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5

Marcella

S cratch-scratch-scrape. Scratch-scratch-scrape.

I pulled my sleeping bag up to my chin as I stared wide-eyed at the bedroom window. I’d been hearing that sound for the last ten minutes.

There was something outside the cabin, something big walking around the perimeter, its nails scraping over the boardwalk.

My mind said it was most likely a bear, which I knew there were plenty of in this part of the world before I’d made the trip. But a part of me had clearly been na?ve in thinking I’d never come across one.

The footsteps were heavy, intermittently stopping as if the animal were checking out something before it resumed. And then I heard it come closer.

Scratch-scratch-scrape. Scratch-scratch-scrape.

I white-knuckled the hell out of the sleeping bag. I’d bought a bear repellent air spray in town, not sure if it would even work, but I’d been so tired when I went to bed last night, I totally forgot to grab it and keep it close.

No amount of videos I’d watched online about taking precautions and being safe on this trip could prepare me for living it.

And then the thump-thump, thump-thump of its footsteps came closer before an enormous shadow passed across the bedroom window.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Ohshitshitshit.

I held my breath, pulled the sleeping bag up so that it completely covered my face and only my eyes were visible, and stared out the bedroom window.

That pane of glass wouldn’t keep anything out, especially a big ass Alaskan bear. Could it hear my heart racing? Oh God, couldn’t predators scent their prey’s fear?

I squeezed my eyes shut as I heard the big beast right outside the window, yet not coming close enough that I could make anything out. It was too dark, the shadows too thick.

I knew sleep was most definitely not an option tonight.

I was in a cranky mood and felt like shit as I shuffled out of the bedroom and veered right into the kitchenette.

The inside was cold as hell with the early morning frost lining the outside of the windows. Last night had been an epic fail of trial and error in lighting the wood-burning stove; but after far too many attempts, I finally got it working.

I grabbed a few pieces of cut lumber and got to work, starting another fire to warm the place up. Once it was going, I sat down in front of it and wrapped my sleeping bag fully around myself.

I was seriously rethinking this entire trip. After the bear incident last night, I realized I may have made a spur-of-the-moment decision regarding coming here without fully thinking it through.

I had no way of communicating with anyone if I needed help, and nobody would know if something happened to me until Harmond came and picked me up.

But despite worrying about all that, the fear I felt last night, and the reservations on what I’d actually been thinking about coming here, I was determined to make this the best experience possible.

Once I’d warmed up, I made a pot of coffee on the stove and sat back in front of the fire, holding the aluminum black and white speckled mug between my hands.

Falling back asleep after I heard the bear outside had been impossible. In fact, right now I was having serious reservations about stepping foot outside even if it was daylight and I was pretty sure it would be asleep by now.

But I couldn’t stay in the cabin my entire trip, and I didn’t want to be a prisoner while I was here, so I finished up my coffee and grabbed a quick breakfast. I got dressed, slipped on my red hooded peacoat, and then hesitantly opened the front door.

I peeked my head out but saw nothing destroyed, and when silence greeted me, I felt a little braver and stepped outside.

Because it was still early, the temperature was rather chilly, and I zipped up my jacket and put my hands in my pockets, stepping off the deck and rounding the corner of the house.

Again, I stopped and listened, but heard nothing, so I took the couple of steps it required to get on the boardwalk and made my way across the platform. Slowly.

Looking around the corner, where the bedroom window was and where I heard the bear most active, a part of me expected to see a large furry beast there, but it was empty.

I exhaled in relief, but felt my brows pull down a bit as my confusion rose. Moving closer to the window, I crouched down, reaching out and letting my fingers trail along the deep grooves that were etched into the wood.

They were big, deep and only something with sharp ass claws could create.

A shiver moved through me that had nothing to do with the temperature, and I stood, keeping the cabin to my back as I looked into the woods.

I was about to head back inside when I saw a trail that certainly wasn’t manmade. It flattened the foliage, as if something enormous had trampled through it.

God, this was an awful idea.

Yeah, there was no way I was exploring today.

I kept close to the cabin, only venturing as far as the shore in front. And as the day progressed and there were no signs of any bears, I felt more at ease.

I walked along the shore, saw seals in the distance as they popped their heads up before dipping back down.

I kept close to the cabin as I looked at all the wildlife and flora. There were so many types of mushrooms and fungi, and I’d been stupid enough to touch one, which resulted in my fingers burning afterward.

Note to self, keep your hands to yourself.

I saw mussels scattered along the edge of the water, their black shells shiny and clumped into bunches.

When I finished exploring, I sat in front of the fire pit and read for a while. The later it got, the chillier the air became, and I buttoned up my jacket and snuggled into it a little more, not quite ready to head inside and call it a night.

I stared off into the horizon, watching the sun sink down, the sky turning pretty shades of blues and oranges, pinks and yellows.

I only stayed out long enough that the sun almost disappeared in the distance before I rose and finally went inside. Although I felt comfortable and safe enough as the day progressed, the last thing I wanted to do was be outside at nightfall.

And the later it got, the more my anxiety rose. I remembered the bear outside the window. And because of my nerves, I finished half of one bottle of wine. And what do you know? That anxiety faded.

I fixed myself some dinner, settled into the small dining room chair, and used the battery operated radio that I’d brought to listen to some music. Figured I might as well get use out of it and not drain my cell battery, even if it didn’t have a signal.

I had a couple of lanterns on, with one on the table and another over by the couch. There was plenty of lighting, seeing as the cabin was small.

I was in the middle of my book; the scene getting especially spicy when I heard what was clearly two animals fighting right outside the cabin.

Knowing the wilderness enough from camping with my grandmother, I knew it sounded like two raccoons. Those feral, crazy little fuckers could get scrappy when they were fighting over a crumb of food.

They only went at it for a couple more seconds and after the silence descended, I went back to my book.

I heard them scurrying across the boardwalk around the house, their little nails scraping across the wooden planks.

I could hear them run off into the woods, the foliage being disturbed in their haste to escape. I leaned back in the chair to finish my meal when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

As if my body was working automatically, I lifted my hand and rubbed my nape, looking around for the source that had me so uneasy suddenly.

But I was alone in the cabin. And the longer I sat there, my muscles feeling tense, the more I realized I was letting it all get to me. I was making myself terrified over nothing.

Sure, there’d been a big ass bear outside the cabin last night, but it wasn’t unusual. I expected it when I came to Alaska. I just couldn’t shake this strange feeling that there was something… more.

And I didn’t know what exactly that was.

I finished eating and read another chapter of my book, and then got ready for bed.

I’d bathed and washed my hair before leaving Ketchikan, but tomorrow I’d brave the outdoor shower, as well as maybe taking the skiff across to the other island.

When I settled on the bottom bunk bed, I brought the sleeping bag up to my chin and lay there staring at the wooden frame of the top bunk. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep despite being exhausted.

All I could keep thinking about was the bear outside the cabin and it coming back.

Focusing on that lone window again, I felt my body relax on its own the longer the silence stretched out. Maybe sleep wouldn’t be so elusive tonight.

Drinking that wine wasn’t such a bad idea after all.