Remember Me )))) THE KINGS OF SUMMER

Run

I can't move. I can't even blink. The only thing moving is my heart, which is beating so loud I swear the bear must hear it. The bear is not moving either. It's just...staring. After what feels like hours—but was probably seconds—I take one step backwards, afraid to turn my back. The bear responds by taking three steps towards me.

I'm stranded. The door to the house is too far away. I would never outrun the animal. Joe is sleeping—oblivious to the danger right outside his window. I rack my brain for any information on what to do in this situation. I remember watching a TV special when I was little girl that said you should scream and wave your arms—to try to scare the bear. With the look this bear is giving me, I doubt very much that it would work—but I have to do something.

I take a deep breath and scream—louder than I've ever screamed—and wave my arms back and forth above my head. If I were any other situation, I would feel like an idiot, but I'm too scared right now to care. The bear responds by roaring—showing off those massive teeth once more—and walking to me. Oookay, I guess that documentary lied...

I take some tentative steps backwards, but the bear is gaining on me—reducing the space between us by more every second. Suddenly, I hear Joe through the open kitchen window, "MJ, stay calm. I'll be right out."

"No, Joe, don't come out here." I was terrified, but the idea of Joe getting hurt was even worse. He doesn't listen to me. I can hear from behind me the front door slam close. The bear's head twitches to the side as Joe comes into it's view. I see him in my peripheral vision for only a second before he stands in front of me—between the bear and I. I see in his hand a Boston Market sack.

He's speaking to me but not taking his eyes off the bear, "MJ, when I tell you to run, run."

"What? No way, I'm not leaving you out here."

"Just do it. I'll be f-fine." His voice shakes on the last word. The bear is no more than fifteen feet away now.

Suddenly, he reaches his arm behind him and flings the bag toward the bear. I see baked chickens flying through the air and the sack landing to the right and slighting behind the bear. It turns away from us to inspect the savory-smelling object when Joe says, "Run."

I don't hesitate to grab his hand and pull him with me as I sprint to the door. His feet falter for a second before he falls into step behind me. I can hear the bear nosing through the plastic containers as we enter the house and slam the door. "Go upstairs," Joe commands.

I realize that I'm still holding the bucket of blackberries, so I set it on the floor. I see him run to the kitchen to grab his machete before following me up the ladder. Once we reach the top, I sit on our blankets, rocking myself. This is something I began doing as a child when I was scared. I hadn't done it in years—but I've also not been this scared in years.

Joe crawls over to the window to peer at the bear. I can't look. He begins giving commentary for the next thirty minutes. "He got to the chicken." "Oh God, there's a cub." "Now the cub's eating the chicken." "The chicken's gone. They're just walking around the yard." "They're going back into the trees."

He turns around to sit beside me, wrapping his arm over my shoulder. "They're gone." He brings his lips to my temple and says into my skin, "Wow. I've never been so scared in my life."

He pulls away and I look up at him. I want to thank him, but I can't speak. Instead, I rest my head against his shoulder.

He continues, "I wasn't even scared for myself. When I heard you scream, it felt like my world was shattering. When I looked outside and saw...saw..." He lifts his hand to wipe the tears that are now running down his face. "I'm so sorry, MJ, I should have protected you."