Bear Town

Chapter | 1

Tall cedar and cypress pines lined either side of the highway. Flashes of abandoned gas stations and cheap motels with partially lit vacancy signs all passed in a blur. With the sun warming my skin through the window, my eyelids became heavy, and I felt a daydream coming.

My thoughts predictably went to Aiden.

Aiden and his parents were Grandpa's only neighbors. I hadn't seen them since I was thirteen, four years ago. Aiden wore thick prescription glasses and had these big puppy-fat cheeks that made him look like a squirrel storing nuts.

By accident or on purpose, I wasn't sure which; Aiden had kissed me in the woods at the bottom of Grandpa's house. That had been the last time I had seen him. The thick wire of his braces had knocked against my teeth. Thinking back, it might have been spontaneous, but that didn't explain why there wasn't an ounce of surprise in his eyes when he pulled back. Stunned into silence, I'd wiped my mouth on my sleeve and not spoken a word to him since.

The thought of seeing Aiden again made me squirm in my seat. I often wondered if he knew about me before I figured it out.

Redirecting my gaze to my parents in the front seat, I said, "Please, can I stay at home by myself? Or at least, why can't you guys stay with me?"

Going to Grandpa was a banishment. My parents would force me to stay throughout spring break while they took a real vacation.

"Drew..." Mom said my name wearily, as though we talked about this all the time. "We need to be alone, your father and I," she paused, her fingers knotted together.

The sun disappeared from the car, leaving a chilled void I knew we all now felt.

After a minute's silence, she turned on the radio. It was a pointless distraction; her face was visible in the wing mirror. She said your name, not with her voice, but with her eyes. The broken shallows that rimmed them were a constant reminder of how dead you were. It was weird; I no longer remembered what her eyes looked like without you in them.

Gazing out of the window, she reverted to her usual thousand-yard stare. The hardest thing was pretending in these moments that you never existed. Half a year had passed; we were learning how to be human again, six short months since you drowned in front of me on the living room floor.

With your blue-gray eyes and dirty-blonde hair, everyone said you looked just like me. It was the primary reason she never saw me anymore. Like every other time, I let our conversation drop.

An hour later, we arrived outside two ranch-style houses. A large barn was nestled between them. Fallen trees covered in moss framed the entrance to a dirt path into the forest. Getting out of the car, Dad unpacked. They would stay one night until Grandpa returned from his fishing trip. With no other place to go, I walked to investigate the barn.

Dead flies collected along the crevices of the rotten window ledges. Pitchforks, bridle leads, and spring traps hung from hooks on the wall. The barn was split into two separate sections. On one side, hay littered the floor, but there was a distinct lack of resident animals. On the other, a workbench sat underneath a window; a red-speckled hammer sat on top.

Walking over, I picked up the hammer when a cough sounded behind me. Turning, I saw a boy about my age.

"Are you lost?" he said, grinning. The eyes looking back at me were watchful yet familiar. Dark-brown hair curled around his ears, under a baseball cap, turned front-to-back. His teeth were perfect to the point he could be a poster child for modern orthodontists.

He pushed black-rimmed glasses further up his nose. "Nobody ever comes in here except for me. Your Grandpa mentioned you'd be staying for spring break."