The Bear is Back

My mother and I were living in a big house with a lot of people. A bear lived with us. Or came inside frequently, invited or not. It was part of the evening's entertainment to watch the bear. Look! He's interested in the books. Look how he stands on his toes when he wants to reach something! Just like us! Sometimes he swayed to the music on the stereo, and it was almost like dancing. But when we watched the bear we had to hide the little girl who lived with us. It was a given that a couple of people would hold an old sheet up in front of her while we spied on the bear so he would not see her and eat her. I was terrified of the bear and hid behind the sheet with the girl, fighting my hysteria while my housemates looked at me disapprovingly. One night the bear came into my room. I crawled out my window into the damp, grassy yard. "Mom, mom, help me," I called. She was coming, she said. But I woke up before she got there. There I was, safe in my bed, the water a gray-green early morning sheen outside my window.

This isn't the first time I've had a bear dream. And there's another bear dream here with a wonderful analysis by my friend Jules. And of course, there was the the bear that wasn't actually a bear.

Bears. In real life I am fucking terrified of them. I do like to see that goofy news footage though when a bear shows up in someone's Jacuzzi. But I'd be heading off to a hotel if it was my Jacuzzi.