Piano Tide by Kathleen Dean Moore

Author:Kathleen Dean Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619028708
Publisher: Counterpoint
Published: 2016-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

THE BEAR BOLTED out of the trap through the door into the cistern, then braced to a stop, swinging her great head and stumbling over her cub, he was that close to her rear legs. She raised her snout, swaying back and forth, then rounded back to the door just as it slammed shut. Where is the smell of the other cub, the musk of milk and moss? The slam brought her up short. She rose on her hind legs and stretched to full height, pawed the air and roared.

“Drop that bar across the door and chain it good.”

The sow brought her head low, stiffened her front legs to raise her shoulders, and turned the full expanse of her shaggy flank toward the place where the shouts of men thudded into the wooden wall. She huffed and stamped, shaking her head, slinging saliva in long strings. Metal chains rapped metal. Moaning, the bear lunged along the side of the cistern, looking over her shoulder. The cub galloped along behind her.

This way, she extended the distance from the men, but even as she directed her course in a straight line, the wall turned her in, and in, and the farther she ran, the closer she came again to the smell of men and metal. She slowed, circled her cub, nudged him with her nose, then launched her weight against the door. A dull thud, shouts from men.

“She’ll kill herself against that wall.”

She reversed direction and quickened her pace, but the farther she ran in the curve of the cistern, the closer she came again to the smell of men. She smashed her shoulder into the door, then raised herself on back legs and let out a fearsome roar. Her claws tore against the wood.

“Stay back. Stay back,” men shouted.

She turned and galloped back the way she’d come. Each time she ran into the smell of the place the men had been, she stopped so suddenly that her paws skidded in the gravel and dug holes into the dirt. Finally, at the farthest reach from the door, she slowed, gathered her cub under her flank, backed into a rank of transplanted alders, and crouched by the wall.

A hank of deer meat fell on the bear’s hips. She lurched and spun around. The smell of blood, the smell of men and metal. She leapt from another thud, as a second chunk of meat dropped beside her. She backed from the meat, snarling. The cub sprinted away. Iron-red blood smell, crushed bones, gun oil, the salty-sour smell of men.

“She’ll eat when she’s hungry, I can money-back-guarantee you that.”

Backing farther into the alders, into the crackle of branches and flutter of falling leaves, she lay down heavily, her eyes on the group of men leaning over the edge above her. Mewling, the cub followed her in, circled her, nudged at her belly. As the cub took shelter beside her, the sow growled, a long steady unbroken growl, the rasp of rising wind.

Ravens lined the rim of the tank, black against gray sky.

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