1 Chapter 1
A dream hadn’t taken over my mind. What happened on that October afternoon, a few days before Halloween, had been real. My mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I escaped my desk in Pittsburgh and rented a cabin along Lake Erie in the Native American Indian town of Penobscot, near Erie, only footsteps away from Skenandoa Deep, a bear-infested forest. I carried my single Army bag of clothes into the two-room cabin and returned to my Ford pickup for my photography supplies when someone called out my name. A man’s voice: deep, alluring, and vibrant in my ears.
“Shayne.”
Once, twice, three times. The voice came from the nearby pines to the east of the cabin: thick trees with browning needles, shade from the post-summer sun. I looked to the pines and listened to my name again. It echoed in the afternoon, among the timber.
“Shayne.”
Foolish, I walked towards the trees, curious. To my left was the choppy, blue-silver-green lake. To my right stood the cabin I had rented for the next week: shabby, log-framed, with minimal heat and gas, and very expensive for something that looked somewhat dilapidated and old.
“Shayne Law,” the voice said from the pines again.
I stepped closer, closer, closer.
A large black bear the size of a Volkswagen Beetle appeared from behind the pines’ trunks. It slowly, somewhat poetically, lumbered towards me, making eye contact with its muddy brown eyes, studying me from brow to toes and taking in my six-two frame, one hundred and eighty pounds, rugged jaw, fern green eyes, and wavy blond hair. Then the bear started to run towards me…after me. All three hundred and fifty pounds. Its massive paws and dagger-like claws dug into the pine-covered ground. It sniffed the air, huffed, learning my scent, hungry for me. It growled and groaned, hunting me as if I were its prey, most likely wanting to tear me apart.
Don’t run, I thought
Running was the worst thing I could do, instigating a losing battle with the furred beast. But terror won. I spun around and took off. I careened to the far left and towards the utility shed that housed a hose, tools, a variety of lumber, and various plastic tubs covered in thick layers of dust that were used for moving. I rushed across the October earth, feet shuffling through the dry, autumnal leaves, chilled wind blowing against my face. My heart thudded, and my pulse raced. For just a few seconds, I couldn’t hear anything around me, lost in panic. My legs and feet rose and fell with the speed of light. Cool sweat poured down my forehead and the backs of my arms. I huffed and puffed, almost sounding like the bear that started to chase me and…
It had to be a piece of tree that took me out, lying crooked on the ground in front of me; a rotted limb from an oak; a fist-thick branch that was about a foot long, half concealed by leaves. I tripped over it, lost my balance, made an umphsound, and immediately raised my arms in hopes of flying off the ground to save myself from a scraped knee, a bashed-in skull, or some other traumatic injury.
To no avail, gravity did its thing and pulled me to the earth. I stumbled forward and prepared for the fall, knowing I could be hurt in just a matter of seconds, even hospitalized for the next month or longer. Fortunately, a scattering of piled leaves prevented any major wounds. Maybe I should have played the state lottery that day. I closed my eyes and fell into the pile headfirst and thanked the good Lord in heaven I was undamaged.
With the right side of my face planted in the pile of leaves, the bear turned me over: gently, not causing any pain, and without digging its claws through the denim material of my jeans. Positioned on my back and having the massive beast stand overtop me, delicately pinning me under him, I stared up into its eyes, lost in its large pupils. It clicked its tongue two consecutive times. The bear woofed once, too old to bawl like a cub, and nudged its long nose against my chin. It licked the left side of my neck, perhaps offering a hello or something. Then it woofed a second time.
I froze under the animal, wide-eyed, hoping that it wouldn’t become angry and claw me to death. My chest rose and fell, loaded with fear. My mind spun in confusing circles, and my vision blurred. I couldn’t put rational thoughts together. I trembled, horrified. I felt bile rise into my mouth, and I swallowed. I blinked a few times, having no clue what would happen next.
Nostrils flared, the bear shared another woof with me, which sounded less strong and somewhat harmless. Its breath smelt of freshly killed salmon. Our eyes connected, and…I knewtheir muddy-brown hue and slightly oval shape. I could see the faint, almost humanly wrinkles around them.
