A Walk in the Woods

Samuel went for his evening walk. It was an early sunset, the kind of evening when everyone rushed home for comfort and company. Samuel had neither, so he walked, scarred wooden cane in hand, into the woods to assuage his solitude. He loved the outdoors in any weather and every season, especially Autumn. Waning light and a chill blanketed Samuel like a well-loved patchwork quilt, not unlike the ones Lucella wove for Andy and Rachel on nights like these after Supper. Plumes of hearth smoke

snaked through the air, from the fires that cooked hearty meals for his weary neighbors. The distant howl of a predator, the hum of a tempest through towering trees, and the melody of a lone bird, an imperfect family of divine creation, welcomed Samuel.

As he wandered, Samuel followed an abandoned path for hunters. His boots tramped

through leaves like oars lapping waves in a lake. It didn’t catch his eye until he passed the trap—a paw streaked in a thick coat of crimson. Samuel jumped when its sharp claws curved a lazy greeting. 

“Samuel.” The cub choked as Samuel stumbled into the gnarled arms of a birch branch, and a crack echoed through the darkness.

“What’s happening?”  

“Help me, Samuel!” The bear struggled against the metal, a shallow gash across its neck, a rivulet of black blood bubbled across its chest. "Please, I can’t get out.”

“That’s the purpose of a bear trap!” His eyes flicked through the trees in anticipation of a full-grown bear in search of its offspring.

The cub groaned. “I’m dying. I won’t hurt you.”

“Who are you??” Samuel’s eyes were mile wide dark saucers.

“I think you know my name. You’ve known me forever, Samuel.”

“How do I know you won’t kill me if I save you?” The bar under his throat was connected to a bulky link chain. Samuel had never seen evidence of a bear family, but where there was a cub, its mother could not be far. No one would know where to find his remains, if his choice for mercy led to his undoing. 

Yet, Samuel felt a twinge of sympathy for this tortured creature. The trap was the worst type of prison for a being whose only offense was a life lived in its own habitat,

with the misfortune of being too close to those who encroached upon it.

The blood on the cub’s neck had disappeared, the gash a buckle in rain-starved asphalt. He took a small step closer and left enough room to bolt. Was it possible? A bear cub caught in a trap in the woods he walked, with the face of the plush that eased his nightly terrors as a young child? 

A cruel older kid in the next bunk tore Samuel’s teddy apart and left it on his pillow. The other kids laughed at him and promised to steal his bar. They hated him for what seemed like no good reason, perhaps because he was small, or when he cried for his family every night.

When the mistress of the orphanage handed him that soft furry friend one day, Samuel held and hugged it the way he dreamed the family who would show up to adopt him might embrace him someday, when they arrived to take him to his forever home. A warm place, with a soft bed, where they served honey-laced cider and buttery cookies on fall evenings, small kindnesses to mend his tiny broken heart and expel every fear.

Samuel knew what he considered now was illegal, not to mention dangerous for those who enjoyed the woods. When he prodded the pin beneath the chain, the bar shifted. He tried again, pressed harder on the tip. The door opened. The cub expelled drops of blood that barely missed Samuel’s cheek, and he held his cane against waist, as the bear crawled toward him.

 “Please don’t follow me. Just go find your family.” He inched away without turning his back on the cub.

“I couldn’t find my family. They’re all gone now. I’m all alone.” 

“What?” 

The cub waddled and stopped at his feet. “They’re gone.” Its bleeding had slowed to a trickle, and Samuel’s eyes widened, struck by vulnerability and disbelief. Had he finally lost his mind, as his former wife often told him? How could this happen?

Samuel pulled his sweater tighter on his shoulders. “It’s getting darker, I have to get home.”

The cub’s voice crackled as if leaves lodged themselves inside his airway. “I can protect you, Samuel. I’ll stay outside.”

Samuel shook his head. “I’m breaking the law, and I won’t feed you. I can barely care for myself, much less a wild animal.”

The bear stared at him, a sadness in his brown eyes. “Do I look wild?”

Samuel pushed the cane forward and continued to retrace his steps. The wind had died down, and he could no longer hear the birds. Maybe the creatures that usually accompanied him on his journey home sensed the danger that he somehow chose to ignore. 

“Aren’t you lonely, Samuel?” The bear tapped his right boot, his arms stretched upward.

He planted the cane in the soft earth. “How are you like this?”

“I will make a home in the brush. Thank you for your help, Samuel.”

He turned back to the cub before he closed the gate. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“You are welcome. I am here for you, always.” 

Samuel shook his head again, walked up the porch and slammed the front door. From the back window, he watched the cub toddle towards the flower bush, its blooms wilted but not completely faded in the glint of the Hunter’s moon. When it disappeared, Samuel squeezed the curtain. Puffs of dust floated above his head. 

The tears on Samuel’s pillow didn’t dry until just before dawn. 

Later, when he stepped outside into the misty dawn, Samuel stopped short at the end of the path when he saw it. A teddy bear, a plush one this time, sat on a bed of grass. Its crimson paws were outstretched, like a toddler begging to be scooped by a kind adult. 

When Samuel held the teddy bear, a spicy scent sent him back in time. Tears spilled onto the sleeve of his cardigan. He never saw the injured cub again, and he never left home without his new friend.