Page 3 of True North
They skated for about an hour and went for lunch after their workout, to a juice bar near the rink that had good salads and grain bowls. One of the guys on Alex’s team was a health nut, and Alex had finally seen the light and stopped whining about JT’s off-season diet. JT still ate a lot of pasta and dessert during the season, but he tried to keep it pretty clean during the summers. He wasn’t eighteen anymore; even an extra five pounds of body fat slowed him down on the ice more than he could afford.
While they ate, Alex talked about the girl he was trying to date, who kept watching his Instagram stories but wasn’t following him. JT didn’t totally understand what any of this implied—he only used his Instagram account to post very occasional pictures of fishing and dogs—but he nodded in the appropriate places and agreed with Alex that it sounded like she was hot for both his body and his personality. JT had been single for a year and didn’t miss anything about dating. If he got horny, well, that was why he had toys.
He was in a good mood as he drove home: good workout, good meal, nice time hanging out with Alex. That feeling lasted until he pulled into his driveway and saw the trash scattered all over the concrete slab and the bear waist-deep in his knocked-over garbage can.
“For fuck’s sake,” JT muttered. The bear was blocking his access to the garage and didn’t seem at all inclined to move. It pulled its head out of the can long enough to make eye contact with JT through the windshield, then went back to its trash feast like it didn’t have a care in the world.
JT parked his truck and got out, a little trepidatious. This bear was a person, but maybe kind of a crazy person who’d been out in the woods for years. JT didn’t know for sure how the bear was going to react, and he left the driver’s side door open in case he needed to stage a hasty tactical retreat.
“Hey,” he said. The bear ignored him. “Hey! Bear guy!” Still no response, except for a contented whuffle as the bear found something particularly tasty. JT edged closer, and when the bear still didn’t respond to his presence, he power-walked around to the side door to let himself into the house. He’d never heard of a shifter attacking a human, but his lizard brain wasn’t thrilled about being so close to a huge predator, and it was a relief to close the door behind him. He was safe.
He peered through the sidelights to watch the bear’s continued rummaging through the trash. He was annoyed about the mess, but he also felt bad for the guy. Lenny had made it sound like this bear was the shifter equivalent of homeless, and JT knew a lot of homeless people were veterans or had problems with drugs or alcohol, so maybe something similar was going on here. It couldn’t be fun to be that skinny and dirty and go around eating people’s trash. Maybe the bear just needed someone to help him out a little. JT’s parents had raised him to always try to help people less fortunate than he was, and since Lenny hadn’t given any indication that he expected the guy to be dangerous, JT didn’t see the harm in at least trying.
Also, he was curious.
He changed into his flip-flops and got out his stuff for fishing, his rod and tackle box and worm tin. When he went back outside, the bear had backed out of the garbage can and was eating something JT decided not to examine too closely. The bear raised its head as JT came out of the house, and the sharp intelligence in its gaze was impossible to mistake. It was sizing him up.
JT raised his fishing rod, trying to make it clear what he was holding. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you something to eat that tastes better than my garbage.”
He turned and walked down toward his dock without waiting to see how the bear would respond, ignoring the instincts that screamed at him that it was a terrible idea to turn his back to something that could eat him without a second thought. After a few moments, he heard a shuffling sound and the click of blunt claws against the concrete, and suppressed a smile. His plan might work.
Like most summer days, the weather was beautiful: not too warm, but sunny enough that he was comfortable in a T-shirt. He lived twenty minutes west of town, with a lakefront view toward the Upper Peninsula, and on a day like this, with the blue water stretching out before him and a gentle wind rustling through the trees, he couldn’t imagine a nicer spot anywhere on earth.
His yard sloped down to the lakeshore, where the jetty ran out into the water. He walked to the very end of it, where he had a battered lawn chair set up on the dock for fishing and sunbathing purposes. It wasn’t a great time of day for fishing, but maybe he’d get lucky and hook a muskie or something. He glanced behind him. The bear padded along the jetty behind him, moving slowly, its gaze fixed on JT. At the very least, he’d managed to lure the bear out of his trash.
He turned to one side as he selected a hook from his tackle box and tied it to the line. That way, he could keep an eye on the bear. It stopped a few feet away and sat down, its ears pricked forward like a cat’s as it watched JT bait the hook.
He cast his line out into the lake. The bear groaned and lay down with its chin resting on its paws. Nothing happened for a while. JT thought about saying something to break the silence, but what did you talk about with a bear? The weather? The best places in town to eat garbage?
At last, he felt a tug on his line, and after a brief battle he reeled in a decent-sized trout, maybe four pounds. He unhooked it and tossed it toward the bear. The fish lay flopping on the dock, its mouth opening and closing.
The bear put one paw over the fish to hold it in place and looked at JT as if he was waiting for permission.
“Go on,” JT said, nodding and gesturing to the trout. “That’s for you.” Still, the bear watched him for a few more moments before he bent his head to the feast.
Rather than watching, JT baited his hook again and cast the line. The sun warmed his face; the water lapped at the pilings. Fishing was soothing even when there was a huge bear behind him noisily eating his catch. He hooked two more fish, another trout and a small-mouth bass, and tossed them both to the bear. By then, he was feeling a little hungry himself, and ready to go inside for his pre-dinner snack.
“So, you’re gonna stop going through my trash now, right?” he asked the bear, who was busily tearing strips of flesh from the body of the bass. “Knocking over the garbage cans makes a huge mess. I can get you more fish if you’re hungry.”
The bear stared at him, chewing.
He hadn’t really expected an answer, but surely the bear could give himsomething.
Nope. The bear only kept staring.
“Glad to see we’re in agreement,” JT said, and cut the hook from the line.
Two
JT came home from dinner at a friend’s house two nights later and found garbage strewn all over his driveway.
“Are you kidding me with this?” he said, exasperated. The floodlights mounted on the garage revealed that the can was turned on its side and had been dragged halfway into the grass. There was no sign of the bear, but raccoons didn’t do this. JT had gone to the goddamn fishmonger in town and bought two big salmon and left them out for the bear, andstillit had done this again. JT was beginning to feel more annoyed than perplexed.
He got out of his truck, righted the can, and surveyed the mess of ripped trash bag and scattered food scraps. A dark smear of coffee grounds stained the concrete. He needed rubber gloves, probably. And a hose.
A sound behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see the bear coming out from between the cypress trees that lined his driveway, a shadow with glowing eyes. When the bear spotted JT, it stopped moving and shrank backward slightly. Its ears lowered. Bears didn’t have much in the way of facial expressions, but if they did, JT would have said this one looked sheepish.
“Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” JT asked it, gesturing to the disaster zone of his driveway. “Whole lake full of fish and you want to eat my kitchen scraps?”