There Will Be Bears (10 page)

She gives me her you’re-such-an-idiot eye roll. “What do you want?”

“Come and help me study. I’ll make you pancakes.”

“It’s too early.”

“I can only see Gene this weekend if I get a B on my test.”

She groans. “All right.”

I’m feeling good. Even though there’s no way Gene’s lie will work, I’ll still get to see him. And he
is
my best friend. He would never betray me for the cool kids in the nursing home.

I flip up some of the best pancakes ever, ’cause they have my secret ingredient in them — blueberries. With my country music playlist on, I’m stacking ’em up on Ashley’s plate.

She turns my phone off. “I want you to write down each question from your last test on these flash cards. And on the other side, write down the answer.”

“But Ms. Hoole’s not even going to test me on these questions. She’s going to make new ones.”

“Just do it,” she says with a groan.

When Ashley quizzes me, I’m surprised by how many I get right.

I say, “How did I do this?”

“When you have multiple-choice or fill-in-the-blank tests, make flash cards. The way you’ve been studying, you just skim through the chapter.”

Jeez, maybe I could be good at anything. Maybe I could kick a football farther than Bright. Heck, maybe I’m the greatest kisser the world has ever known.

The next morning, I’m able to get in two sets of ten push-ups and fifteen sit-ups, and then I do some arm curls with my backpack loaded with my books. I walk to school eating one of Mom’s really dry and disgusting protein bars.

Ms. Hoole is typing on her laptop in homeroom. The test waits on the desk in front of her.

“Hey, Tyson. Have a seat. You’ll have fifty minutes to finish, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

The first three questions are all ones that Ashley quizzed me on yesterday. This thing is easy. I mean, the Boston Tea Party? More like, the Boston I-Just-Answered-You-Correctly Party.

I hand in my test with ten minutes left.

“Done already?” She takes out her red pen, does her marks, then hands the paper back. And there it is, an eighty-eight written in her bubbly handwriting. Next to a smiley cat face. I’m trying to act all normal, but my brain is tingling and my hands are warm. This is the first time in forever that my grade isn’t accompanied by a grumpy cat face.

The bell rings for first period, and I hurry to the auditorium, where Karen sits on the far end. With my test stuffed into my back pocket, I take the chair one row behind her, my closest so far.

Don’t be myself. Don’t be the psycho Internet stalker she met at Brighton’s. Be cool and/or funny and have one of those hot half smiles and slightly narrowed eyes.

I got this.

I poke her neck with my pencil eraser. “Hey.”

“Ow.” Karen turns. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she’s rubbing her neck. “What was that for?”

“What
wasn’t
it for?”

She smirks. I can work with that. She says, “Didn’t really get a chance to talk to you the other night. Not too often I meet another hunter.”

“Yeah, well, you know. I don’t like to brag.”

“What kind of animals do you hunt?”

I force back a stutter. “Elk, mostly.”

“Oh, yeah, my granddad told me this area has some of the largest elk herds. I see ’em all over the place. What’s your largest one?”

“Oh, well, there was this one time last season I shot a buck with six points.”

“Bull.”

How can she see right through me? “I’m not lying.”

“No, no. You said you shot a buck, but bucks are male deer.
Bulls
are male elk.”

“Oh, yeah. I shoot so many, sometimes I get confused.”

She nods, and I can only pray she believes me. “So you just go out in your backyard and shoot one?”

“We don’t hunt the elk here. We go to the Grand Tetons.”

“Fun! My granddad says Wyoming’s got a lot of regulations. You don’t have to prove the animal’s sex in Texas.”

“That’s weird.” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“What’s it like?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never field-dressed an animal. The hunting guides on the ranch always did the dirty work. What’s it like cutting open an elk?”

“Like breaking open a piñata, I guess. But instead of candy falling out, there’s like . . . intestines.”

“Ew!” The sound of her laughter is so rewarding. I have to keep this up. She says, “You gotta show me pictures. Are there any online?”

“We didn’t take pictures. But we will this year, I bear swear.”

“What’s bear swear?”

Just like Gene showed me, and just like how I showed Mom, I have her make her hands into bear claws. Her fingers interlock with mine. Her hands are so soft, and she’s got this amazing smile.

Looking her dead in the eyes, I shake our hands violently with a growl. She bursts into a honking laugh. It’s so unexpected and dorky.

“I love bears,” she says.

“Me, too.”

Mr. Cavner enters the room and tells the class to be quiet. Karen turns around and she’s choking back a fit of laughter.

Today we sing “I Wanna Be Loved by You.”

There’s no question about it — I’m getting the bear costume. And the hunting trip is so on.

I post an ad on Craigslist.

Aquarium and all the stuff for it. 75 dollars
.

But that’s not going to be enough for the bear costume. I need three hundred. And there’s only one valuable thing that I have.

I look at my Taylor Swift tickets. It’s a concert that I’ve wanted to see since fifth grade. But I’m the only guy in my grade who admits to liking her.

I mean, I don’t
have
to see her. And besides, the bear costume is so cool. The fur looks like it was skinned from an actual bear, and it’s got the meanest face you can imagine. This costume would make a statement — I am strong like bear. I make eating berries and grazing look fierce.

Karen is going to love it.

There’s a pile of clean laundry on my bed. I fold my Taylor Swift T, then tuck it into the bottom dresser drawer beneath a stack of shirts that smell like the back rack at Goodwill. And then I post the ad.

Two Taylor Swift tickets for sale. Second row seats. 250 bucks for the pair
.

Within minutes, my phone moos.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling about the Taylor Swift tickets,” says some girl.

“Yeah, I’m selling them for two fifty.”

“Is there any way you could sell them cheaper?”

“How much cheaper?”

“All I have is two hundred.”

“Two
hundred
? These tickets sold out in fifteen minutes.”

“I know, but they’re for my brother.”

Oh, my God, is this Ashley?

She goes, “He said he’d go with me if I got tickets.”

It’s got to be her. This is too good. I say, “Well, maybe we could make a trade.”

“Um . . .”

“Tell you what — two hundred bucks for the pair, but you got to throw in your Nintendo DS Lite.”

The other line goes silent. “Tyson?”

Now I’m laughing. “You can pick up your tickets at thirteen fourteen Corona Drive.”

“Tyson!”

I hear Ashley scampering down the hall.

With one hand on the knob, she says in the doorway, “You have Taylor Swift tickets? How did you get tickets?”

I wave them at her. “Told you I was a bigger fan.”

She goes for them, but I pull away.

I say, “Do we have a deal?”

“Wait, you’re not actually going to sell them to me.”

“Uh-huh.”

She sits down on the bed next to me and says, “The whole reason I wanted to buy these tickets was so we could go together. Now we can.”

“Yeah, but I need this money to buy my Halloween costume.”

“Why are you spending so much on a costume?”

“ ’Cause it’s awesome. And then me and Gene are going on our trip.”

“Tyson!” She jumps to her feet. “There’s no way Dad’s letting you go.”

“Yeah, he will, when I tell him we’re going to the Caribou-Targhee National Forest.”

“But that’s in Idaho.”

“Check this place out.” I flip open my laptop to their website. “Me and Gene are going fishing, and they have horseback riding and you can even pan for gold. Fun, huh?”

She gives me this knowing stare. “Are you really going to Idaho?”

“That depends. Are you cool?”

“Huh?”

“Are you cool? I mean, are
we
cool?”

“Um, yeah. We’re cool.”

“It’s where Dad
thinks
we’re going.”

“Tyson, no. You can’t go to the Tetons. There’s grizzlies up there.”

“I know.”

“Haven’t you seen the news?”

“Whatever. That was, like, a week ago.”

“No, no. The couple from Ohio.”

“Huh?”

“This couple from Cleveland were in their tent and a grizzly bear knocked it down and killed them.”

“What? When?”

“It was all over the news this morning. It happened in the Tetons yesterday.”

“Yeah, right. You’re just like Mom.”

She takes my laptop and shows me the headline story on my home page.

Bear Attack in Bridger-Teton National Forest Kills Two Hunters
.

I read the headline over and over, trying to process it. This happened in the exact place Gene and I will be hunting. And all I can picture is Sandy, the fur around her face matted with blood and her belly engorged with human body parts.

I go, “They just meant a bear
attacked
two hun —”

“Killed,”
Ashley stresses. “You can’t go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m going.”

“But why?”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Ashley, you don’t understand. Even if there were fifty thousand bear attacks this year and I had a ninety percent chance of getting eaten alive, I would still go. Yeah, I’m scared. Of course I’m a little scared, but what would Gene say? He’ll probably never get to go hunting again.”

“Please, Tyson. Please, please — you can’t go.”

“There really isn’t anything you can say to stop me.”

“I could tell Dad that you’re lying to him. Think you’d be able to go then?”

“Ashley. Come on, I thought we were cool.”

“You don’t realize it now, but I
am
being cool.”

My phone moos. Another local number that I’ve never seen before.

“You could tell Dad,” I say, “and I could take this call.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I secretly hit
IGNORE
on my phone and put it up to my ear. “Hello?” I say. “The Swift tickets? Yeah, they’re still available.”

Ashley opens her wallet. Two bills fall onto my bed. Benjamin Franklin’s face is on the front. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. But please, please, please, you have to be safe.”

Before Mom gets back from the store and Dad gets home from work, I’ve found someone to take Jar Jar Newtingston’s old home off my hands. She’s a cute young mom who just bought her eight-year-old son some guppies.

So it’s official — the saga of Pizza Bear and Booger Bear 5000 has come to an end.

I don’t want it to hurt, but when she carries the aquarium away, my chest gets that burning sad feeling I’ve been getting a lot lately. It’s like, yeah, Bright’s not my friend anymore so it shouldn’t be a big deal. But he
was
my friend.

Someday I’ll get over it.

When I hear the sound of the garage door rumbling open, I go downstairs to meet Dad at the door leading to the garage. “Hey.”

“Tyson. What’s happening?”

“Not much. I just rocked Ms. Hoole’s face off.” I show him my test.

“Hey, nice job, buddy.”

“So can you take me to the mall? I need to get my costume.”

An hour later, we’re walking by empty stores and the broken fountain. I used to toss pennies in there when I was a kid and wish that Mom would buy me a Transformer. This place used to be so packed, but now it’s like ancient ruins.

“Hey, Dad? I was looking online the other day, and have you ever heard of home dialysis?”

“The machines cost forty thousand dollars,” he says, as if he were prepared for my question. “Plus certified nurses and installation — it’s money we simply don’t have.”

There’s got to be a better option than a nursing home in another state. But there aren’t any dialysis centers here. There isn’t much of anything here. We have Chipotle and the Bargain Barn, and they’re talking about putting in a Jamba Juice, but I’m not getting my hopes up.

The costume shop has been cleaned out except for my costume, hanging like a skinned bear and all by itself on the back rack.

When I go to the cashier and he’s ringing me up, I see the grand total. And I’m short on money.

The cashier has on a pair of pink bunny ears and painted-on whiskers, a button nose, and a name tag that says
KIERNAN
. He says dully, “Looks like you’re going to have to take it back.”

“Here,” Dad says to me. “Give me your money, and I’ll put it on my card.”

“Dad, you don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t know why you want this goofy outfit so bad, but if it means that much to you.” He hands the cashier his credit card.

Wow. Maybe it’s because of the weather or because I got a B on my test, but Dad’s in a good mood. Now’s my chance.