Wild Bear

Start to a novel about a highschool student and his dog, to say the least. Putting this out here to gage interest. Enjoy!

I remember the pond like I remember my dog, idyllic yet incomplete. The pond was sparkling with the sun’s rays falling onto its surface. Pine trees reached for the heavens and shyly waved their branches with each gust of sweet summery air. A gentle trickling sound could be heard off in the distance as a stream forged into the forest. Intermittently, there was a lovely chirp, by a bird I can not identify by name, but know by heart.

And then, splashing around in once still water, scaring once relaxed geese, while covering his once clean fur in the muck,  is my dog Bear. Bear is a beautiful dog. I mean, when he is not covered in pond filth. Soft white fur hangs down from his stomach to his chest. Sun baked chestnut brown shines on his entire upper body which reaches down to his legs. Fur flows from his legs like tassels, which when dry blow effortlessly in the wind.

For now though, lovable Bear is a mess. Black leafy gunk sticks to his snout, coating the spot of white that runs up it. Rancid green and brown filth coat the sides his body. He smells, also, like the pond. Like decomposition and farts. Which, oddly enough, can be pleasing at times. In this case however, the repugnant smell procured no convoluted pleasure, only disgust.

I called Bear, from a half submerged rock I was standing on. Slippery black mold climbed up the rock from the murky water. However, from the top it was dry. Perfect for watching, a spectator to the silent yet eventful game of nature. Nature unlike my dog is peaceful. Bear came bounding toward me after hearing his name. Excitement wriggling in his eyes like baby bird about to be fed. He splished, he splashed, he sprung. Yes, he sprung, like the springer spaniel that he is. Floppy ears flailing in what seemed to be any and every direction.  And then Bear reached me.

He lept up next to me on the rock and began splattering his rancid wet fur against my “clean” jeans. Even worse he started to nip at my hands playfully. Before he could completely obliterate my clothes with nastiness,  I grabbed him, by his  fluffy arms, and pushed him back into the water. The splash drenched me in the foul, oddly metallically tasting essence of the pond . I was soaked, and muddy, and smiling. Bear recovered from my retaliation. He looked up at me for a second, with an odd quizzical look much like that of a confused old man, and then bounded back after me.

I jumped off the rock before he could get to me and shot up the vertical incline of dirt that surrounded the pond. I grabbed onto the flaky evergreen branches of the trees surrounding me and prayed, to each and every god I didn't believe in, that this nasty dog would not catch up to me.

In the end he caught up to me. And I wrestled with him. And then I cleaned him. And then I hugged him. I guess by the end of the day I forgave him also. Because that's what friends do, they forgive each other. And this dog was my friend, I know that, it’s not something Id argue about. It doesn't matter now anyways, I guess, because he's not my dog anymore. All I have left of him are memories. Sweet, soft, delicate memories that I love with all my heart.

It's odd to feel that someone is dead when they are truly are alive. I try not to do it. I for one, would not want someone envisioning me in my gravestone. Nevertheless, I cant help but feel like my precious dog Bear is dead. It's not like I think that he has died. I just haven't seen him in so long, and I suppose that Bear died in my mind the moment we stopped having memories together. It's stupid and selfish for me to believe that, I know. Of course, I, don't have to be intertwined with anyone's life for them to carry on. The world will move on even without me as it has since the beginning of time.

Still, I can't get over this natural human tendency. To feel as if there is only one life on earth, and greedily it is mine. Everyone else are just characters to some cosmic tale constantly rewriting itself. And my dog Bear, well, he was something of a main character. Now, I suppose, there are no more lines written for him in my tale. At least now I have what is written to recall.

I don't really know why I have been thinking about Bear so much lately. In fact for the past year I have nearly forgotten about him. He was simply a symbol of my past. Of childhood innocence and anger and something else that I can't put into words. Maybe, it has something to do with the dreams Ive been having. Vivid startling dreams.

Last night, I dreamed I was in the valley of three giant mountains. Trees like hairy giant legs rose to the sky. The sky was silver. There was no sun, but I knew it was day. I  stood alone, feeling like I was the last person on the planet. Part of me relished that feeling, I felt large, like I controlled these mountains and trees and even the silver sky. And then came the Bear. The Bear was a deep brown that kept flickering to black. It growled and roared, and the noises it made seemed to come from the ground itself. And then the bear looked at me- straight in the eyes. It was calm like the sea or a hypothermic losing touch with a cold reality. And then it ran straight at me, its expression never changing. I held my place. Before the bear and I ever met, I woke, crying sometimes, other times with a deep revelous smile, feeling with all my heart like I just met something horribly splendid.

Anyways, the only bad thing about about a traumatically frightening metaphorical dream, is that you wake up very tired afterwards. Perhaps this is why, the morning  after, I can't  listen to a thing my mother says. “Warren, talk to your math teacher Mrs. Leonard at school. You don't understand,  you need to get your grade up….Blah Blah Blah”. If only I could shove my face into the bowl of wheaties I was munching on and drown myself.

Honestly though, I shouldn't be so hard on my mother. She tries the best she can. She cares more than most people. But for gods sake does she nag. Just the other day she yelled “Warren empty the litter box”. The littler box mom? The litter box that holds all of the worst diseases imaginable. I rather just poke myself in the thigh with used syringes. God, it's like she expects me to be a normal functioning human being that actually does chores.

It's not really my fault I can't listen to mom. My minds caught up on the dream and  something else. This something else may be a girl. The beautiful girl with dark brown eyes that sometimes sparkle when the sun hits them the right way. The girl with a rugged fashion sense, dark brown hair, and a lanky figure. The girl with the sad stare searching endlessly, never seeming to find anything. I need to know this girl, I need to search with her, maybe I can stop her sad stare. Or maybe we can stare off together, sadly, at all the happy little things in life.

I guess I should also mention that prom is coming up. I have no true desire in going to prom, it's overrated really. I guess there's just a romantic inside of me who's fighting my best interest. I don't think that my inner Romeo stands much of a chance anyways, embarrassingly enough, I don't even know the name of the girl i've been crushing on. It's not like I haven't heard it. It's just that I am really bad with names. And like remembering things in general. In fact I'm bad at a lot of things. Most notably Math.

“Warren”. I look up from my wheaties. “Are you even paying attention”. I nod my head. “Really?”. I smile and sarcastically say “Do I look like a liar”. She smiles a little without meaning too “You look like a fool… Now, about Mrs. Leonard”. I sigh deeply and  stand up. I take my bowl and put it into the sink, the porcelain clinking against metal. “I gotta go… Ill miss the bus”. I start heading for the door. “Wait” my mom gives me the evil eye, her blue eyes piercing my presently calm demeanor.

I make a wide crescendoing gesture with my hands and say mockingly “I'm waiting”. She points her finger at me “You better figure out how to get your calculus grade up”. I look at her unafraid “Or what”. She seems a little taken aback by that comment. “Or you will never get into a good college”. I submit “Alright, I'll try my hardest”. She looks happier now, a confident smile sits content on her face. “Good, I'll see you after school”. I walk out the door and shout back “Love you” and then fake cough “*cough* college *cough* is for nerds*cough*”. I wonder how much of a nerd I am. Probably a pretty big one.

At the bus stop I see my friend Alec. Alec stands taller than me by about two inches, making him around 5’10. He has a few features that are a lot like mine, brown hair, white skin, the occasional freckles. Also, like me, he looks a lot younger than he actually is. Unlike me he doesn't have a defined jaw or serious resting expression. I fear that he will never look much older. I personally, do like to believe that I am less skinny than him, however he will debate this strongly.

“Hey amigo, how does it go” I ask with a humorous rhythm to my voice. He responds with fresh sarcasm that never gets old “It's just great, wonderful, life is perfect. Nothing makes me more happy than the crushing pain of getting up early in the morning after having worked all night on an essay”. Despite Alecs sarcasm, it actually is pretty nice outside. It is a foggy spring morning, the air smells sweet and feels refreshing to breathe in. The day is cold, but the sun shines down kindly. Cars pour down the street in front of our bus stop a little more leisurely than normal.

“You know what I love Alec”. He looks at me with a humorously fake smile. “Yes, of course, tell me”. “I love the fact that Im failing math, it, is, just, sooooo great”. Alec looks at me seriously for a second “Bro”. I look back concerned “Yes”. “That, is, wonderfuuuuul”. I smile. “Dude we are weird as nards”. I can hear a voice come from behind me, it's deep and punctual “You can say that again”.

Alec turns around “Shutup Art, at least we don't look at anime girls online”. Art looks at Alec disappointedly and then looks expecting me to say something, I just laugh. “Okay, you both know that I interested in ancient Japan, not anime girls. Honestly, you guys are just stereotyping all of Japan”. I step in “Art, we both know you only research anime girls 50% of the time”. Art looks at me, sheer intelligence radiating off of him “I know you guys are kidding, I just think it's dangerous to make generalizing jokes”. Alec pats Art on the back “Man, you care too much”. I pat Art on the back as well “I want to care as much as you”.

The bus rolls in and we load in like prisoners. The prisoners are tired, but still vivacious. Girls sit three to a seat, even though there are still some empty, talking about life and prom and sometimes boys. Guys sit one or two to a seat, manspreading like never before. They laugh and tell jokes, and sometime talk about prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. I walk to the back of the bus with Alec and Art. Art and I squish in together, me on the outside, facing for the moment Alec who sits across from me.

I look away from Alec and down the aisle. There are so many people, just living out their lives. They are all characters in my grand narrative and I to theres. It feels odd to know that I will only ever experience one true story, the rest are for the guessing. Art stares at me analytically. He looks serious much of the time, with his readily creasing brow and concerned eyes. It's not really just a look through, he really, truly, is serious much of the time. Sometimes I wonder if he holds the weight of the world in his mind.

Alec breaks whatever deep interpersonal analysis Art and I are in. “So have you guys thought about prom?”. I look at him with feigned disgust and a dash of real anger “DON'T USE THAT WORD”. Alec gives me a childish smirk “Fine I won't use the word so”. “This isnt a joke man. People always have to talk about prom like its the biggest deal in the world. There are people starving across the world and we have to talk about prom. Animals are being abused. Climate change is upon us”. Art interceded “Okay Warren, calm down. But yes agreed, prom is stupid”. Alec looked at us both with his chin pressed against his neck “Obviously you guys don't want to talk about prom because you already have hot dates, Ill stop”.

Art look away for a moment. He didn't really have a response to Alec’s sarcastic point. Art more than anyone seemed to caught up in his mind to really care about girls. I on the other hand did care. The only problem is that I am desperately afraid of the opposite gender. And that really there is only one person I would ever want to ask, but I don't know her name. So instead of go with somebody I don't like, I'm planning on staying home, eating a lot of food, and crying. It'll be fun.

By the time we made it to school, my rage against Alec and his prom comments subside. Turns out for the moment, he has no date as well. I don't know why that makes me feel better, it just does. Soon he will be asked, probably by some pretty, but fairly nerdy girl. Knowing Alec, he would never ask himself. Like me he desperately loves and fears the opposite gender.

My school is pretty giant. Stone walls rise three stories with massive air conditioners on top. A bronze statue of a wolf resides in the middle of a circular commons in front of the school. Grey and a sharp blue are the colors of the school. It's not really noticeable from the outside, but once you get in blue and grey linoleum tiles line the floor.The walls alternate from gray to blue. Plenty of windows let light flow into the school. It gives off the feeling of the arctic. Well lit, but somehow distantly cold.

Alec, Art, and I got to a school a little early, like we usually do. We just start roaming around the hallways like the hooligan teenagers that we are. People are scattered near windows and lockers talking. Still, the school seems sparse and the grand majority of people will come flooding in once the bell rings. I look to my left and see Alec has his eyes set on a small brown haired girl with thick rimmed glasses and a cute smile. His eyes are locked, if I didn't know any better I would think him creepy. But I do know Alec, and that is the look of love.

I nudge Alec with my elbow. “Hey… whatcha looking at”. Alec turns away from the girl quickly and looks at me awkwardly. He begins blushing. “I… I was just looking for Waldo, couldnt find him anywhere”. I look at him and smile. “That girl over there doesn't really look like Waldo”. Alec presses his chin to his neck again and makes a funny face. “Don't be sexist brologni”. I notice Art studying Alec and I, silently, deciphering the situation. A spectator to life.

I look back over at the girl Alec was looking at, she notices. She meets my eyes, but I avert them to Alec. Alec smiles and waves at her, she walks over cooly. “Hey Alec”. “Hi, Julia”. “How's it going?”. “You know how it is, I have sooo many sheets of music to learn for band”. “Oh my god, I know right. It's like Mr. Maloney just wants to steal our free time”. “Yeah, he can be a real cheezer”. “Did you just call him a cheezer?”. “Yea”. “Thats cute”. Alec blushes. I momentarily interrupt their conversation “Hey Art and I are gonna head over to History, catcha later”. Alec gives me a smile, but I can see plastered on his face Don't leave me alone with a girl who I desperately am in love with. What if I say something stupid. What if the conversation gets stale. You need to stay and be my wingman. Ah Alec, he should know by now that you can't have a three way intimate relationship. Unless you're really kinky, or a polygamist. Which I (and I hope he) is not.

Art and I walk away slowly down the hall. Once out of reach, Art questions my actions, which I am fairly used to. “Are you sure you should've set him up like that?”. I answer truthfully “I'm not sure to be honest, I didn't really set him up, they just wanted to talk I guess. I just wanted to let them be alone”. Art mulls over what I just said for a second, he tends to do this, unlike the average person he actually listens to what I have to say. “Next time you should just let them separate on their own, you don't want to create an awkward situation”. I nod my head “I agree, but who knows if they ever would on their own, sometimes you just gotta give people a push”. Art scrunched his lips to the side of his mouth “Can you just make sure you don't do that to me”. I look at him and see irrational worry behind his reasonable appearance. “Yeah man dont worry”.

Art and I head over for an uneventful history class. Alec is at band, with Julia I assume. The teacher, a young woman with bright eyes and a high pitched squeaky voice lectures us on the industrial revolution. I find everything interesting, but still, I can't help but doodle all over my paper. Every once in awhile I catch a glimpse of Art to my left, focused on learning all he can. After 90 min the bell rings and I groggily climb out of my seat. I crack a few jokes to Art before he leaves, as I wont get to see him until last period, and then pack my bag.

I make it out of the classroom about a minute after the bell rings, which means I will most certainly be late to my next class- Biology. I start running to the stairwell so I can descend to the first floor where the lab room is on, but quickly decide I don't care enough and begin walking. As I am passing the second floor, I see out of the corner of my eyes the girl. The Girl with the sparkling eyes and sad stare and dark brown hair. I look at her, a little too long and catch her attention. She looks at me and smiles. I smile back awkwardly and look away quickly. Im about to run down the stairs and escape the frenzy of emotions riling up inside of me when I hear her yell over to me.

“Hey Warren”. Oh my god she knows my name and I don't know hers. And I bet, with all my life, that she isn't even madly in love with me. Oh god. We only ever had one class together, last year. How does she even know my name? She must be that smart. Just a genius. A beautiful genius that remembers everything, like an elephant. Except she's not an elephant because she's not fat. I start walking over to her.

“Hey, what's up?” I say coolly despite the fact that my face is warming and growing ever so red. She looks at me with a lingering smile as if she knows how madly in love I am with her. “I was just wondering if you could help me carry these plants, they are for Ecology”. I look down and see ten baby oak trees in individual pots. A person could only carry five max, they weren't heavy, it's just the pots were too big. “I mean I'm supposed to be at Biology, but…”. She looks apologetic “Oh, I'm stupid, of course you have class”. I blush more and feel like a complete idiot “No, no, I can make time, it's fine”. She looks back as embarrassed as I am, I see her pinching her arm. “No, No really, I got this”. I stutter “U-umm, okay” I start to walk away. “Bye Warren”. I say bye back.

I am down to the first floor when a dark heavy bomb blew of broken emotions blows up in my chest. I want with all my heart to just stop existing for a second. Or maybe at the very least float far far away into the deepest darkest recesses of the universe so I don't have to ever be close to the awkward situation that just happened. I lean up against a wall and wait for  to stop hating myself. I'm really late to class. I'm sure Alec is confused as to where I am, seeing as we have Biology together. I can't go to Biology yet though. Something inside me won't let me. I think it has something to do with the image of this beautiful girl struggling to carry ten pots alone. I need to help her. Yep, I'm going back into the storm of awkwardness.

I start sprinting back up the wide staircase, thinking the quicker I get back up there the less of a fool I'll be. I start panting and feeling light headed at the top. Once I regain my composure I walk over to the girl. Shes sitting, cross legged, adamantly staring at the pots, as if she's trying to will them to move with her sad stare. “Hey” I yelp a little too loud. She seems startled, but her eyes light up when she sees me. “I felt bad when I left, um, Ill help you carry these pots”. She jumps up to standing position and walks towards me. “Thank you”. I walk over to the pots and pick five of them up, she grabs the other five.

We start heading over to the ecology room, which luckily is on the second floor. “Say Warren, what was your last name again. I feel stupid, we had same classes last year, but I forgot, and I want to add you on Pictagram”. “Meyers”. “Well, if you want to add me, my user name is CourtneyHoughton17”. Thank the lord, now I have her name. Courtney. Now feeling more confident, I speak to her slightly less nuerotically “Its kinda bummer we dont have any classes together this year. I mean like we didn't really know eachother that well last year, but that one project we did together was fun”. She smiles a smile of many meanings. “Yeah. That solar panel car project was so much fun”. I laugh an awkward little laugh. She laughs and looks down at her feet.

We make it to the ecology room and I walk into the classroom behind her. The teacher Mr. Brown,  an old man with wiry grey hair and ennobled features, looks at us expectantly but seemingly easygoing. “Courtney and Warren, so glad you brought me my trees”. There is a humorous tone to his voice, but he seems for the most part genuine.”Now Courtney, take a seat”. Courtney quietly muttered “See you later” and sat down next to kids dressed in worn out clothing and brightly dyed hair. “And Warren, I expect you need a pass?”. I nod my head. “Okay just take this”. He hands me a pre signed tardy pass and goes back to teaching. I mutter thank you and shuffle out of the class.

By the time I make it back to Bio the class is a quarter of the way through. Alec is looking at me confused and I have no face I can make to  express the experience I just went through. So instead, I just shrug. My teacher Mrs. Clemens, who is a mean but sensitive old lady gives me the dirty eye until I hand her the pass signed by Mr. Brown. After that she softly tells me to sit down. It is a little known fact that Mrs. Clemens is in love with Mr. Brown. I hobble over backpacks and sit next to Alec.

Unlike in history where I retain some ability to focus, in Bio my entire  attention  fades into nothingness. Instead of paying attention, I pass notes all class, and doodle on Alec’s paper. Every once in awhile I throw a paper ball at my friend Matt, who is looking more and more unamused.

After Bio ends, I rush out of class with Alec trailing behind me. Now, it seems, he wants answers as to what I was up to. I give him the lay down, minus some of the extreme awkwardness.

“So what you’re telling me is that you got given a god lucky chance to talk to a girl you've been creepily in love with since last year”. I am about to object to part of his statement, but decide against. “Yes, pretty much”. Alec raises his eyebrows at me speaks in a crescendoinv voice “Soooo, are you going to prom”. I cross my arms and look at him scoldingly “Leave me alone”. Then I remember something “Sooo, how's it going with you and Julia”. Alec blushes deeply and looks away. “Alec c’mon”. He mumbles incomprehensibly to the untrained ear “We’re going to prom”. I smile for him, and then pat him on the back. “I always knew you were a ladies man.

The rest of the school day kinda flew by, which is weird, seeing as school usually never seems to end. I am supposed to go see Mrs. Leonard's because I'm failing Calculus, but instead I beeline straight for track. The day is easy and calm. Birds tweeting, clouds  lingering in the sky, the sun raining down gentle rays.

I lay down on the green faux turf soccer field with Art and just look up at the sky. The sun  hurts my eyes, so I just squint. Art has a pair of sunglasses on that are clearly for utility, not show. People are already warming up around the track which wound around the soccer field in one great red loop. Art usually always follows the rules, but when it comes to running, he is willing to break a few.

“Art?”. He looks over at me, making sure to make eye contact. He's always like that, showing respect as if I deserve it. I do appreciate it. “Yea?”. “You ever wonder why we try so hard? Like with school were always just working for grades, and track for times, and I just don't get what pushing me”. I couldnt really ask other people the questions I do Art. We never have been afraid to get philosophical. Its part of the reason why I really appreciate my friendship with Art.

Art broke eye contact and looked up at the sky. I couldnt see his eyes, but I could guess they were wistful, the sun reflecting off his shades. “Ive thought that too (Art has thought of just about everything)  we try so hard because there's no other option. Those that give up don't make it far in the world, obviously being a tryhard is an advantageous trait. I guess the real question is do you want to live? And if your answer is yes, then you will try hard because struggle is living”. Even for Art that statement is profound. I stand up and look at his shades “Holy s**t Buddha you've just enlightened me”. Art didn't really smile or look complemented like most people wouldve. Instead, he gave me an inquisitive look, to question if I understood what he was saying. I got serious again “Yeah, I get what you mean though. The hard path is the only path, so people have to take it” Art nods and takes off his sunglasses. “You know what I just realized Warren? We’re talking about the hard path being the only path as we skip the warmup for track”. I laugh and pat Art on the back. “Let's get to running then ya tryhard”.

That night I dreamed a haunting dream. Not haunting as in fear, but as in constant discernment that I cannot shake. I stood in the middle of a pond, the bottoms of my feet feeling the cold murky water that somehow supported me. Fog rolled over everything. There were trees, black dark and enveloping, on the edge of the pond. I heard a roar, as deep and ancient as time itself. Somehow it spoke as it roared, I knew the speaker was a bear. The brown bear that flickered to black in my past dream. Come. Dont Wait. Come. Dont Wait. I saw eyes gleaming through the fog on one side of the pond. Behind me I heard a voice, it was lovely and sweet. I would say it was Courtney’s voice, but really it wasn't. It was more angelic and pristine as if it belonged to the heiress of heaven who had yet to see the horrors earth had to offer. Stay. You are safe. Do not fear. I didn't know what to do, so I laid down and looked up in the sky. I saw Bear, as an innocent puppy with downy fur and big floppy ears skipping around among the clouds. And then he stopped. He looked at me calmly and barked, but he didn't bark, he roared like the Bear. And then for a moment he changed into the beat that has so haunted me. I was petrified. I woke up to the dark. Consuming panic overtook me and refused to let me sleep. I replayed the dream in my head over and over and over again waiting for day to come.

By the time it's Friday, I am dead tired. The dreams won't stop. They are a constant reminder that no matter how hard I try, I can't escape my subconscious. If only I knew what the dreams actually mean. I get that they are about Bear the dog, and an actual bear, but aside from that the pieces aren't coming together. The deep metaphorical meaning is currently locked away in the confines of my mind, only to be found when I fall asleep.

Anyways, I shouldnt be that pissy. I do have a field trip today after all. My homeroom teacher, the best person ever, Ms. Clemens is going to be my guide. Ms. Clemens is an anomaly in the way that she actually understands students. She isn't confused why kids are always on their phone, and she isn't surprised when the smart kids in class turn out to be partiers. Unlike most teachers, she hasn't forgotten what it was like to be a high schooler herself.

Besides  Ms. Clemens being a great lady, she's also really smart. I'm looking forward to her explaining everything at the Museum of Fine Arts. Usually, I'm not very excited for field trips because the school tends to take us to the boringest places possible. Last year, astoundingly, the school had the nerve to book a tour of a textbook factory. Who even thinks to do that?

On the bus heading into Boston from Weymouth, where the MFA is located, I sit next to Art and across from Alex, as usual. Art is ecstatic about going into Boston, although I can only tell because I know him so well. He keeps on telling me of all the new exhibits that are opening up and his favorite artefacts. Alec on the other hand keeps rolling his eyes and making jokes. I feel a little like both of them, excited, but still dissuaded by the entire notion of a school trip.

“Honestly Warren, the Samurai exhibit, it is an accurate representation. I can not say this for any other museum”.