Bearbaiting

Each drop of snow was a reminder of the time he was losing. A huge hourglass that would rise and suffocate him. In the far distance shone the lights of a town; golden and beautiful. To the bear it was brighter than the sun ever had been. Tall, sharp trees surrounded him the white snow doing nothing to dull their intimidating nature like clown make-up on a snarling hound. The tiny imprints left behind by smaller animals were the bear’s only indication that life went on outside his prison. Black bars interrupted his view, a reminder that even in escapism he was trapped. She said it was for their own protection, against animals and thieves. The bear knew the bars were for him.

The bear sat in his favourite spot in his favourite pub with new discomfort. Both the scraggly mass of hair on his face and the impending conversation caused him to itch all over.

‘Woah I almost don’t recognise you!’ came a call from nearby. The bear turned and saw a familiar man whose face told him the full story. You look like shit. Are you okay? The bear wished his friend had asked that instead.

‘She likes it.’ The bear spoke carefully pulling a paw through his beard.

‘Let’s get some drinks, shall we?’

‘I better not. I just wanted to let you know … in person … that we are moving away.’

Why hadn’t the bear asked for help? Because you are weak. Yes, the bear was weak, too weak to escape. The bear dragged himself away from the window and went back to cooking. In this he found solace. Again, and again his eyes were drawn to the unlocked front door, the portal out into the world. He had never so much as touched the doorknob, never dreamed of stepping outside. Was that something to be proud of or just another twisted sentiment? The meal was ready for her arrival.

Car lights pierced the darkness outside and the roar of the engine eviscerated the soothing tranquillity. She entered and threw off her snow-covered outer layer. Beneath she was haggard beyond repair. Without thought, based on instinct alone, the bear approached her, and they shared a shivering embrace. She was frozen to the touch. The bear could feel her sap his heat like a leech. It hurt but like a mother feeding its child he acquiesced for it was simply in his nature.

While they ate, she spoke only of herself, of her work and the lengths she was willing to sacrifice herself for success. It was like a record on repeat to the bear, all thoughts of making comment were beyond him now. All that brought focus to his haze was each bite she took of his meal.

Fire roaring and snow still falling the bear sat and waited. That, after all, was his primary profession. She moved and achieved while he watched and waited. She returned dressed casual and all traces of make-up removed. In that moment he felt the dwindling embers within get a breath of new life. She was beautiful after all, perhaps beautiful enough to justify all this … She sat next to him and held him close, close … close. That crush made the bear purr with content and then it was over, she let him go and produced her laptop. His allotted time was done.

There was no chain, there were no dogs. There was only love and there were only self-doubts.

Her returns grew later, her touch grew colder until when they embraced, he had no warmth to give. She worked harder, became frailer and he could only watch. Confront her. I have. Confront her again. It will change nothing. The bear was a bystander to her self-inflicted punishment, her torturous ambition and caustic ego. She would go through anything for success, but she dragged the bear and all who cared for her along for the ride.

Nobody else would want the bear. Nobody else needed the bear, not like she needed him. Frost began to appear on the curtains, the shower water was always ice cold. She didn’t notice, to her nothing had changed. The bear shook, his teeth chattered. This was going to kill him. Whatever was left of who he was would not survive the cold. Soon he would be numb to it, acclimated to perpetual ice.

‘I think we should split up.’ The bear thought looking at her across the dinner table. ‘This isn’t working. We are too different. I can’t deal with it anymore.’

‘If you leave me, I will have no one.’ He imagined her say. ‘You will drive me to suicide.’

He began to think only of the door. There had to be more to life than this house, this freezing place. Tonight, the bear thought, tonight I will tell her.

In silence he watched her eat. ‘I think we should split up.’ He thought.

‘What a waste of five years.’ He imagined her say. ‘Neither of us will be happy again.’

‘We aren’t happy now.’

Warmth returned to the bear at last. An internal inferno ignited: anger. It all became so easy. The bear wasn’t to blame for any of this! It was all. Her Fault. She had ensnared him, entrapped him, seduced him and now had him all to herself. Her lifestyle and work regime were unhealthy and insane. Her body was the bait, always in his peripherals egging him on. Pity was the chain around his neck, pity for her …

‘I am not a bear.’ the leech said to himself. ‘And this has to end.’

The conversation was quick and both sides were civil. She was honest and knew that what he said was true. Her side of the story was difficult to hear but just as true.

The man’s foot hovered above the snow. The door was open. It was done. Not yet, not until he took that step. She was still inside … he could beg, he could cry. He took a deep breath and felt the non-existent chains tighten around him; imaginings of sudden passionate make-up sex teased him. He let the breath out and took that first step. Now it was over.

They promised to stay friends and in touch but once a leech is pulled off it is best left alone.