Page 1 of Mating Season
1
ROSALIE
Stop me if you’ve heard this one… there’s a hypothetical question that went around the internet that goes something like this: As a woman, would you rather be confronted with a bear in the woods, or a man? Every woman with a pulse says bear, to the absolute utter outrage of the entire internet male population.
They think we haven’t understood the question. Or that we’re just silly irrational women who don’t get that bears are dangerous, or the damage a bear’s claws can do. Maybe they think we have some Disney Princess fantasy where we sit in the forest singing while surrounded by all the woodland creatures. Maybe they think we think that bears can be our friends. I might think that last one just a little bit, but I’m not actually deluded enough toreallybelieve it.
Who knows? I do know they think we’re exaggerating the danger of the average human male stranger. Because their next flustered words are “Not all men!” Oh, that’s comforting. Notallmen. So as long as there’s one shining unicorn white knight we should rest easy. I’m glad there was a man on the internet to explain this to me. You know if it was only a few men they’d say “Not most men”, they’d never give up that opportunity for themoral high ground, but they give their game away because what they want… is access—easy access to their natural prey: women.
As far as I’m aware, I’m not a bear’s natural prey. Fun fact about bears, they are hypo-carnivores which means they only get about thirty percent of their diet from meat. And even when hungry, a human isn’t their first choice of food. They also aren’t a territorial species. I’ll take my chances with the bear. Thank you for your concern, random dude on the internet.
I’m actually hiking in the woods right now mentally obsessing about this stupid hypothetical question and how much it enrages me. By myself. At night.
Before you start your judgments about how foolish I am to be alone out in the woods at night, let me explain myself. And I’m sure actually the reason you’re judging me right now is not because you thought I might run into a bear. Yeah. Exactly.
I was hiking in the middle of the day, and then I got lost, and then it got dark. That was actually a quicker explanation than I thought it was going to be.
I glimpse bits of the full moon through the spaces between the trees. An owl hoots in the distance because of course it does. And then I hear the crunch of leaves, and somehow I know that’s a boot from a human… not the scurrying of an animal. It’s too close, and contrary to many people’s fears, wild animals don’t tend to creep so close to humans for fun.
“You lost, sweetheart?” His voice is a thick southern drawl. He’s some good old boy that likes to be out in the woods. Is he hunting? Camping? Probably not hiking. Nobody really does that at night—except for me… who didn’t understand the assignment… “be home before dark.” Or at least safely locked inside your car.
“Um, no. No, I’m just fine,” I say, backing away slowly and hoping he’ll take the hint and go on his way.
I squint at the flashlight knowing it’s too much to hope this might be a forest ranger and wondering if that would keep me safe or if the opportunity of discovering a woman out alone in the woods is just too much for far too many men who like to pretend to be protectors rather than the predators they often turn out to be.
No, I’m not bitter at all.
“Now, don’t be like that…” he drawls. “You’re clearly lost. Come back to my camp site… we’ll get you fed and warmed up and then we can head out in the morning.”
Who iswe? Does he have others with him, or does he mean theroyal we? Maybe he’s fine. Maybe he’s camping with people… menandwomen. If there are other women—couples—maybe it would be safe to go with him. But that prickle at the back of my neck tells me this guy did not come here with friends. And if he did, that only makes things worse—not better.
“No, I’m fine, really,” I say. I take a few more steps back. He takes a few steps closer. I take a few steps back. He takes a few steps closer.
He knows exactly what he’s doing as he shines the flashlight on me. It’s a game to him, like a cat playing with a mouse before eating it. I can’t see his face, but I can hear his smile when he says, “Don’t you worry, I’ll protect you from the bears.”
I pull out my bear spray, but he bats it out of my hand. His flashlight shining right in my face is doing me no favors for visibility of my situation. I take off my backpack and throw it at him, turn, and run.
My ID is in that bag. I really don’t need him to have that bag, but I can’t carry it and run at the same time, and the immediate problem is a stranger in the woods chasing me—not any future stalking worries. One problem at a time.
The only reason I can even see where I’m going is the flashlight he’s shining in my direction as he chases me. The lightwavers back and forth in front of my path matching the rhythm of his strides. He’s not in great shape, but still, he’ll catch me.
I try to think. I have no other weapons on me, the spray was it. My cell phone is in my pocket, but the last time I checked there was no reception out here. I pull it out anyway as I run and glance down… praying somehow I can get a couple of bars and call 911. Though I know they won’t get to me in time, so what does it matter?
Tears cloud my vision. No bars—just like earlier when I first got lost. There were a lot of fallen leaves on the trail, and I took a wrong turn into what was actually the larger forest and not the continuation of the trail, and I haven’t been able to find my way back to the path.
And all I’m doing is running deeper into a forest I don’t know in the middle of the night with a mad man chasing me. What are the odds of that?
I trip over a tree root, and my cell phone goes flying out of my hand. A moment later he’s on top of me. He flips me over as I struggle.
“Get the fuck off of me!”
“This doesn’t have to be violent,” he says.
The bile rises in my throat and I wonder if I can make myself puke and if that will dissuade him off his course and kill the disgusting boner pressing through his pants against my thigh.
Doesn’t have to be violent.This piece of shit. There are a million ways I wish I had the strength to overpower and kill this man.
I scream and squirm and manage to knee him in the groin. I roll back over onto my stomach to get up, but he grabs me by the ankle I sprained when my foot caught on the tree root. I howl in pain and try to kick him in the face with my uninjured foot, but he easily avoids the blow and drags me back to him.
