A Bear's Journey by Dakota West

Author:Dakota West [West, Dakota]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

Olivia slept for almost twelve hours, until nearly noon. After the sun came up she was vaguely aware of her mom, her dad, and her papa opening her bedroom door just a crack to check on her, but she dozed off again before she could do or say anything.

When she woke up, she realized that her knees and hands were still dirty. She’d gone straight to bed without brushing her teeth.

It was a bad habit to get into — her therapist was always telling her that keeping even the little human rituals would make her feel more human — but she’d promised herself that she’d only do it once. It was a good thing, too, because her mouth tasted like a sewer.

She pulled on pajamas, went to the bathroom, walked out of her room and into the kitchen. It was Sunday, so the library was closed and she didn’t have work. Mom was already in the kitchen.

Olivia watched as she got onto a step ladder and took ceramic figurines down from where they usually stayed on top of the cabinets, and dunked them into soapy water in the sink.

Her stomach tightened. A deep cleaning of the kitchen only ever meant one thing: her mom was upset about something.

“Good morning,” she said, tentatively.

Is it because I slept in? She wondered, feeling self-conscious about her pajamas. I was really, really tired.

Her mother looked over her shoulder, sighed, and spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said.

“Sorry I slept in so late,” she said.

“It’s okay,” said her mother, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She walked over to Olivia and gave her daughter a hug. “I’m just glad you’re back safe.”

“What’s wrong?” Olivia asked, hugging her mom back.

Instead of answering, her mom squeezed a little tighter, then released her.

“It’s in the paper, honey,” her mom said, her hands still squeezing Olivia’s upper arms.

No.

Please no.

Olivia swallowed and felt the tears rising into her eyes, despite herself.

“Where?” she whispered.

Her mom just guided her to the kitchen table, where the newspaper lay in half disarray. She could still read the headline perfectly well, though:

FERAL BEAR ATTACKS; RUNS

Olivia dropped into the chair, staring at the headline.

Below it was a picture of Buck, posing on his ranch, next to her high school senior portrait, taken only a few months before she’d gone feral.

“That’s not what happened,” she said. “I didn’t attack. I didn’t hurt anybody, I just charged but then I stopped myself.”

Her breathing got faster, and she could almost hear herself getting hysterical.

“I didn’t hurt anybody,” she repeated again.

“I know,” her mom said, bending down and holding her daughter in her arms. “I know, I know.”

“Being feral was so much easier,” said Olivia.

Now she was full-on crying, right on the edge of huge, heaving sobs.

“Don’t say that,” her mom said.

“It was,” Olivia said. “I just had to eat berries and bugs and shit, nobody was all concerned about how I acted every day, and I didn’t have to remember how to make small talk or buy cardigans because that’s what it seems like librarians should wear.

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