Page 38 of Bear Strength

“Yes,” I nod. “Here.”

She takes it into her hands, like a trembling little kitten, careful not to hurt it. She opens the first page and sees the scribbles.

“Wait, this….” she gasps when she recognizes the signature. “He signed this!?”

“Yes,” I confirm, happy with the reaction I caused.

“I can’t accept this,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “This is too much. Do you know how much this is worth?”

“I don’t care about the financial worth of a book,” I explain. “To me, a book is worth whatever someone decides it’s worth. And, to you, it is priceless. I can see that.”

“It’s amazing,” she whispers.

Her fingers trail the embossed leather cover, the gold plated title. She opens it and flips through the pages, enjoying the smell. There is no such thing as the smell of old books. It brings me joy that I found someone who enjoys it as much as I do.

“Then, please accept it as a gift.”

She eyes the book again, unable to believe that such a piece of treasure has fallen into her hands. I could watch her expression all day long. I wouldn’t get tired of it.

“Are you sure?” she asks again.

“Of course,” I assure her.

Once this pleasant exchange is done, I can’t but feel somewhat awkward. Wagner often tells me that’s how I make other people feel, but I don’t get that impression. I simply say what is. I don’t beat around the bush. It’s true that I find it difficult to trust someone.

Mason asked me if I trust Danica. My reply was that it’s not whether we trust her. It’s whether she trusts us. He didn’t see it that way at first.

“Well, now I have to get you something, too,” she tells me, blushing.

“I don’t need anything, thank you.”

“Well, none of us really needs anything, apart from food and clean air, right?” she laughs. Her laughter sounds like the chiming of a thousand little church bells, from afar, followed by a choir of song birds. “I’ll come up with something. Are you hungry?”

“No, I should be going. The only reason I stayed longer and enjoyed your hospitality was to make sure Dominick wasn’t alone.”

“That’s sweet of you, thank you, Adrian.”

“My pleasure.”

I say goodbye to both of them, and head over to the door.

“Hey, Adrian?”

I hear her shout after me. I turn around. She comes at me with arms wide open and she hangs them around my neck. She smells like a dying man’s last meal, the one he’s wanted all his life, the one he never wants to finish.

I can feel the tip of her nose pressed to my neck. She squeezes me for a single moment, then lets go. I didn’t even have time to put my arms around her. She’s gone already.

“Thank you,” she repeats. “I mean it.”

“I know you do,” I smile as much as my scar allows me.

Every time I smile, I instinctively reach for it. Like an itch that never goes away, no matter how hard you scratch at it. But, this time I resist the sensation. I let it run its course, while I focus on Danica’s smile, on her perfect teeth, her fully round lips. I haven’t seen her with her hair down yet. She must be even more stunning.

“Good night,” I tell her finally, not wanting to overstay my welcome.

As I walk over to my bike, I hear laughter inside of my head. Fingers are pointing at me, teeth bared. It’s all a game to them. My life. A freak. I’ve lived in the conviction that no one could ever care for me. No one would ever accept me as I am. And yet, Mason has. Wagner has. I finally belong. Only, there is one thing missing, always missing.

I turn around one last time and raise my hand. She is standing on the doorway, leaning against it. She looks so small. So fragile. I always know when someone carries a burden. We all have our crosses to bear. Hers seems much heavier than she herself can endure. I want to be there for her. I want to take some of that burden away, and make her feel safe again.

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