#jerry-bear

The park was especially beautiful at this time of the morning. The sky had that kind of pre-dawn glow that made promise of a glorious sunrise and the wilderness felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for the new day to start. A few birds gave voice to premature song - testing their voices for the chorus to come - as the early-rising grazers snuffled around in the undergrowth seeking out the tastiest morsels before the morning rush turned breakfast into a melee. 

There was a slight chill in the air, not unexpected for the time of year, and a haze of mist clung to the dew soaked plants lending the grove an almost mystical quality.  A handful of stars still painted the sky between the drifting clouds, as if the Night was trying to hang on a little longer and witness the new dawn as well.  Somewhere overhead the Moon would be slowly gliding towards the opposite horizon, pursuing Night's velvet cloak across another slumbering place, but the towering great pines blocked her from view.  Still, just knowing she was there brought a special kind of comfort.

Everywhere felt at peace.

Jeremiah Melano - known to his few friends as Jerry - gently swung the pack off his shoulders and lowered it to the ground, being careful not to startle any of the wildlife (or wyrdlife for that matter) that would have observed his arrival.  They were almost impossible to spot in the pre-dawn light, even with Jerry's exceptional eyesight, concealed as they were among the bracken and foliage, but there was no mistaking the individual scents in that riotous kaleidoscope of forest smells. White-tailed deer, martens, thrushes and cottontails all watched carefully, ready to run at the slightest provocation. Jerry could taste their fear, each having a different flavor and texture unique to the species. It was like a taster menu, and each sensation was an exquisite morsel on Jerry’s tongue. His stomach growled loudly in anticipation of a larger meal, nearly scaring a nervous cottontail into fleeing.  Jerry chuckled to himself, carefully taking a zip-lock bag of trail mix from his jacket pocket, scattered a handful on the ground before eating any himself. A pair of Martens, their own hunger momentarily overcoming any apprehension they felt, dashed out and snatched some banana chips and roasted nuts before diving back into cover, but it was enough to give some of the others confidence. Smiling to himself in peaceful satisfaction, Jerry chewed on the mix of fruits and nuts as more woodland creatures came out to help themselves to his shared breakfast as the sun started to crest the horizon, sending out shafts of molten gold to herald the new day.

Distracted by the beauty of the moment, Jerry almost missed the scent of a young woman as she crashed through the undergrowth, but there was no ignoring the abject terror that came off her in waves. After having his taste buds teased by the nervous fear of the forest animals, this was like being suddenly slapped in the face with a piece of exquisitely-prepared Wagyu Beef. 

The wildlife scattered as she stumbled into the clearing, eyes wide in panic as the wild haired woman cast repeated glances into the forest behind her.  She wasn’t dressed for spending the night in the State Park; her dirty feet were bare and the ripped jeans that she wore were sodden and mud-stained. She was trying to hold her flimsy satin top up with one hand where the thin spaghetti strap had broken, but her hands were shaking so much that she kept dropping it. On seeing Jerry, the young woman froze like one of the woodland creatures, unsure whether to run or hide. It was clear that there was no fight in her, she was exhausted and her legs were just barely holding her up.

Jerry wet his lips as he got up slowly, keeping his hands in view and wide open, trying to present himself as calm and non-threatening. The temptation to gorge himself on her terror was difficult for Jerry to ignore, but he’d learned a long time ago not to be a slave to his bugbear heritage. He was much more than that now, a Senior Park Ranger with duties and responsibilities that mattered more to Jerry than anything the circumstances of his birth had ever given him. 

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.  I ain’ gonna hurt ya,” Jerry said quietly, turning towards the panic-stricken woman, while keeping his hands raised.  Her eyes fixed on his golden badge as the dawn’s light flashed off its metallic surface, and a heart-rending sob suddenly broke out of her.  She ran forward and collapsed into Jerry’s arms, tears flowing freely down her dirt streaked cheeks as she clung to him.

Jerry gently wrapped those arms around her, offering comfort in a soothing voice as he might to a child or wounded animal. The woman buried her face into his padded jacket, her body shaking with every sob and cry that she uttered.

Somewhere amongst the shadows between the trees, along the trail of broken undergrowth that the scared young woman had left behind in her panicked flight, a figure moved.

Raising his head, Jerry sniffed the air. There were three of them, all young males and all bugbears like him, making their way carefully through the forest towards the clearing. It was obvious to Jerry that they were in human-form, which at least meant there was a chance that they could be reasoned with. 

Extricating himself from the young woman’s grip, he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, guiding her to sit on the mossy ground behind them. She jumped and gave a tiny squeal of fear as he raised his voice to address the trio hiding in the woods.

“Y’all might as well come out into the open, fellas,” Jerry said, his voice projecting authority as he signaled for the scared woman to remain still and quiet. “I already know there’s three of you out there and it’s too damned early in the day to be chasing anyone through these woods.”

The shapes stepped out from the gloom into the new day’s light, their shadowy figures coalescing into three bare-chested young men, probably no more than sixteen years old to Jerry’s eyes. The one in front grinned at Jerry with teeth that seemed too white and too large for his thin-lipped mouth.

“Well shit, Ranger Yogi, we was just out trying to find little Darlene there… She got away from us, didn’t ya, Darlene?” 

His voice tried to drip honey and sound sincere at the same time, but there was an edge to it that Jerry recognised; hunger. The Ranger rested a hand on the handle of the revolver holstered at his hip, and returned a smile of his own towards the adolescent. 

“We both know what you were doing out here, Pike. Now you and your boys have had your fill of fun and breakfast, so why don’t you turn around and head on home now… and if your friend keeps trying to creep around me like that, I’m gonna make sure that he regrets it.”

A second boy, his cropped blonde hair spiky with sweat, froze as the one named Pike glared at him. 

“But she’s still good for a meal or two, and me and the boys is still hungry. You can taste her fear, can’t you, Yogi? My Pa told me that you ain’ much of a bugbear, but I bet you can still taste that fine terror on her skin. We might even share her with you, if you treat us nice, old man.”

“You think chasing some woman that you picked up at a bar through the woods is real fear?,” Jerry scoffed, his voice tight and low. “Your Pa’s right, I ain’ much of a bugbear ‘cos I wasn’t never scary, not like you boys. I had to learn about fear, to understand it and how it can affect folks in different ways.”

“What’s your point, Yogi Bear?” the last of the trio piped up, looking confused.

Jerry smiled. “You ever learn about the ‘Fight or Flight’ response? I don’t suppose it’s anything real bugbears like you would care much about. See, when a creature feels threatened, its gotta decide in an instant whether to run away or try to fight. It’s triggered by fear, you see - fear for yourself, fear for your home, fear for your family - and not everything runs away from what it fears.”

“Get to the damned point!” Pike yelled, taking a step forward, his eyes flashing angrily at Jerry’s still smiling expression.

“Truth is, this forest ain’ your home, boys. It’s theirs... and they know how best to protect it.”

As Jerry stopped talking, everyone gathered in the clearing became aware of how quiet the forest had become. The sun was high enough to dispel the shadows and a thousand pairs of eyes watched the scene from perch, burrow and bracken. Each pair of eyes was fearful, but it wasn’t the fear felt by prey as it ran from a predator. It was the fear from having been backed into a corner and knowing the only way out was through. A thousand pairs of eyes, blinded by the illusions subtly cast as Jerry spoke, fixed on the trio of young bugbears and as one they moved.