A novel
The Alchemist of Goreau — Chapter 13
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Chapter 13 — Bear Necessities
When he awoke sometime later, his situation hadn’t changed much. He was still on the back of the rampaging Carrier Bear, exploding through the woods, trees passing in a greenish blur. Some inexplicable force secured him to the back of the giant as it covered ground quickly, running only on its rear legs. Its front legs brushed away obstacles like gnats to a runner.
His circumstances broke his brain a little, and he found himself viewing his own body from above. In his dissociative stupor he found the situation oddly humorous. If he saw a strange man being carried along by a mythical creature, flopping like a wheat sack, he might question his sanity.
From some unswept corner of his mind, a funny saying came to him, planted years before by an adult offering wilderness advice.
The saying was: If it’s brown, lie down. If it’s black, fight back.
Hmm, he thought, trying to recall what came next.
If it’s a Carrier Bear, shed a tear? No, that wasn’t right.
There was no rhyme to help him out of this predicament.
The Carrier Bear belted a roar that was so jarring that it sounded like an iceberg head-butting a glacier.
This emission brought Donwillo flying back into his body, rooting him back into the reality of his predicament.
He thought about Beverly and hoped she was safe.
At that moment, as if to read his mind, she crawled out of his coat and nibbled aggressively on his neck as if to blame him for their circumstances. She must have climbed aboard the Carrier Bear as it charged towards Donwillo back near the cabin.
He took inventory of his situation. Not mauled to death yet. That’s good. In a lot of pain. That’s not good. Where the claws had gone into his flesh had left streaks of blood oozing out, wetting his shirt and coat.
He decided that if the bear had picked him up, and was taking him somewhere, that made him a human package of sorts. The gruff and indelicate way it had grabbed him and further indicated it wasn’t heavily invested in its parcel’s well-being. He wondered what other packages the bear transported, but there wasn’t much time to consider these questions as survival seemed to be a better subject of focus.
Brown, lie down.
Black, fight back.
Carrier Bear, soil underwear?
Donwillo had gone from not knowing Carrier Bears existed to gaining a lot of first hand experience with them in a very short amount of time. He wondered why he’d never heard of them before. The truth was that most who ran into a Carrier Bear often returned with a tale that was too unbelievable for the stories to gain any real traction.
He tried to communicate with the creature.
“Excuse me,” said Donwillo tentatively.
He felt a presence enter his mind, a telepathic connection form. His brain suddenly felt full of a bunch of random thoughts, sensations, and ideas that weren’t his own. He saw rainbow trout jumping upstream, a dark and cool cave, and the feeling one gets when picking deer meat from one’s enormous jagged teeth.
Beverly crawled out of Donwillo’s coat and wiggled her way through the white fur like a field mouse through tall grass, pushing away the strands as she made her way to the top of the bear’s head. This triggered something within the bear, perhaps hunger or annoyance, and it sent a telepathic message to Donwillo that said, “I EAT.” The carrier Bear reached a mighty paw over its head and snatched Beverly off its head, then dangled her above its gaping, cavernous mouth.
Donwillo summoned what little strength he had available, squeezed his legs into the sides of the bear to hold himself there, and then raised his balled-up fists and brought them crashing down into the back of the beast’s head. It roared and dropped Beverly.
The Carrier Bear was enraged and ran even faster, angrier, leaving deep claw marks in the dirt, smashing through saplings, and huffing and puffing.
Donwillo came up with a new plan.
Brown, lie down.
Black, fight back.
Carrier Bear, get above-er?
It wasn’t long before Donwillo saw the perfect branch up ahead for his risky maneuver. It stretched horizontally across the path. It was thick and heavy but not too thick. Pushing the pain aside, Donwillo pulled his feet under him and stood on the back of the bear. They passed under the branch, and it hit him square in the chest. His feet flew forward, and his arms strained to hang on. His chest ached from the impact, and when he tried to breathe, a sharp pain went through his lungs. Donwillo swung one leg up onto the branch and then another. He took a short rest. There wasn’t much time before the bear was back on him. Wincing in pain and trying to breathe through it, Donwillo used all his might to crawl higher into the tree. Progress was slow. Any minute, he expected to feel the swipe of a mammoth paw that might kill him. After a few feet of ascension, he braved a look down. The Carrier Bear hadn’t tried to climb the tree. Maybe it couldn’t climb. Instead, it was on all fours, snorting angrily, pacing in frustration.
The bear looked up at Donwillo, and their eyes met. Donwillo tried to look away, but they were locked by the piercing gaze of the otherworldly creature. He felt his body grow light and his limbs rise off the branches. He floated away from the tree and was gradually brought down to earth and set in front of the Carrier Bear.
Donwillo was out of moves.
“MISH-SHON,” he felt the bear say stubbornly, overpowering Donwillo’s own thoughts with its forceful, insistent imprint.
The bear scooped him up again, but this time placed him in the crook of a furry arm, like a baby in a basket, where it could keep a good eye on Donwillo. Then it returned to breakneck speed.
Now feeling deeply tired, more than a little hopeless, and hurting a lot, he let himself succumb to the reality of his unfortunate circumstances.
He tried to pretend he was a child again, being transported by his father from the carriage to his bed after a long day’s journey, but the image of his father was just a blur — imprecise and fake.
He let his mind go.