Page 81 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
“I’d rather go home than have you get hurt.”
He kissed me gently. Sweetly. Too quickly. “I’m not ready to go home either.”
Before I could say anything more, he sneaked toward the shelter, making as little noise as possible.
Our campsite looked ransacked—pots upended and dented, our fire pit crushed flat, the clothesline torn down and splintered. The door had been ripped off and lay in scattered pieces on the ground.
The bear couldn’t be that big if it managed to get in our shelter—which was a good sign that it was a black bear, and we could scare it off. Hopefully.
Bennett edged closer, near enough to peer through the chinks in the logs. “Hey!” he shouted. “Get out of here!”
A loud clatter sounded, and the entire wall of our shelter shook.
“Bennett!” I yelled as one side of it began to tilt. “It’s going to fall!”
He braced his shoulder against it, but the other side was pulling apart as well. The bear was probably in a panic and going to take our shelter down with it. I raced to hold up the other side, but the bear continued to throw its body against it, like it was going to push itself out through the sides.
“Go!” Bennett yelled again at the bear, and its movements increased.
I stuck my hand through the opening. “This way!” I said, trying to sound friendly and calm, like with my dogs.
“Are you trying to be bait?” Bennett said, incredulous.
“No. I’m guiding him out!”
“With your body!”
“I have nothing else!” I defended.
He began to clap near the back of the shelter, and after another scramble, an adorable black head popped out of the opening. If this bear weren’t dangerous with the potential to hurt or really kill me, or also risk everything we were doing out here by ripping through our shelter, I would have melted. It was fluffy and about my height.
Okay, I was melting anyway.
Why were black bears so cute?Why?What evolutionary purpose did that fill?
“Charlie, move back!” Bennett clapped and whistled in his efforts to scare the bear off.
“If I move, this wall will come down.”
“I don’t want you near him. A scared bear is unpredictable.”
“But our shelter!”
“Please,” he said, and the pleading in his tone made me pause. He didn’t want me to get hurt—sounded terrified by the idea.
“Okay.” I backed up and moved quickly toward the trees. As soon as I did, the wall I was holding up buckled and fell outward. The bear pushed even harder against it, and it collapsed to the side.
In a blind panic, the bear lumbered toward me. It wasn’t quite as cute when I felt like I was going to be its next meal. I screamed, and Bennett raced toward me, vaulting over fallen logs, trying to get between me and the bear. He tripped over a log and fell, landing with a heap and a grunt.
“Make yourself big. Yell!” Bennett said through panting breaths as he went to stand up.
I could do this. I had to. I threw my hands up and started to scream at the bear. “Go away! Find your family! Be free! I taste like garbage! The bad kind bears don’t like!”
The bear skirted past me and darted into the forest. I wouldn’t be surprised if its heart was racing as fast as mine.
“I think he’s gone,” Bennett said.
We surveyed the destruction of our shelter. Only one wall remained upright, and it was listing dangerously forward. The tarp we were using as a roof was shredded in the corners. Bennett’s duffel bag had been ripped open, his clothes strewn everywhere.
