The Dollhouse

Chapter 22

"WAIT," Samuel flung back his arm, halting me in my tracks.

Our boots crunching on the dead leaves, we had been hiking around the area in pursuit of some peace. The girls' high-pitched antics were relentless, tinny and constant - and the introvert in me found it draining. So when Sam announced he was going birdwatching, I stood up quickly; "mind if I come, too?"

He was one of those rare types of people who were comfortable with silence. I followed him through the trees and we talked a little. I looked a sight - the mosquito bites on my legs itched, my hair had darkened, flat with grease, and to top it off I crammed my long locks underneath a cap, revealing sunburned shoulders.

With the background of the stream trickling from afar, the trees rustled above as the birds hopped from branch to branch. White light streamed through the gaps, blinding us as we stumbled over the soft bed of the wood's ground, like God himself was gazing down on us.

My ears faintly ached. That morning, I'd thanked my lucky stars to find they weren't gungy with infection.

Sam would become a still as a statue. Often, in mid-motion; gazing intently through his pair of well-worn binoculars.

"What, is it that Acadian Flycatcher again?" I questioned patiently, folding my arms.

"I think you should remain very still and very quiet."

I peered through the trees.

A rounded, black mass was moving clumsily through the underbrush in the distance. What was that? Sam was completely immobilized beside me.

His hand remained outstretched to silence me. Then my vision adjusted. A black bear was sniffing around up ahead!

"Don't look back," I recalled the nature guides I had read on encountering wildlife. "We should move away slowly, before it sees us."

So we did. The dizzying sensation of adrenaline coursed through my arms and legs, making them shake. I kept my arms tightly folded, stepping over a log as Samuel followed suit. A twig snapped under his feet. But we kept our heads down for nearly ten minutes until we broke through into the camping clearing, then turned to each other with stunned hearts; "did you see that?"

Around the tents, the fire had collapsed into ash. Rudy raised his head, nodding at the sight of us striding over, a coffee clutched in his hand that strongly resembled the drab color of dishwater. A variety of breakfast condiments were left out on the table. A few bees lingered around the box of cornflakes, then the bread, before diving into an open jar of peanut butter.

Betsy and Nick had their backs to us. Nick was chopping firewood, and Betsy was standing all casual-like, hand on her hip. The wood was hacked to pieces - he really wasn't any good, but Nick was the type that was easily discouraged.

"What's up, losers?" I said breathlessly. "You'll never guess what we just saw in the woods! A proper honest-to-god black bear!"

When they turned around, the mood changed at once. Both of my friends straightened up a little too quickly. I got the vibe I had just interrupted a private conversation - Nick ruffled his already tousled hair, and Betsy's response was suspiciously delayed.

"Wait, a real bear? Are you sure Sam wasn't just screwing you around?"

Samuel was cleaning away the remains of the food into Tupperware containers. I, too, wouldn't think it wise to leave out any morsels to entice the creature to our grounds.

"No, I saw it with my own eyes..." I trailed off, eyes flickering between the two. "Anyways, what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, you know..."