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“They don’t actually operate in Delaware,” one of the other bears explains. “It’s for tax purposes.”
Russel shakes his head, and the other bears roll their eyes.
“I’ve never understood why humans are so complicated,” a bear with a handlebar moustache and a crew cut opines. “Why does everything have to be so convoluted?”
“That’s neither here nor there,” Russel says, “Humans will never make sense to bears.”
The other four murmur in agreement. For the first time, I am keenly aware of my otherness. Weirdly enough, it’s not their otherness I’m aware of. They seem perfectly normal. This is their world, and they belong here as much as the pine trees belong here.
But I don’t belong here. I am an outsider, and though the others largely ignore me, I am very conscious of my difference.
“How much of the land is slated for development?” Russel asks.
“Six hundred acres,” the first bear says. “Everything here along the river.”
Russel sighs, and I see something that looks like concern on their face. “When do they plan to start clearing trees?”
“They’ve already started,” another bear replied.
Russel looks sharply at them, and his eyes narrow. “Why was I not made aware of this sooner?”
“We’ve been scaring off the lumberjacks,” the first bear explains. “They’ve been giving us a wide berth. We thought they would give up on developing the land because of the large, aggressive bears.”
I feel a stab at something not unlike guilt when he says that. I know humans well enough to know that we would never give up on taking what we want just because it negatively impacts other living things. What we would do if we ran into a bunch of large bears that got in the way of our plans is to remove the bears—alive or dead.
So I’m not surprised when Russel asks, “Why are you here now, then?” and the first bear says, “They’re bringing animal control in next week. They’re going to try to clear us out. They’d prefer not to use lethal force, but considering that none of their nonlethal rounds will harm us and we’re not susceptible to their anesthetics, they’re likely to move to lethal force sooner rather than later.”
Russel growls. He’s in human form, but it’s not a human growl, and I am struck once more by a sense of otherness. “It was a mistake to threaten those humans.”
He’s right. Black bears aren’t endangered, and they enjoy very few protections as a result. If a population of especially large, aggressive black bears is harassing humans, then it will be very easy to justify lethal force.
“This land is the only thing separating us from humans,” the youngest of the bears says. “If we lose it, we lose ourselves. We had to do something to defend it.”
Russel sighs. “I know, Caleb. I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”
“If they take this land, then we will see others hurt,” Jacob says. “We’re the only five who stand to lose our territories immediately, but this subdivision will be followed by others. You know how humans are. When they take, they don’t stop taking. Before too long, we could all lose our land to encroachment.”
There are murmurs of agreement. The disgust with which these bears view humans is palpable.
Finally, they seem to notice me. They say nothing, but the looks on their faces make their feelings clear. They don’t hate me, but they don’t think I belong here. I’m human. I’m not one of them.
I realize suddenly that for these bears—Russel included—humans really are the others. They’re not humans who can shift into bears, they’re ears who can shift into humans. I am the outsider.
I need to clear my head. This is all too much. It was fine to pretend that Russel and I lived in our own happy little paradise, but now that paradise is threatened, and to these bears, I am only a reminder of that threat.
I leave the cabin, and the fresh air hits me like a cleansing burst. I inhale deeply, but though I achieve some measure of calm, that feeling of not belonging doesn’t go away.
Russel
I am alpha, and so the bears look to me for help. They look to me for wisdom. I suppose to an extent Melody is correct, and I am some sort of a druid to them. I suppose that really isn’t all that far from the truth when it comes right down to it. I am their leader from a practical perspective, a spiritual perspective, and more.
But, essentially, this is the end.
Old man Mitchel intended to donate the land to The Sierra Club. At least when I last spoke with him, that was his intention. I don’t know what happened so that he changed his will. The Sierra Club is one of the most influential environmental organizations in the United States with a history dating back to 1892. Established by John Muir, who was actually a lion shifter from Scotland, the Sierra Club’s stated purpose was to protect and preserve the natural world, advocating for the conservation of forests and wildlife.
Last time I looked it up (and this was years ago) they had almost two million members and supporters. The bottom line is that the Sierra Club could never get away with selling land right next to a protected swath of land. Their members would never let an organization supposedly working tirelessly to address a wide range of environmental issues to get away with that.
Of course, nobody ever thought the leadership of the Sierra club would do that. They believe that by protecting nature, they are safeguarding the planet for future generations. I have no problem with them, and I appreciate that even more than a hundred and twenty-five years, the club continues to be a leading voice for the protection of forests.
