They sat and watched the ducks until the ducks lost interest and returned to their nests. Then, unexpectedly, her father rose, wrapped her coat tightly around her, then cradled her in his arms and began to walk. It had been years since her father had held her like this, and even though she was six years old--too old to be cradled, it felt so warm in her father’s arms that she didn’t mind if people saw her being held like a baby. He looked down under his wide felt hat and smiled, and she smiled back and felt that something strange was taking place. She had been so sad for so long and it had been such a heavy sadness, like her heart covered in winter clouds, that she had forgotten what it was like to be happy or to play or to laugh. But now, on this morning, with the sun just cresting over a canopy of golden leaves, it felt like something was lifting, and it felt good to smile.
They spotted a quiver of fish along the creek and watched a woodpecker knocking against a sugar pine. Her father made two tiny schooners out of sticks and oak leaves and they raced them down the mill creek then tried to sink them with rocks. They came to a cluster of sycamores and suddenly father ran toward her and yelled, “You’d better run or I’ll eat you up.” It was so strange to see her father running that Gracie stayed still staring, until her father was almost upon her. She noticed the sparkle in his eye and let out a playful scream and ran out from beneath her heavy coat and hid behind the nearest tree. Her father slowed and stomped his big feet and said, “I’m a hungry grizzly bear and I eat little girls for breakfast.” Gracie felt deliciously terrified and quickly scanned the hillside for cover. She waited while her father thumped and growled, and then quickly darted uphill into a bushel of rhododendrons.
Her father soon followed, panting up the hill. He carefully reached within the dark green leaves and swept his hand back and forth, while Gracie crouched quiet and still, both hands covering her mouth. His arm finally withdrew and the park became very quiet. Gracie waited. And Gracie waited. It occurred to her that her father may have wandered off and left her. She stood and stepped from the bushes, when all of a sudden there was a loud growl and Gracie felt two hands grip her waist. Her father jerked her from the ground, turned her upside down, nuzzled his warm beard into her neck and growled.
“I’ve got you little girl. I’ve got you.” Gracie laughed and screamed at the brackish beard , but the father bear just placed her over his shoulders, like a sack of flour, and carried her down the bank singing, “I’ve got me a Gracie breakfast, a very fine Gracie breakfast….”
When they came to the edge of the dirt road that wound along the park, a black sedan puttered by and two boys in the back seat hung their heads out the window pointing and laughing. “Grrrr!” replied her father, and the boys quickly withdrew their heads while their mother shouted from the front passenger window, “Shame on you!”
The father laughed and sat down in the grass placing Gracie at his side. She wrapped her arms around his side and placed her cheek against his arm and for the first time that she could remember, it felt natural to be so affectionate. The father curled his arm around his daughter and drew her in close. He tilted his head toward her and said, “Things need to change Gracie. Things need to change. I know we both miss her…but, well, she’s not coming back and we’ve got to go on and make a different kind of life. We need….we need to be” He paused, trying to find the word. “We need to be happier.” He reached down and lifted his daughter’s chin. She looked up at him and nodded. She wanted to be happy.
They sat quiet for awhile, basking in the late morning glow of the autumn trees until the moment passed and he lifted her up to her feet. “Now,” he said, brushing off his backside, “let’s go find the real bear.” She held his hand and they walked up the park, leaving her mother’s jacket somewhere on the ground.
As they walked to the north end of the park they passed a sign that read, “Auto Camping.” Just past the sign the dirt road widened and the girl suddenly noticed the many cars parked within the trees. Most had canvas tents stretched along their sides with wooden packing boxes, and morning campfires weaving thin ribbons of smoke into the pine and cedar branches. She could hear children chasing one another and smelled bacon from all directions. Her father pointed to a wooden bridge. “That’s where we cross.” They walked the bridge over the creek and passed two women carrying cloth covered baskets, their hair loose and wiry. Then, in a clearing she spotted something in the shadow of a large cedar tree. It was a strange man. A sad man. Sitting in the dirt, his head dropped to his chest, his shoulders soft and rounded. Without taking her eyes away she whispered, “Daddy, who’s that?”
“That’s him. That’s who we came to see. That’s the bear.” She refocused her eyes, and then she saw it, the hands and feet were long, the head was like a boulder. She noticed the ears stood pointed and wide atop the rounded skull. It was a bear. Her father stopped and read a white painted sign with red lettering: “Danger. This bear is a wild animal. Do not feed. Do not touch. Do not pass the marked perimeter.” Her father set her down at the edge of a surprisingly thin rope staked in a circle around the bear and his tree. How could this rope protect anyone from a wild animal? Gracie wondered. She stood and placed her hands on the rope, tentatively, and took a good look at the wild beast. She had never been this close to a bear before. It looked more strange than dangerous.
No comments:
Post a Comment