The Not-Bear [Part 1] | novella
Four summer campers find themselves lost in the woods of Northern California. It soon becomes clear that something else is watching over them. Part 1 or 2.
1. Oh, way out there.
“The other day!”
The other day.
“I met a bear!”
I met a bear.
“Out in the woods!”
Out in the woods.
“Oh, way out there!”
Oh, way out there.
“The bear saw Henry standing there!”
Henry mumbled his part of the call-and-response in the late morning heat as the camp counselor looked back over his shoulder at the thin twelve-year-old. He smiled meekly, his light brown skin momentarily flushed with embarrassment.
Only when Sean, their burly, overly-cheerful guide, had turned his back to the campers again did Henry take the liberty of rolling his dark brown eyes in Myles’ direction. He was the same age as Henry, though slightly taller and just as thin. The boys had first met at camp three summers ago and became fast friends.
Their hiking troupe had left the rabble of lakeside cabins — what Henry remembered as Camp Gaoh last year, but now had no name after undergoing what his parents called a rebranding — yesterday morning. This was the second day of a three day hike on the Long Trail that would take them through a patch of woods on the edge of Shasta National Forest in Northern California. They spent the first night near to the lake in case anyone had any trouble. Be it night terrors, homesickness, or a tummy ache.
The kids were arranged single file behind their jovial camp counselor, with Henry (unfortunately) first behind him, then Rus, the youngest, Tildé, the oldest, and Myles. Myles hid his snickering face when Henry pretended to barf. Tilde shook their head, while Rus ignored all of them.
“It looked at him!” Sean continued
It looked at him, the campers murmured.
“It looked at me!”
It looked at me.
“Come on, y’all! Louder!” Sean hollered.
The three anticipated Rus would take up his command with an eager shout.
“It sized us up!”
It sized us up! Sure enough, Rus was the loudest among them.
“But we couldn’t see!”
But we couldn’t see!
“The bear saw Tairus standing there!”
“It’s just Rus,” the boy groveled, shrinking. That was the second time he had attempted to correct him.
“Just get used to it,” Tildé said, slapping the boy’s shoulder. “But, like, don’t actually.”
“It said to us!” Sean continued on as though he had not heard them.
It said to us!
“‘Why don't you run?’”
‘Why don’t you run?’
“‘For none of you’”
‘For none of you.’
“‘Have any gun.’”
‘Have any gun.’
“For none?” Myles questioned. “Isn’t that, like, four nothings?”
“Shut up, Myles,” Henry said playfully.
“What? I just want to know how many nothings there are. If there’s four, that’s enough for all of us. Everyone gets nothing! You get a nothing. And you get a nothing. And you—”
“Shut up!” Tildé demanded, not at all playful, turning to intimidate him. They pretended to lunge at Myles, and the boy leapt backwards.
The two of them had been testing each other’s nerves since before they left camp. But Myles knew not to mess with a kid almost a foot taller than he was.
“The bear saw Matildé standing there!” Sean sang.
“Ugh!” Tildé adjusted their backpack with frustration, while Myles jogged to catch up to the troupe. A snaggletoothed grin marked his face.
Henry smiled too, but for a different reason.
Henry knew that Myles actually was afraid of Tildé. Both boys had befriended them last year, when they weren’t the size they are now, and Myles had been afraid of them then. But Henry suspected it was something other than fear.
The last night they were at the lake, Henry told Myles that Tildé had been his first kiss. Last year, behind the boathouse, when everyone else was canoeing. That was before Tildé began transitioning, not that Henry cared. He admired them then the same way he admired them now, though that crush was crushed that same summer.
“Yo, Sean!” Myles called ahead. “You don’t have a gun?”
Sean guffawed just as he was rearing up to begin singing again. Henry, for a moment, was thankful his friend had saved them all from that. At least for a little while.
“You know I don’t, Myles,” Sean said with heavy sarcasm.
“Not even in that fanny pack?”
This time, even Rus snickered.
“Camp counselors don’t carry guns,” Sean said with finality. He then removed the baseball cap that still displayed the camp’s old insignia on the front, wiped sweat away from his receding hairline, and tucked his long blonde hair behind his ears. He dramatically removed a pair of pink sunglasses from said fanny pack and proudly placed them on his face.
“Well, I heard,” Myles continued, “that the woods was dangerous.”
“All woods are dangerous,” Rus said dismissively.
“No, I mean these woods. I heard weird stuff happens out here…”
“Like what?” Rus asked, suddenly sounding interested.
“Well, I heard… a few people… have gone missing.”
“Don’t listen to him, Rus.” Henry already knew where this was going.
“I’m serious! My moms said to be careful. Some girl went for a hike by herself and didn’t come back. Had the whole state looking for her.”
“That was in the seventies,” Tildé protested.
“No one goes off by themselves,” Sean said passively.
“There was a hunter, too. Outdoorsman like. Knew these woods since he was a kid. Dude had a rifle and everything! He was in a hunting party. Chased a buck. Was never seen again.”
“People get lost all the time,” Rus said, but there was no confidence in his voice. Henry grabbed his arm. He tried to convince the boy not to get into an argument with Myles, because Myles would never stop.
“It wasn’t just them! A whole bunch of people went missing. My dad said so. He said weird shit happens out here all the time.”
“Stop cussing!” Sean snapped.
“Lights in the sky. People disappearing. Haints. Cryptics.”
“Cryptids!” Henry corrected him, immediately regretting it.
“Yeah! Weird stuff! My dad said this place has a name.”
“What’s that?”
“Rus!” Tildé scolded him.
“Trinity Triangle!”
“Boy!” Tildé turned to intimidate Myles once again.
“Alright. That’s enough. Listen up, kiddos.” Sean ceased the group’s march abruptly.
The children nearly toddled into each other, watching their lone counselor bring their trek to a sudden halt. Sean itched his thin blonde beard before offering a shallow sigh.
“We teach campers not to lie, so I’m not going to lie to y’all… Yes, people have gone missing in Shasta. But on the other side of the forest. And yes, there was a string of missing persons in the seventies. A college student, a hunter, a little boy, an old woman. Ten in all. Mostly the same place. Deerfield Trail, near Soda Creek.
“As for the triangle, yeah. It’s called Trinity Triangle. Mount Shasta and Castle Crags. That’s what people can agree on. As for the other corner — y’all know a triangle has three corners, right?”
All four of them blinked.
“Alright, well, no one can agree on the other corner. Personally, I think it’s Black Butte. But, uh, I don’t really believe in that sorta stuff…”
“My moms says there’s a secret ammunitions plant hidden in the woods someplace,” Myles added.
“A what kind of plant?” Rus again.
“Munitions! Like, bullets and bombs and stuff. For the army. But my moms says they ain’t just making bombs. They’re doing secret government experiments! Time travel. Monsters from other dimensions. Aliens.”
“I don’t know about any—”
“Isn’t Mount Shasta hollow or something?” Tildé cut in.
“What?” Henry said, looking at Tildé with shock at their instigating.
Tildé shrugged.
“Who told you that?” Sean asked.
“Another counselor,” Tildé said. “Last year.”
“Around the fire,” Henry, figuring he was the odd one out, contributed. “Yeah. She said there was a city hidden inside the mountain.”
“Oh, right. Lemuria or whatever. I don’t know about all that, but I have heard about ghost towns abandoned in the forest.”
“Ghost towns?” They all said with more harmony than their call-and-response from before.
Sean grimaced. “Aw, geez… Alright, listen, kids. We’re not gonna talk about this anymore, alright? We have one more night out here together and then we hike back to our cabins. I don’t want y’all up all night with nightmares.
“Whatever happened, it’s in the past, and it happened on the other side of the woods. As long as we stick together — and stop fighting with each other — nothing is going to bother us. Nothing.”
“How many nothings?” Myles asked.
Sean took a long, deep breath. Then smiled.
Without another word, he turned on his boots and continued down the trail. The four campers looked at one another, falling on Myles’ smiling face for just a moment longer, before following the lone camp counselor.
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