forests, foraged for food, mated.
“Of course, we don’t get them like that up here. All we get is black bears,” Fat Boy said.
“No,” Rose said, keeping one eye on the television and one eye on Fat Boy.
“You’ve got to go out west to get a real bear like that. Those boys would eat our bears for breakfast.”
Rose nodded. He was looking at her as he talked.
“They don’t frighten me though. I’ve been out in British Colombia and Alaska. I’ve seen grizzlies.”
There was something strange about the way Fat Boy was talking. He wasn’t just making casual conversation. She knew that. He was edgy, tense, maybe even a little crazy. She was scared.
“Is that right?” she said.
“I’ve come this close to one,” Fat Boy continued, stretching out his arms to show her how close he’d come to a grizzly. “Face to face.”
“What did you do?”
“I just stared him down,” Fat Boy said. “He come up to me and stopped dead, not three feet from me. He saw something that only animals can see. He saw me for what I really was.”
There was something sinister about the way he was talking. It was almost as if he was reliving the memory.
“What’s that?” she said, already afraid of what the answer would be.
“He saw that I wasn’t a man at all, but a monster.”
Rose let out a little cry. She hadn’t meant to, but there was something deeply disturbing about the way he was talking. She was so vulnerable. He could do anything to her, even kill her if he wanted to. She didn’t want to hear him talking like this.
“I had a .375 Ruger and I raised it up and pointed it right in his face.”
“And pulled the trigger,” Rose said.
“That’s right, little lady,” Fat Boy said and nodded.
There was definitely something wrong with Fat Boy. He didn’t talk like a normal person. Everything about him was edgy and irrational. It seemed to Rose like anything could happen. She was so uneasy that she was shaking in fear in the bed as Fat Boy continued his rambling.
“That bear didn’t know what hit him,” Fat Boy said. “He just roared out.” With that, Fat Boy let out a roar of his own. He leaned forward in his chair and roared like a bear. He actually looked like a bear. He had thick, strong limbs covered in dark hair. She could see how hairy his chest was through the open buttons on his shirt. He had a beard. He was dirty. He was the type of man that people would describe as looking like a bear.
He stopped roaring and then burst out laughing.
“Minute later and he fell down dead.”
“That’s terrible,” Rose said.
She didn’t know what he wanted to hear but she knew he was expecting her to react to the story.
“Terrible for that bear,” Fat Boy said and continued laughing.
Rose didn’t see what was so funny but she let out a half-hearted laugh of her own. She wasn’t enjoying talking with Fat Boy but it was a lot better than the alternative. She’d talk to him all night if it would mean he wouldn’t lay his horrible, hairy hands on her.
He got up from the chair and went over to the grocery bag. He’d forgotten that he’d already drank the last of the beer.
“Damn,” he said. “I should have brought more over. Or maybe I shouldn’t have made you drink so much,” he said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Rose said.
“Oh well, I have my reasons, little miss,” he said and sat back down on the chair.
That worried Rose. What possible reasons could he have for getting her to drink a few beers?
XII
I T WASN’T LONG TILL SHE found out. About two hours had passed since Fat Boy had forced Rose to drink those beers. He’d been sitting, watching the television and she was lying there, naked, tied to the bed. She tried to watch the television too, it was a way of getting her mind off the situation, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything. Fat Boy chain-smoked and flicked the channel so much that anytime she started to get lost in a story, he’d switch it.
And gradually
“Of course, we don’t get them like that up here. All we get is black bears,” Fat Boy said.
“No,” Rose said, keeping one eye on the television and one eye on Fat Boy.
“You’ve got to go out west to get a real bear like that. Those boys would eat our bears for breakfast.”
Rose nodded. He was looking at her as he talked.
“They don’t frighten me though. I’ve been out in British Colombia and Alaska. I’ve seen grizzlies.”
There was something strange about the way Fat Boy was talking. He wasn’t just making casual conversation. She knew that. He was edgy, tense, maybe even a little crazy. She was scared.
“Is that right?” she said.
“I’ve come this close to one,” Fat Boy continued, stretching out his arms to show her how close he’d come to a grizzly. “Face to face.”
“What did you do?”
“I just stared him down,” Fat Boy said. “He come up to me and stopped dead, not three feet from me. He saw something that only animals can see. He saw me for what I really was.”
There was something sinister about the way he was talking. It was almost as if he was reliving the memory.
“What’s that?” she said, already afraid of what the answer would be.
“He saw that I wasn’t a man at all, but a monster.”
Rose let out a little cry. She hadn’t meant to, but there was something deeply disturbing about the way he was talking. She was so vulnerable. He could do anything to her, even kill her if he wanted to. She didn’t want to hear him talking like this.
“I had a .375 Ruger and I raised it up and pointed it right in his face.”
“And pulled the trigger,” Rose said.
“That’s right, little lady,” Fat Boy said and nodded.
There was definitely something wrong with Fat Boy. He didn’t talk like a normal person. Everything about him was edgy and irrational. It seemed to Rose like anything could happen. She was so uneasy that she was shaking in fear in the bed as Fat Boy continued his rambling.
“That bear didn’t know what hit him,” Fat Boy said. “He just roared out.” With that, Fat Boy let out a roar of his own. He leaned forward in his chair and roared like a bear. He actually looked like a bear. He had thick, strong limbs covered in dark hair. She could see how hairy his chest was through the open buttons on his shirt. He had a beard. He was dirty. He was the type of man that people would describe as looking like a bear.
He stopped roaring and then burst out laughing.
“Minute later and he fell down dead.”
“That’s terrible,” Rose said.
She didn’t know what he wanted to hear but she knew he was expecting her to react to the story.
“Terrible for that bear,” Fat Boy said and continued laughing.
Rose didn’t see what was so funny but she let out a half-hearted laugh of her own. She wasn’t enjoying talking with Fat Boy but it was a lot better than the alternative. She’d talk to him all night if it would mean he wouldn’t lay his horrible, hairy hands on her.
He got up from the chair and went over to the grocery bag. He’d forgotten that he’d already drank the last of the beer.
“Damn,” he said. “I should have brought more over. Or maybe I shouldn’t have made you drink so much,” he said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Rose said.
“Oh well, I have my reasons, little miss,” he said and sat back down on the chair.
That worried Rose. What possible reasons could he have for getting her to drink a few beers?
XII
I T WASN’T LONG TILL SHE found out. About two hours had passed since Fat Boy had forced Rose to drink those beers. He’d been sitting, watching the television and she was lying there, naked, tied to the bed. She tried to watch the television too, it was a way of getting her mind off the situation, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything. Fat Boy chain-smoked and flicked the channel so much that anytime she started to get lost in a story, he’d switch it.
And gradually
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