The Bear With No Name (4 page)

“With me here is our town emergency planning team, plus Officers Brown and Kennedy of the Green County Sheriff’s Department. We have two priorities right now: the first is two ensure that all our residents have access to food, water, shelter and medical care. Please, everybody, check in with us before you leave this meeting. We’ll be doing door-to-door checks on all properties that don’t have a resident present here. Please let us know if you have any special needs, and let us know about any neighbors you’re concerned for.

“Our second priority is monitoring the culverts along Town Creek, especially at Carter Street. The Carter Street culvert is already starting to clog with debris both upstream and downstream, and if that happens, flooding could extend all the way up to Fourth Street on this side of the creek, and up to Wagner & Reynolds on the other side. And if the culverts wash out, the town will be cut in half.”

“I live on Fourth,” Lauren whispered. David reached out and took her hand.

The mayor continued, “Anyone displaced by the flooding is welcome to shelter here or at town hall next door. Again, please check in here before you leave, and talk to any of these individuals to sign up for volunteering with the door-to-door checks, the emergency shelter, or monitoring the culverts overnight. I know we’ve already talked to many of you who own heavy equipment or other important resources, but if we haven’t gotten to you yet, come see me. Any questions?”

The first few hands that went up were just people with generators, offering to help charge lanterns and other small devices.

But then a well-dressed older woman stood up and said, “And while we’re talking about dangers, don’t forget about that bear!” Her voice quavered, as if she were on the edge of panic.

At the front, Fran rolled her eyes, an expression that she obviously intended for everyone to see.

“Well now, Alicia,” she said in an exaggerated rural accent that was nothing like how she’d sounded to Lauren just that morning, “I know that you city people aren’t used to seeing any wildlife bigger than a rat, but I can assure you that bear was just as scared of you as you were of it.”

“Bull. Crap.” Alicia leaned forward, gesturing aggressively. “That bear chased me all the way across my garden and into my house, then it tried to get in! You can come see the claw marks on my kitchen door! And I know I’m not the only person who’s seen it in the past week!” At that, there was some murmuring throughout the church. “And you want us all wandering around out in the dark, checking on shut-ins and watching the river? Not on your life. I wouldn’t set foot outside after dark without a gun, not until that bear is found!”

“Heaven knows I support the right of every honest citizen to defend herself with firearms as necessary – even citizens who just moved here from New Jersey. But I suspect that you with a gun would be a bigger danger to your neighbors than to any bear, because I’m not convinced you know which way to point the damn thing!”

Fran’s zinger got a bit of a laugh from the crowd as Mayor Hampton tried to get the meeting back on track.

“I can assure you ladies, we have public safety under control,” he said, and after a few less provoking questions from the assembled citizens, the meeting concluded.

“Should we go sign up for a job?” David asked, giving her hand a last, reassuring squeeze before letting go.

“Of course, but I want to talk to Mrs. R first and see if she wants us to move any of her things, just in case.”

It took a while to make it to the front of the church. When Pete saw them, his face contorted in guilt and dismay.

He clapped David on the shoulders and said, “Man, I am so, so sorry I stranded you here.”

“I’m not sorry at all. I’m glad I could be here to help, and glad that I didn’t tear you away from your family. I’ll probably need to borrow some more clothes, though.”

“Of course, anything you need. If I’m not home, Julie will set you up.” Then he eyed David more critically and said, “You’re looking a lot better than you were this morning.”

“Maybe I heal fast?”

“And we figured out that his name is David,” Lauren added.

“Thanks, David.” Pete shook his hand.

Then the press of people moved them on to the old ladies with their clipboards.

“Oh there you are, dear!” said Mrs. Randall. “I was hoping to find you.”

“Do you want us to move anything for you?” Lauren asked.

“Just a few items. But it would be easier to show you than to try to describe them.”

“Go ahead and take my bike, Dottie, you’ll get back faster,” said Fran.

“Thank you, Frances.”

Lauren signed up to help with breakfast at the shelter the next day, then followed Mrs. Randall outside, where her neighbor hopped astride an aging Schwinn, wedged her cane in the basket, and took off.

“See you kids at the house!” she called over her shoulder.

Lauren and David paused to watch her somewhat wobbly progress for a moment.

“Do you think I should warn her that hip fractures can be dangerous at her age?” David asked.

“Nope. I think she’s got everything under control.”

Chapter 7

As they headed back toward the house, David noticed the sky brightening as the last storm clouds blew away. Life had been so confusing and eventful since he first woke up on the river bank, it took him a moment to figure out that it was still mid-afternoon of that same day.

When they reached Mrs. Randall’s apartment, she had already assembled two plastic totes and a fireproof box.

“If you could carry these items up to your apartment, plus my grandmother’s writing desk, I’d be very grateful. None of the rest of the furniture is sentimental, so your time would probably be better spent helping people who live closer to the creek than hauling all this worn-out stuff upstairs. But there are also some things you could move for me in the kitchen.”

They followed her toward the back of the apartment.

“Have either of you ever used an oil lamp?” she asked, pointing to an old-fashioned glass and metal contraption on her kitchen table.

“Not that I’m aware of,” said David with a little smile.

“Me neither,” said Lauren, smiling back at him.

“Then we’re better off sticking with flashlights.”

Mrs. Randall handed each of them a flashlight and then opened what looked like a closet door. Inside was a huge pantry with floor to ceiling shelves laden with enough canned goods and dry goods to last one woman for weeks.

“Mrs. R! Are you some sort of prepper or what?” said Lauren admiringly.

Mrs. Randall sniffed, “In my day we just called it Yankee self-reliance. Anyway, if you could move the food off the lower shelves onto my kitchen counters, that would be very helpful too. Especially the home-canned items. I’d be willing to eat something out of a tin can that had been underwater, but I wouldn’t trust the seal on my strawberry jam
quite
that far.”

After Mrs. Randall left, it only took them half an hour to move her things. Looking at the stacks of bright red jam jars, David’s stomach rumbled so loudly that Lauren heard it and laughed.

“I guess a mug of soup doesn’t go very far for someone your size! Let’s go see what needs to be used up first in the fridge.”

Upstairs in Lauren’s kitchen, she opened the fridge just long enough to pull out some Chinese leftovers and sandwich fixings, including six different jars of mustard and hot sauce.

“Sorry, I’m a condiment addict,” she joked. “Got a favorite here?”

“Surprise me.”

Lauren fixed plates for them both, then said “Hey, want to eat out on the porch? I sort of want to know what’s going on.”

They settled onto the front steps with their meal. Every person walking past said hi, and many stopped to chat (and to sample the potato chips that Lauren offered). After most of the conversations, Lauren introduced both herself and David to the neighbor they’d been talking to.

After one woman with a toddler moved on, David asked about that.

“It seems like a really small town. But you don’t actually know most of the people?”

“Not really. I recognize a lot of the faces; I think there’s only like 500 people who live here. But I’m at work most of the time, and a lot of the other park staff live in Sheldon, or over the mountain in Kirk. So if we go hang out after work, we don’t come here to Ashton very often – unless people are in the mood for waffles, because the Coffee Cup’s are absolutely the best.”

“So does this place feel like home to you?”

“No? Yes? I don’t know. I know the mountains feel like home. At first I only knew them from skiing, and back then they were definitely not home-like at all. We went skiing every winter when I was a kid, and all my parents and older brothers cared about was who could ski the most difficult runs in the fastest time. And believe me, I have never been built for speed. And then as we got older there was always drama with kids from school staying at the various lodges … just a big bunch of no fun. So the mountains were just like stage scenery to me then, a painted winter backdrop.

“But when I went to Barrington for college, that’s when I got to explore them in my own way and really get to know them. The trees, the animals, the cycle of the seasons … it was like learning to speak a foreign language, but I think I’m fluent now. There are a lot of things I miss about the city, but I don’t know if I could ever give up the mountains again.”

David wondered if he had a home somewhere that he felt that way about. He tried to imagine yearning to return somewhere, but the only images that came to mind for him were the same images that Lauren’s answer had evoked: wooded stream banks garlanded with moss and ferns, and deep forest glades where the ground was padded with centuries of fallen leaves.

They cleaned up from their meal then headed downhill toward the creek that fed into the raging river.

A man they passed heading the other way said, “It looks like the river’s crested already, thank god, so if we don’t get more rain the worst is probably over.”

But as Lauren knocked on doors asking people if they wanted help, they found plenty of people who still wanted to move some possessions out of their basements or ground floors, just in case.

It was a strange afternoon. Everyone was kind and friendly and there was lots of laughter and joking around as they worked, but in quiet moments he would sometimes catch the townspeople looking just as lost and confused as he felt. He realized that their situation wasn’t so different from his own: even those who hadn’t physically lost their homes and belongings in the flood had lost their usual way of living, and no one knew what would happen next.

Word was passed around town that dinner would be a giant cook-out on Main Street, with everyone grilling up the meat that would spoil without refrigeration. Lauren didn’t have any to contribute, so she brought along all the yogurt from her fridge to share instead.

Ella came by and snagged it all, asking, “Is it okay if I put this on ice for the shelter breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure! But where are you getting ice?”

“Our ice maker was full when the power went out – it’ll last at least a day before it all melts, and the emergency team is thinking about asking someone with a generator to keep it going, so that everyone can keep some food in coolers.”

The cook-out turned into a party. Everyone’s mood rose as the water levels fell, and the overwhelming fear-scent was gone. David greeted all the people he’d met that day as they wandered past, but none of them held his attention the way that Lauren did. She was like a splash of color in a world of black and white, so bold and funny and determined. And so alive to everything around her, letting every feeling play out across her beautiful face.

He could see that some people, like Ella and Pete, agreed with him about how special Lauren was, because their faces brightened whenever they were near her. But plenty of other people seemed to look right past her like she was just part of the scenery. Part of David wanted to grab those people and shake them and tell them what fools they were – but part of him was just grateful to have Lauren to himself.

As the sun set and the moon rose, nighthawks fluttered over Main Street feasting on moths and mosquitoes. The party broke up, and David and Lauren strolled home (
her
home, he reminded himself, not his, even though it was the only home he knew).

“Goodnight, kids!” Mrs. Randall called through her closed door when she heard their footsteps in the foyer. “I think we’ll all stay dry tonight!”

“Goodnight, Mrs. R!” said Lauren as they ascended.

Once they reached her apartment, Lauren fumbled with the candle and matches that she’d left by the door. Suddenly David heard the sound of a tiny sob. He looked and saw Lauren with her hands pressed to her mouth, her shoulders shaking silently.

“What happened?” he asked as he gently pulled her toward him.

“Nothing,” she sniffled. “Just this day. It all just hit me at once.”

Lauren pulled back a little, and David could see she was trying to put her brave face back on.

“It’s okay to be tired,” he told her. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed.”

“Is it?” she asked him. “Because I really, really am.” Her words turned into sobs at the end, and she didn’t stop him from pulling her closer and enfolding her in his arms.

She nestled against him, warm and trusting, and he leaned down to nuzzle her hair, as he’d been dreaming of doing all day. He only intended to comfort her, as he stroked up and down her back and pressed kisses to her hair. But then his hand found the curve of her hip, and then Lauren shifted and pressed into his grasp, and suddenly his every nerve was alive to every point of contact between them.

He tilted her face up and kissed her tears away, slowly and gently, pausing between each kiss to give her time to change her mind. Lauren clung to him more tightly, pulling his hips to hers. The pressure against his cock was electric.

Finally he kissed her lips. Her mouth opened hungrily as she whimpered. He tasted her, savored her, as their kisses grew deeper and more desperate. The soft fullness of her breasts crushed against him was maddening.