes are by the door and there is no door.

My mom has her shoes on because I see one standing up in the plants. The toe points to the sky. These are shoes that you can get wet and they won’t stink. They have rubber that helps her not slip on rocks. Even though she did slip on a rock when she was helping Stick to get out of the canoe. He is a heavy little fella and they went tip and the canoe got water in it because the rubber didn’t stay on the rock. Stick cried. Momma put him on the side of the water and he got to sit in her lap and cry even though he wasn’t really hurt. She hugged him with both her arms around so he was in the warm and soft place and she rocked and said “It’s okay; it’s okay.” Stick cried even though it didn’t hurt anymore because he loves sitting on Momma. When he stopped crying she asked him if it was all better and he said “You okay, Momma?” and put his hand on her cheek. He got even more hugs when it should have been my turn. I have to walk there and Momma is not coming here. She would come if it was Stick so that’s not fair. The special shoe is sitting up in the plant and it is not far away and I don’t like the fire knowing my name.

“That’s my momma,” I whisper to the ghost.

I don’t want the ghost to follow when I walk into the plants and I think of poison ivy. It looks like every other plant and has green leaves that are shiny like all of them everywhere. Momma should be careful. But she doesn’t move and then I am beside her and I look and there is blood and I get so scared that my heart jumps in my throat and a frog is in my mouth. She is hiding a little bit in leaves and maybe that is to cover up the blood so I won’t see it but I can.

“Anna, it’s okay,” she whispers and her sound is not hers. “Come here, sweetie.”

“Blood.”

“It’s okay; it’s okay.” She closes her eyes and it feels like a really long time and I wonder if she fell asleep and then when I’m going to shout to wake her up the eyes pop open. “Come close to me.”

The blood is on her neck and in her shirt and it is ripped and she looks like not Momma but a doll. The doll that she had when she was a baby with eyelids that open and shut and a stare that only goes through the wall and not at your eyes. And skin that is dirty and feels too much like apples.

“It’s okay. Come so you can hear me.”

I bend down and it is still Momma and when I do she is cold but she still smells Momma. I put my cheek close to hers and I feel better because the ghosts won’t come when I am close. She doesn’t need to talk to them or do the ghost dance or turn back on the lights. Ghosts just know.

So I sit with my cheek touching hers and I am finally safe and I start to feel hot tears because of all the yelling and I’m hungry and tired and Coleman wasn’t good and Daddy is so mad he is staying away. And hot tears come out and so does snot and my breath goes huff because I am so glad that I am safe now and can sit with my cheek on Momma’s cheek. I hear a little sniffle and I look and her eyes are teary too. I watch one water fill up and then it slides out the slanty side and down the side of her face and into her hair. Yellow hair that goes out over the plants and shines more than a leaf. She has blue eyes that are like mine even if everyone says Sticky looks more like her so when I look in her eyes it’s like I can see what mine look like on my head. Same color. We checked in the bathroom mirror when I stood on the sink and she held me so I wouldn’t fall and we leaned in and looked at our eyes up close. The color of our eyes is called blue but is really gray with a piece of darker blue around the outside and then lighter color in the middle. Except not as much in the middle as the black part that is a hole that I see through. Sticky has the same eyes too. Both of us have Momma’s eyes in our head. And she looks at me and she doesn’t wipe her tears. That is usually what she does even though she doesn’t cry very many times. But she wipes tears quickly because then I can’t see and maybe she hides them and no one knows the secret of crying. She is crying and she doesn’t hide the secret of me crying by trying to take my tears away.

“Where’s Alex?” she whispers.

“I don’t know.”

“Have you seen him?” Her eyes roll around in her head.

“In Coleman.”

“Is he there?”

I want Momma to use her normal voice and not a whisper that sounds like she swallowed bark and to put her arms around me for a rock and hug and sing.

“Please, Anna. Look for me.”

I look over at the tent. It is ripped with a big slash and so that says why Daddy yelled because he would not like a rip in the tent. Through the slash I see something moving. It is inside the tent and pushing things.

“Something is in the tent.”

“What?” Momma says wispy. “What is it?”

I look more and the side of the tent pushes a bit and wiggles and a little bit of flapping. I don’t know what it is inside the tent and I see Stick’s little round head peeking through the rip. “Stick is playing in the tent.”

“Oh, thank God.” She is gaspy. “He’s okay?”

“No.”

“Is he hurt?”

“No; he has a poop.”

“Thank God.”

It is funny that she thanks God for Stick’s poop. Usually she shrugs and says that he should remember to use the toilet because soon he is nearly three years old and it is a good age for in the toilet. His poop is big like a moose poop because it’s too big for a diaper and yuck. But he forgets and wants a diaper. And that means he gets Momma to pick him up and snuggle. I have to go and get a clean diaper and sometimes wipes and a bag to put them in for the garbage and no snuggle at all. Momma says that he will learn when he is ready. I don’t think he will because he wants all the snuggles for him. Ever.

“You need to change his diaper,” I say because that is what happens next.

“No,” she says and it’s soft so I can barely hear.

“I will get a diaper.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

But I know it does because it always matters.

“Is Daddy—”

“Daddy is mad.”

“—there?”

“He is so mad he is staying away.”

“Can you see him?”

“He told me to stay in Coleman. I did for a really long time but Stick pooped so it stinks and then the lid fell open so it wasn’t—”

“It’s okay,” she says and closes her eyes for too long. “Listen. I need you to listen. I need you to be brave, Anna, do you hear?”

“Yes. With poop?”

“I need you to get your brother off the island. It’s not safe.”

“Are we going home?”

“The canoe. Drag it into the water. Take your paddle.”

I don’t answer. I see the blood on her neck.

“Did you see it?” she asks.

“See what?”

“A bad thing?”

“Blood.”

“More than blood?”

I think and it might mean Stick’s poop or that I got out of Coleman and the dark, but one of the bad things comes out of my mouth: “The black dog.”

“Yes, away from the black dog.”

“He’s scary.”

“Push off in the canoe and paddle, like I showed you.”

“One, two, three, four.”

“Just like that, Anna. Get your brother into the canoe and go to the middle of the lake.”

“You come too.”

“No. I am staying here.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“My neck is hurt. I can’t move.”

“I want to go home.”

“Get into the canoe and paddle away. Wait for us.”

“Can we go home?”

“Anna.” She said it sharp and then a choke like her orange juice went in the wrong pipe.

“Daddy is mad,” I say.

“No. You do this for Daddy. He loves you.”

“So he’s not mad?”

“For me. Both of us. Do you understand?”

“I want to go home.”

“Go, Anna,” she says in the means-it voice.

“Yes, Momma.”

And the means-it voice is when I have to tidy up toys even if Sticky made them go on the floor and only some of them I did. His trucks are in the truck bin even though I didn’t take them out because I don’t like trucks so everybody knows they are Sticky’s. Even though it is my job to put them away. The worst is when I have to look after Stick because he is my little brother and I want to play magic in the castle and all he knows is to knock it down again and again. I put the tower on the castle and he takes his fist and knocks it and he thinks that is a funny game. It is not funny and my magic fairy has no castle. I don’t want to do things and the means-it voice makes me because I don’t want Momma to feel mad. Not now not even ever. I am her special.

But I don’t move. I crouch in and put my cheek back on Momma’s because even though it isn’t warm it is a smooth cheek, not wiry like Daddy’s. And Gwen wants her cheek too so we both cuddle in. Her hot tears are there and Gwen sticks out her paw to wipe my momma’s tear because Gwen knows that Momma doesn’t want me to see her cry. Except now she doesn’t seem to care. And Momma is taking breaths and she opens her eyes and looks at me and I smile because it is nice to sit and have her look at me.

BOOK: The Bear: A Novel
10.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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