I’m trying to rack my brain for any useful information on how to deal with bears but find none, because, guess what? I’ve never seen one in real life before. All the animals I’ve seen have been cute and fluffy with way smaller teeth. I’ve never even been to the zoo! I know how to deal with snakes and other slithery stuff, but not bears. Do I run? Do I scream? Do I cry?
I cry. Yes, I cry! He’ll get ashamed and leave me alone. That should work.
The bear’s standing about thirty feet away from me, tilting his head and opening his big mouth. Saliva drips from his enormous teeth, the roar reaches my ears, and I start crying on cue.
I didn’t get that far from the car, and this is my last chance. Slowly backing those two or whatever feet that separate me from the driver’s side, I hit my ass on the door, closing it shut.
No, no, no!
Behind my back, I feverishly attempt to find the handle. When I feel it with my hands, I let out a loud sigh, making the bear slowly move forward again. Toward me.
I keep pulling the handle, but it’s stuck. It fucking stuck! Just my luck—to die on Maine land, covered in the Maine soil, mauled by a Maine bear. Very poetic.
Sudden headlights blind the bear, and he turns his head to the side, shutting his eyes and forcefully shaking his head with visible aggravation. I almost feel bad for him. Almost. Turning toward the light, I find a car approaching us with speed, illuminating the large animal in front of me.
Please, please, help me!I silently beg whoever’s coming. I don’t want to die here today. Or in the next fifty years. I want to grow old and wrinkly while talking shit about my second cousin who stole my boyfriend right before the prom since people are allowed not to have a filter in their old age, and I’ve got a lot to say.
The bear lets out a loud roar and rises on his rear legs. Paws? Feet? Limbs?
The car visibly speeds up and comes to a screeching stop past mine, right between the bear and me. And then I recognize the police cruiser.
A huge mass of sheriff jumps out of the open door and rushes to take a stand between us. He takes a gun out of his holster and brings his arms up in the air. His shoulders and chest visibly widenevenmore as he lets out a loud growl. Was it the bear? I blink, confused for a moment. No, it’s the sheriff.
The bear moves on his rear limbs and lets out a roar of his own. Sheriff leans his upper body forward, showing off his muscles like a wrestler, and roars back. He starts waving his arms, appearing even bigger in size. I’d find his actions hilarious if he weren’t standing between me and that big, salivating mouth wanting to taste some of my yummy, pizza-grown flesh.
The bear makes some sort of rumbling noise, lands back on all his paws, and turns around. Skittering back into the forest, he disappears behind the bushy evergreen a moment later. Once he’s out of sight, Sheriff starts slowly backing toward me, keeping his watchful eye on where the bear disappeared.
When he’s sure the bear is gone, he holsters his gun and turns to me.
I must look terrible because his forehead wrinkles with concern.
“Are you okay?” His voice comes out scratchy and a bit breathless.
“I—” I try to say something but fail, so I just nod instead. My fingers are still glued to the door handle, and my shoulder hurts because I’ve been holding my stiff arm behind my rigid back for too long.
“Did he get you?” His eyes quickly run over my body, looking for damage.
I shake my head, still unable to talk.
“Josie?” he asks in a gentle voice, and I look at his face. “Are you okay?”
I let out a loud sigh, and tears start streaming down my face. I wipe them away with my hands, remembering too late that they’re covered in mud, and now I look even more like a fucking mess. So I start crying harder. Soon, the crying turns into a hiccuping hysteria I can’t stop. My feet are bare, and more than half of my body is covered in dirt. My favorite shoes that I can never buy again are forever buried in the dirt, I have no one but Alicia here, and I almost got eaten by a bear.
No, I’m not fine.
I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice that the sheriff has walked up to me. I notice him only when his strong arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me into him. My face squishes into his chest while my arms get smooshed between us.
“It’s okay, Josie,” he whispers with reassurance, awkwardly patting my back.
And I cry harder. I just can’t stop at this point. I free my hands from the prison of our bodies and wrap them around his torso, pressing myself harder into his firm and very warm chest. He is so large and safe that he’s my lifeline right now, even though I didn’t like him a few hours ago. But he saved me, and now he’s offering me mental support so I don’t go off the rails. And I’m very close to doing just that. The rails are right there—I can see them.
I don’t know how long we’ve been standing like this, but eventually my tears die down and hiccups subside. I take a last deep breath and pull away.
And then I see it. He’s covered in mud now too.Mymud. His pristine uniform is not so pristine anymore. Huge chunks of mud are stuck to his cheek and chin—it must have gotten there from my hair.
“I’m sorry.” I sniffle, nearly crying again.
“For what?” he asks, confused.
