Being the Bear

Boris moved over to Moose and looked directly at him. "You saved my life." He hugged the bloody, dust-covered bear gently, wincing with pain as he did so.

There was more ominous creaking. "Let's get out of here... now." Vic said.

Rusty helped Moose limp out of the tunnel while Vic did the same for Boris. René led the way, holding a flashlight in each hand. The others followed behind. They had just reached the mouth of the tunnel when there was a loud rumble from deeper within the tunnel. A gust of fetid air was followed by a thick cloud of dust and grit.

"Move! Get away!" Larry shouted. One more loud crack sounded as the opening into the mine shaft collapsed, spilling debris at the mouth of the tunnel. Rick was knocked down by a large rock that rolled out, but otherwise, there were no more injuries.

Boris's face had been scratched badly but was rapidly healing. His right wrist appeared to have been broken when Moose fell on him, but otherwise, he was remarkably unharmed. His clothes were torn to shreds, as were Moose's. Rusty had found two more deep lacerations on Moose's left shoulder and right leg. Walt spoke quietly to him while the others were sorting themselves out and dusting off.

"If you lick the wounds, it will help them heal faster. They look pretty deep, but they should heal OK. Your Moose is one tough son of a bitch." He hugged Rusty. Still in half form, Rusty nodded and fell to work using his elongated ursine tongue to help heal his lover.

As pulse rates and breathing returned to normal, Vic looked around. "Now, this is my idea of a fun road trip!" There was moment of silence, then Larry started to giggle. René started to laugh and soon all the bears were laughing, releasing the tension of the last days and minutes. Snake alone wasn't laughing. He was closely watching Moose and Rusty, eyes intent. They widened as he watched the edges of the deep cuts on Moose's shoulder and back gradually close as thick scar tissue formed to knit them together. He watched Rusty change to his human shape. He looked around and indeed all the bears that had changed to rescue Moose and Boris had regained their human appearance.

"Shit. You weren't kidding, were you? About the injuries and the healing up." Snake had gotten very quiet.

"Werebear's natural processes are all accelerated. As long as the injuries aren't catastrophic or the head severely damaged, we can heal remarkably well." Robert said.

"And I'll be like that?" Snake asked quietly.

Robert nodded.

"Coulda used that in Desert Storm a couple a times." Snake muttered.

"And reveal to your buddies just what kind of soldier you were? Being a bear has its advantages, but it isn't always as easy as it seems." Robert's face was friendly, but his tone was serious. "Being a bear imposes some, ah, unique restrictions.

"I was pretty good at hiding things in the service." Snake said

"Some things are easier to hide than others," Robert said. "Your body will heal whether anyone is watching or not. You can't control that. If you were unconscious and a medic was tending to you..."

Snake nodded and turned back to watching Moose, but his face was more thoughtful now.

Meanwhile, Boris was trying to flex his broken wrist and failing. The grind of bone on bone could be clearly heard. Moose hugged Rusty. "Hold off a minute, OK?" He walked over to Boris, still a bit wobbly on his feet but feeling much better.

"Boris, let me look at that. Don't move it, just hold still." Boris looked at Moose, who answered the unasked question.

"I'm a physical therapist, not a doc, but I've set bones and relocated shoulders and done a lot with sports injuries, too. Here, let me feel." Moose moved his large hairy paws over Boris thick wrist. It appeared to be still swollen and was lumpy as well. Moose looked intently at the wrist and felt carefully. His thick, blunt fingers were surprisingly gentle. Boris's face was impassive, but his eyes narrowed with pain.

"Uh-huh. Hmmmm.... Vic. Hold his forearm and don't let it move. Rusty, take his hand and fingers, hold them tight. When I tell you, pull. Steady, not a jerk. Don't let go until I tell you." He looked up at Boris. "I'm going to press when Rusty's pulls. The trapezoid and capitate carpals are pushed up and out of place, but not broken. I'm going to press them back into position." He paused. "It'll hurt." Boris nodded.

"Ready?" Boris, Vic and Rusty all nodded. "Go."

Rusty pulled, Moose pressed and twisted, Vic grunted and Boris yelped.

"OK, you can let go." Moose stood back, while Vic let go of Boris's arm and Rusty released his hand. "Try moving it now."

Boris gently flexed his hand and wrist. It hurt like fire, but there was no more grinding noise and the joint moved freely. Boris grinned and gave Moose a one-armed hug. Moose hugged back.

Boris looked at Moose and Rusty, still covered with dust and blood. "I was right about you two. You have both come in very handy on this little adventure. I was right to listen to my gut." He patted his belly. "Always listen to your gut."

Once they had changed to more presentable clothes, Vic asked Boris, "Is there a town anywhere near this god-forsaken place?"

"About a half an hour's drive from here, I believe. I fear there won't be a Hilton there."

"I don't care what kinda flea-bag joint it's got, as long as it's got a shower." Larry growled. The others nodded agreement.

The three vehicles and the bikes carefully made their way back up the rutted track towards the road, leaving behind them the remains of eight bears and one old farmer, mingled together, deep down in the earth.

Overhead, the moon was just beginning to rise in the evening sky.

Chapter 12

The run back to Boris's house in British Columbia was uneventful, especially after the happenings of the past days. The release of nervous energy after the explosion and elimination of the rogues had affected each of the bears differently, but Boris's and Moose's near miss in the mine shaft had sobered them all. Each of the bears seemed to be eager for the trip to be over now and to be back in familiar surroundings. The two survivors of the blast were taking things rather differently. Snake was naturally anxious, still not knowing fully what to expect in the weeks ahead. Rick was very quiet and rarely spoke more a sentence or two at a time. Relieved now of worry about the rogues, the others were beginning to think once again about their normal lives and all the usual problems and interests that entailed. Moose and Rusty especially were concerned about how they would arrange their lives. They had been staying at Vic's place as Moose had his first change, then waiting for Rusty to have his. Boris's phone call had pulled all of them away and propelled them into the events of the past couple of weeks.

The Trans-Canada highway climbed steadily into the Rockies, but traffic was sparse, and the convoy of three bear-laden vehicles closely followed by two motorcycles made good time. At a pee and rest stop the next morning, Moose and Rusty were talking as they got out of the front of Boris's Suburban. Rusty had been driving to give Boris a chance to rest his wrist, which was still aching and tender from its dislocation. His snores could be heard from the back seat. Rick had finally fallen into a fitful, dream-disturbed sleep as well.

Moose kept insisting to Rusty that he was fine and fully recovered from being half buried alive the previous day, but Rusty wasn't buying it.

"Be a tourist. Rest up. Sit back and enjoy the scenery. Boris marked the map for me, so I'm good." He looked at Moose with concern in his eyes. "Take it easy. Sleep if you want. I'm fine, really."

Moose reached for Rusty and enveloped him in a bear hug. "Always worrying about me, ain'tcha?" He squeezed him again.

"You know I do."

Moose kissed his lover and looked him in the eye. "I love you, you worry-wart."

Rusty hugged Moose tightly. "You know, I've been thinking. We both look different enough that we should probably consider a move when we get back home. You can work anywhere, your skills are portable. A PT can find a job just about anywhere, and certainly you could open your own office if you wanted. This might be just the time to do that. My pension goes with me, at least for the next twenty, thirty years. When we have to move again before people notice we aren't aging, you can still be a PT somewhere else. But my pension won't go on forever. Maybe I should start thinking of something to do, you know, to sort of give me something to do in my next life."

Moose started to giggle.

"What? I'm being serious here." Rusty couldn't quite bring himself to glare at Moose, who's belly was now shaking with laughter.

"I just had this mental picture of chubby, hairy Celene Dion, standing on the prow of a ship, singing, 'My Pension Will Go On'" Moose flung his arms out and leaned forward. He ducked, but didn't quite avoid Rusty's well-aimed swat.

"THAT'S for ruining a perfectly good movie," Rusty said, grinning from ear to ear.

They climbed back in the SUV. Rusty folded the map and tucked it into the sun visor. "You know...."

"Uh-oh. I know that tone." Moose was still smiling at his mental image from Titanic. "You're planning something."

"Well, I like coffee, and you like coffee. What about a coffee shop? I mean a nice one. Comfy seats and a couch and some arm chairs, newspapers, live music some nights, maybe an open mic night sometimes. Fresh roasted beans, we could sell those, too." Rusty's eyes had a far away look.

"You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at," Moose grinned.

"What's with all the movie quotes? You don't think it could work?"

Moose smiled at his lover. "No, Rusty, it's a good idea and Charbuck's needs competition. It would provide a good cover for you; for me, too, for that matter. And when we have to move on in twenty years or so, we could open another one someplace else. People have been drinking coffee for a long time, I don't see them stopping any time soon."

They continued their discussion as they drove westward. Boris quietly opened one eye and listened for a bit, then smiled and went back to sleep.

In the next vehicle, conversation had lagged. Robert was focused on the road when Snake broke the silence. Snake had been looking out the window at the scenery, but now looked over at Robert. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure... what's on your mind?"

"Well, you remember when Boris was, um, sniffing at me?" It was obvious that Snake still found that more than a little strange.

"Yeah."

"Well, he said something about me being 'kin'. Now, I know nearly all my family, and I know none of them are Canucks, and none of them have visited there... so how could I be 'kin'? And none of my people's got a name like Boris."

"Snake, when Boris said you were kin and that that would make things easier, he wasn't talking about blood relationships, at least not like non-weres would. What he meant was that you have a...," Robert searched for a word to describe what he was trying to get across. "You've got a genetic 'affinity' for weres. No, not exactly that, but... Look, when someone who isn't kin is changed, either with their knowledge or not, it usually goes very badly. The new were often goes mad. They simply can't take what the change does to them mentally. Their minds just can't cope. Most kill themselves, not always an easy task for a were. A few manage to hang on to a part of their sanity, but those often become dangerous, unstable, giving in to their animal side completely. They become savages, but savages with a human cunning and deviousness. They are the most dangerous of all, rogues. Some of the ones you fell in with may have been like that. Certainly Sebastian wasn't taking care to change only ones who were kin. Rick said something about Sebastian possibly killing one of his earlier 'recruits', likely because of that.

Snake pressed Robert further. "So what if you are 'kin'?"

"It means that your body will adapt more easily to the changes. Another werebear still needs to change you, but you are more predisposed to being one of us. It mostly means that your mind will accept what happens to you without losing sight of your humanity. It means you will have more control of your bear when he comes out. You will remain in control, the bear won't control you. Mind you, you will have to work at that control, it doesn't just happen. And the first change is painful and sometimes difficult. That's why its so important for the one who changed you to be with you, so you can learn from their experience."

Snake looked anxious. "But that won't happen with me, will it. I mean, he's... Kyle's dead, right?" Snake thought for a moment. "He probably wouldn't have known all that much about it, anyway, would he?"

"Most likely not, Snake. He was young, and had probably only just recently gone through his first changes himself. But don't worry too much. One of us will be with you. You know you're welcome to stay with us for a while, until you get your bearings." Robert waited for Snake to continue.

"It's strange. I'm scared by all of this, but I'm kinda looking forward to it, in a way. I've always liked big, thick, hairy guys. Being in a room with all you, naked... well, that's like every wet dream I ever had, all rolled into one." Snake paused, and his next thought came out almost as a whisper. "What if I lose it? What if I go nuts and eat people... or drink their blood?"

Robert laughed out loud at that. "Hell, man, you're mixing up your movie monsters! You don't think we're going to let you run rampant, do you? Pillage the countryside?" Robert stared straight into Snake's brown eyes. "We don't eat people, Snake. And bears stick together. We'll be there for you, don't worry. You'll be in good paws." He paused. "You'll do fine and none of us has ever run amok and devoured a village, even our first time changing." He smiled and put a heavy paw on Snake's thigh. For the first time in hours, Snake seemed to relax.

"Robert, have you ever... you know... changed someone?"

"Once, a long time ago; it didn't work out." Robert stared out the window. "Boris says the wise bear thinks three times before changing someone. Just because a person is kin doesn't mean he'll make a good bear. After all, Sebastian was kin and look what he did. He was a risk that Steve was willing to take for love. I know that if Steve knew what kind of trouble Sebastian would cause, he never would have changed him. I think it's a good idea to watch and wait, maybe for years before taking that step. Once it's done, it's done. There's no going back." He looked over at Snake.

"There, now I've gone and made you worried again." He patted Snake's thigh again. "You're a stable, responsible, disciplined man; you'll be fine. Still, being a bear isn't all fun and games, and that's the gods' honest truth. You just lived through an example of the not so nice part; but it isn't such a bad life, you know. There are compensations, some of them quite nice. Think about it... who else gets the chance to re-invent themselves every twenty or thirty years; change their lives pretty much how they want?"

René, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. "And continuous good health is nothing to sneeze at either, if you'll pardon ze, how you say, pun."

Snake smiled. "No more aches and pains, huh?"

"Exactement, mon ami. No colds, no flu. No cancer. No AIDS. No heart disease. No arthritis..."

"OK, OK!" You've sold me... where do I sign up?" Snake was grinning now.

Robert looked ahead out the windshield. "You already have."

They drove on in silence.

Later, stopping for fuel in the early afternoon, everyone was stretching. Vic bought some newspapers and handed one to Larry. They scanned them rapidly, searching for any news stories about bodies or mine shafts or mysterious explosions. They found nothing.

"We had the radio on news channels all morning in the truck," Mitch said. "No news."

"And in this case, no news is very much good news. I'd be more worried about that barn and the explosion than the mine, though," Vic said. Walt nodded.

"Well, nada 'bout either one," Larry said, folding up the paper and handing it back to Vic. "Looks like we dodged a bullet this time, boys!"

"This time, mon ami," René said soberly. "But what of the next?"

"Yeah... ," Larry said, more quietly.

The hours passed along with the miles, with the bears taking turns at the wheels. By nightfall, they had reached. Boris's place. The filthy vehicles pulled up, flanked by the mud-spattered motorcycles. A brief thunderstorm outside of Sicamous had turned the road dust to mud, streaking the SUV's and making them look like entrants in a cross country race. Everyone piled out, stretching and talking.

"Bozhe moi, I DO like road trips, but it's good to be home," Boris exulted, working the kinks out of his back. "Oh, leave the stuff, Robert. A good soak in the tub and then bed for all of us, I think." He was already moving up the steps to his house.

"I'm for that," Vic said. Vic, Robert and the rest followed Boris up the steps and into the house. Boris listened to the message machine and decided that nothing was life-threatening. Robert hurried downstairs to fire up the hot tub, and the others hit the bathrooms to relieve themselves and to shed clothes.

Rick and Snake stood in the large living room, looking somewhat lost. Each avoided the other's gaze. Boris held up a paw as he finished listening to the last message. Larry came back into the room, naked and drying his hands on a towel. Boris gestured towards Snake and Larry nodded.

"Come on, Snake, I'll show you where the can is."

Finished with the phone, Boris put an arm around Rick's shoulders. "Come with me and I will show you the downstairs. You can help me get the cover off the hot tub, and there is a bathroom down there as well." Rick gratefully followed Boris.

Having used the bathroom and helped with the cover, Rick was listening as Boris described the view out of the large sliding glass doors that opened on the deck.

"You can't see as much in the dark, of course, but in the daytime or with a full moon, the view is spectacular." Pine scent wafted in the open door. Rick stood and inhaled. Behind him, the others were coming down the stairs, naked bears intent on a relaxing soak in the large hot tub. Within moments, Vic, Walt, Rusty, Moose and Mitch were all settled in the tub, each sighing, eyes closed and reveling as the heat soaked into their tired bodies. Snake and Robert were the last down the stairs. Boris and Robert joined the others in the tub, and Rick, a bit reluctantly, joined them. Boris made room for him and patted him on the shoulder.

Robert stared as Snake and Larry approached the tub. "Damn, will you look at that thing? He's hung like a cart horse!" His eyes tracked from Snake's crotch down the length of his thigh, following the tube of man flesh that lolled against it.

"If that thing ever gets hard, there won't be room in here for the rest of us," Vic chuckled, looking up from the hot tub.

"I ain't pretty, but in some circles, I'm popular," Snake grinned. "My daddy used to say I'd been whupped with the ugly stick."

"Well, some kind of stick, that's for sure." Larry got in the tub and made room for Snake next to him. "You get longer when you get hard? Or thicker?"

"Well, mostly just hard. I do get a little longer, and the tip flares out some, too. Wanna see?"

"I think this is something that will take an up-close inspection. A prolonged, up-close inspection." Larry grinned back at Snake, his eyes crinkling at the corners with good humor and lust. "How about we postpone that inspection and soak up some heat first?"