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If e around intheed breath, I lie back on round is hard and cold beneath ht tuain by everything that just happened And then there’s my dad Does everyone in Melita Hills know about him? Are Mom and I the only ones who’ve been in the dark? Jesus How stupid are we? An e stabs my chest, and I wish Mom were here now, so I could talk to her Or maybe so she could talk to lasses and wiggle into ly synthetic, like nylon and plastic Maybe I have it zipped up too tightly Should I open a vent flap? What if the bear comes back and smells me in here, like he smelled Brett’s cookies?
I decide that it doesn’t ht Getting up early All that hiking The antihistae of sleep, and after a while, I stop fighting I just let it take me under
When I wake, the inside of the tent is pale gray and chilly My fingers and nose are Popsicles, and when I try to move, I realize I fell asleep inabout that rock beneath the tent, and now
On top of all that, I had weird dreams about Lennon Very screwed up, very erotic drea that bear, and dear God, why isto do with Brett’s co a torch forany sort of torch for me And how could he be, really, because I’s I’ o back to sleep so that I can maybe redo those dreams in a different, nonerotic direction But I sit up to check my hives--present, but under control--and soon realize I have to pee Badly There’s roo position, but I can’t really stand in here, so after rulasses, I crawland unzip ray outside, but ais damp, and the subtle scent of pine fills my nostrils when I walk I’ve never beenof the bear, eyes flicking to every bird call, every rustling leaf I don’t see anyone No bear, no people Just the flattened husk of Brett’s destroyed tent next to Reagan’s
After a trek into the forest to relieve e back to the base caht’s fight seizes an or Brett It takes me several panicked heartbeats to clear away the antihista the rocks from the opposite bank, a hatchet holstered to his hip and an armful of firewood When he spots me, he lifts his head briefly, and I’m surprised how relieved I feel to see him
Don’t think about the erotic bear drearanite shelter area, and I catch up with hiathered firewood near the pit When his back is toover his hoodie It’s studded with horror-movie patches and enamel pins shaped like toe
"Hey," I say "Guess we’re the only people up, huh?"
"Yes and no" He squats near the pit to arrange tinder in the center, bark and dead leaves
"What do you"You sound slow"
"Antihista up?"
"Sort of What do you hs "Over there, on the bear canisters"
They’re stacked in a row near the boulders ere using for seats, along with so under a rock Soe in what appears to be eyeliner It’s Reagan’s handwriting I remove the rock and read the note:
Find your oay hoain, but it’s still notsense Did they? I mean, are we?
"They left us," Lennon finally says