What Are We Going To Do?!

They were all staring at me, their Girl Scout leader.                                                

“What are we going to do?” panicked one of the Brownie Scouts, her cheeks bright red with worry and brows furrowed with a tinge of frustration. She had been holding that map for ages. Now, we were all standing here in the middle of a circle of trees and plants and grass and logs and sticks and creepy crawlies on a campground—like an audience encircles an act at the circus. Only our guests are evil bugs and eviler mosquitos antagonizing your nights’ sleep and pestering my life!               

“Well,” I threw my hands on my hips, and rolled my eyes. “I don’t know. Nearly all our camping gear’s been hijacked by someone. Now, what would be great would be if we could all move from this stupid campground to somewhere exciting—”  

Rooooooaaarrrr!

Everyone screamed, and I strived to keep calm myself, but the screaming girls only dashed away from our dirt circle to where we had last left camp. Not far, but not better, either. I wish they had picked a better spot—like…

I turned around—at least they were somewhere else, like away from this snorting bear before me. I thought, one of them could really spew out a phrase so random I thought it came from the bear itself!

Grrrroooooowwwllll! The bear reared up on its hind legs. It swung back a mighty clawed paw. If it weren’t for my flashlight—   

Whoops! It nearly tore my arm off! Stupid, stupid. Then I stood still and growled, roared and made my nails look like claws, swiping at the bear all the time. Then it stopped, looked at me and then fell back onto the ground, shaking it a little. Holding its stomach, the bear laughed and laughed, sometimes slamming its paw against the ground. Once it had finished making fun of me, the bear shook itself and bared its teeth. Then it looked at me, sad eyes meeting hard ones. Then it started sniffing at the ground, and looked up at me, like it was asking innocently whether I was going to pick dandelions with it. I kept looking at those longing eyes, like it lost its way, and needed a home.

I checked myself, and looked at it once more. Sadness almost rained on me. I couldn’t help but feel bad for it.

“Funny.” I said gravely. I had stopped all antics. I looked over. The girls were cowering behind a log, all eyes huge and mouths open. I went back to the bear. “So,” I started nonchalantly, “you want to have a picnic?”

And you, the bear seemed to say, roar and growl and everything else a bear does! Can’t you wear a smile for once?

“Yeah,” I flicked my eyebrows up and down, “I do. So where’s our stuff?”

The bear continued looking at me with those big brown eyes, and I blinked, rubbing under my nose. It whined, and was already turning around slowly. I mean, I wasn’t going to say goodbye to it! What was I, two?   

“Stole it all, bear!” I glowered at the animal (not caring whether my troop was whispering about me by now and perhaps even giggling) and then marched off towards them. They all wanted to meet the bear, but I said this was some kind of fantasy dreamland we all somehow landed in, and we needed to get to base so we could all go home. “You don’t want your parents coming to rescue you from Mr. Smoky Bear, do you?”

“Smoky Bear?”

“Yeah!” I looked at the ten-year-old like she had just woken up from a nap. “The bear is sad about something. It’ll be on the news by today. Let’s go!”

“Hey!”  

I skidded to a mean halt just as the voice was let loose. The bear, I sensed, wanted to come and, what, be a Girl Scout? Hiding my smirk, I swung around, growling at it. I mean, in my tone of voice. “Get lost, Smoky!”

The bear was standing off a little way, but I didn’t want it getting close. I was already worried for the girls. I didn’t need accusations to start hurling my way. I already had the past to run away from. Again.   

“Doesn’t matter!” I waved everyone on. “Please—let’s go before we have to camp here another night—”

“Ms. Reggers, we can’t go on. We don’t have all our stuff, remember?”

The girls’ voices all chimed in after this one, making me groan. I was about to just bolt, leaving everything and everyone, but I looked at each pitiful face, smeared with dirt and bits of eggs and last night’s S’mores chocolate and marsh mellows. “I’m sorry. But we’re not going to drag some bear into our troop—”      

“Ms. Reggers.” An older Brownie. “Have you ever thought of throwing some jam on that peanut butter? I mean, stop being so stuck to frustration and irritation. I’m so tired of these half-exciting days. We hike forever, and then we sit and eat S’mores and then we sleep and then we go home. I mean, can’t we just have some fun?”

Every girl looked at me, their eyes wide with wonder and excitement and fear and hope. I looked at all of them. “Yeah—just so long as this bear doesn’t come with us. He’s a bear—he’ll eat us.”

“You don’t know that.”

I whizzed around. “How many Smoky the Bear—”

“If he’s Smoky, then can you be the awesome, fun Girl Scout leader you had been until this trip?”       

Everyone’s pleading eyes bored into mine until I bit my lip and bobbed my head. After all the cheering, we decided to head to the bear’s hideout. One of the girls told us she could talk to animals and said he’d be back with safe berries and other food. I’d rather starve. I gave it to him. He wasn’t going to eat us in the night. We weren’t that good.

It was probably midnight. I snuck out of my sleeping bag, and slowly crept away from the crackling fire of the cave’s interior, hoping the sound would overlap my footsteps. When I was in the forest again, I bolted. Dashing away from this crazy place, I hightailed it out of there, making it all the way to my car. Somehow, I had my keys in my pocket.

“Girls, I’m…sorry I have to fetch you one by one after I run this car into the freaking cave!”

I climbed into my van, started the engine, put on my seatbelt and maneuvered the gear to D. I threw my sneaker onto the gas, but then gasped and settled myself down. Closing my eyes after seeing something suddenly in the dark, I hoped it wasn’t one of the girls escaping without any of the others. Breathing very slowly, I rolled down the window. “H-hello?” I stammered. “Is that—Chelsea? Hannah? Melody? Courageous? Rhoda—”

The thing made no reply, but sounded like it was sniffing at something. I rolled my eyes, and yanked my head in, the headlights glaring at the trees and other foliage. I resituated my car so I could pull out. The headlights lit up that sad bear! Again, its eyes sparkled with sadness. It blinked, and I squinted. Is this some kind of trick? I stared, and looked at the bear for a moment. Then I looked around—no other car, I felt, was there. Then I watched as the bear turned and galloped away.      

I sat there, my mind racing. I ran into someone who could very well be Smoky the Bear. I have a group of girls sleeping in a bear cave. This despondent bear’s somewhere else, probably snoring away before he awakens to tell me to grow up and love the cute little bunnies and whatnot. I pinched myself. What am I doing? Why can’t I just be happy? It’s just a weekend full of adventure!

I exhaled, knowing I had a group of girls for whom to care. I couldn’t just ditch the whole thing again. Dragging me to every boring office meeting, Mom planted me in a corner and told me to come up with something to do because the place was as fun as were office cubicle colors. So I sat there, using my imagination until I hightailed it out of there, settling in the city. I was only in high school, so running away was freedom! Until I took this stupid volunteer job as a Girl Scout Leader. It didn’t even pay.

I looked up and saw the bear again—it returned for some reason. It was, like, telling me something the way it stood there, not letting me drive away. At least it didn’t let me. I felt I had to stay here, despite my hatred of bugs and gnats and creepy crawlies. Its sad eyes really did look sad to me. I sighed, and parked the car. I got out, walked up to the bear and actually clung to its fur as it took me away into the forest and back into the cave. Letting go, I saw that the girls were all asleep. The fire had died out.

I looked at the bear. Someday, the bear’s eyes seemed to warn, that fire of yours will die out—and how will you respond?

I stared. Was this really Smoky? Why’d he savage everything of ours, and take off? I hissed threats at the bear, and he turned his head. Those sad eyes still bored into me, but I didn’t feel weird. I didn’t know how to interpret it. Then the bear lumbered off.    

I balled my fists. Rage filled my body. How dare some animal take my stuff and just walk away! I grabbed some of the hot coals (no matter them burning my tender flesh), and hurled them at the bear’s head. It cried out in pain, trying in vain to avoid the sharp objects as I hit it again and again. Innocence didn’t matter—its eyes said it wasn’t the thief. Still, I dug up clumps of dirt, hurling them at the wincing bear. Finally, it ran away. Yeah, I spat. Go tattle-tale on me!

“Ms. Reggers, why’d you do that?”

“Because!” I thundered. “I hate it! I hate this stupid volunteer job. I hate this stupid so-called camping adventure. I hate it all. It just reminds me of how boring and lame my mother’s office meetings were. Just—”

“If you’re in charge of us, why can’t you just overstep the frustration and lead us? Lead us away from the danger, like you always do. Just do it with a happy heart. You’re always thinking of the times you need to go home, or when you have vacation. You don’t need to be so frustrated, you know? Just be with us. We want to be with you—not just under you!”

I looked over—Meg was half-way out of her sleeping bag. She was propped up on her elbows, looking up at me with wondering eyes. I pursed my lips. I don’t know! I just know I used to almost be able to hug the city itself. I had friends. I had a great job. I had a great life. Until I got fired. Until I landed here to escape my mother moving to the same city.           

I told her to go back to bed—she reluctantly wiggled down into her bag and closed her eyes—and waited until she was fast asleep. Then I released myself from this bear cave, from this Girl Scout troop and from my memories. The thought of the bear’s sad eyes came to mind. I knew I had sad eyes, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I didn’t want to babysit some group of girls I didn’t know and who could be watched just as well as Smoky and his so-called brother, Sad Eyes. I hiked on, not knowing where I was going.

I didn’t know, but I didn’t care. All I knew was I was leaving my own past behind—letting it simmer down into nothing but forgotten ashes of a fire that had fueled too long and heated too hot. I was done with torturing myself. I was free to do as I pleased.

Just like that moment in the city when I walked away from everything I knew.

I was finally going somewhere. Somewhere I didn’t have to hold anyone’s hand or meet any crazy creature. I was going somewhere I knew was my own. My own life.

I was my own person. No one was going to force me to become or be anyone else. I was going to make my life my own.

I was on my way, hiking through the woods. If the girls were raised by Smoky, so be it.

My cellphone chirped and rang throughout the night. I shut it off, annoyed with the incessant calls from assumedly frantic parents wondering why I wasn’t picking up. Maybe my mother should’ve picked up, I thought bitterly, crossing a wide stream, instead of sat me down for thirteen years. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone at all. Left.     

As I traveled deeper into the woods, worry coated my throat, spreading panic through my bones. Those parents would sue, the police would find me and I’d be put in jail for negligence—

I returned. That morning, I awoke, telling the girls they could have all the fun in the world with Smoky the Bear. They all threw a party (with the berries and other stuff his family brought them), but I hurried this camping adventure along so they were all back at their parents’ cars in the campground, brimming with exciting memories and crazy stories. As their parents gawked at them and then asked head-scratching questions, I backed away the last girl’s car, smiling.

I’m free, Mom! I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes. I called the authorities, they released me from my Girl Scout duties and I’m on my way! As I drove, I was glad I hadn’t just up and abandoned those girls altogether. I went back to them, and then exited their lives altogether. The sad bear’s eyes bore into my mind, but I shook it away as I drove up the driveway to the road leading to the rest of the world.

So long, Sad Eyes. Too bad you’ll be forgotten—just like my mother’s when she begged me to stay one more meeting and then, when I ran away, to get a real job. At least volunteer for something, as I had no idea what job to take to support myself. So long.

See you again—in the city!  

Girls’ voices filled my head. Their enthusiasm for life and vigor for the Girl Scout activities and badges echoed around the car, as if they were all in this very small van themselves. I sat up all the way—but they weren’t. They were back with their parents, never seeing me again. And I never them again.

I had an interview tomorrow. I woke up, get dressed and entered the company’s meeting room.

Then stopped dead in my tracks.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey.” She got up and went around the table, arms outstretched. Wrapping me in a hug, she whispered, “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it! You’re back.”

I shook myself away from her.

“Work for me. I’m the hiring manager!”   

But I melted her cheerful grin into a frown. “No, Mom.” I turned around, exiting the place and everyone else like that bear had me back in the cave. I’m not serving some self-centered jerk! Texting her goodbye, I walked away.

Left the city—

My cellphone rang.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“Honey,” she began to sob, “I’m sorry. Sorry for always dragging you around, never letting you have the freedom you deserve. Please go where you please. For me?” She begged. “You understand, right?” Through her tears, I could hear the sincerity. I was tempted to yell at her, threaten to dismiss her but I didn’t.

Just looked down, and sighed. “Yeah—I hope so.” I clicked Off, and continued somewhere where I’d know I belonged. Somewhere where I’d—

I woke up, looked around me. The girls were all sleeping. So had I been. I got up, wrapping a blanket around myself and headed over to the campfire in the middle of the cave. Sitting down, I took out my cellphone I had just realized was in my back pocket. Slipping it out, I felt a sense of freedom—something I couldn’t explain.

“Hey, Mom? I—”

“Hey honey! You won’t believe it. I got hired as the hiring manager at her company. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah—Mom, I forgive you. I don’t just say that. I really mean it. And great—you got your awesome job!” And before she could gab about her future, I clicked Off, and then put my phone down. The weight of my past had slipped off my back like a backpack I could no longer carry. Please know I hadn’t felt like this at all. I celebrated with a marsh mellow and chocolate from the camping stuff over yonder. Someone had saved that stuff, of course!

I looked my girls, all sleeping in sleeping bags and tents. One girl cried out from, she whispered fiercely, a nightmare and crawled out from her sleeping bag. Seeing me on a log, she joined me. “Whatcha doin’, Ms. Reggers?”

“Just basking in the joy of—”

“Can I have one?”

I directed her, and she lunged for the yummy snacks. Bringing one back, she cozied up to me. Soon, all the Scouts had joined her, me emitting a weary sigh. That one girl could talk to animals, so I guess we had special powers. I tried seeing if I did, too. Soon, I looked into my reflection at a stream—I had shapeshifted into a bear!

And went searching for that sad bear.