“Hi,” Alan yelled over the sound of the rain.
The person didn’t reply. They approached at a fast walk.
From the gait and height, Alan decided it must be a man. He couldn’t see the person’s face and their shape was hidden by the poncho. Finally, the brim of the hat tilted back a little and Alan saw the man’s mustache.
“Mr. Harper?” a low voice asked.
Alan had to lean forward to hear him over the rain.
“Yeah. You’re the game warden?”
“Yes, I’m Rick Prescott. So what’s the issue?” Rick’s hands moved under his poncho. Water dripped from the man and formed a damp circle on the floor of the shed.
“Hi Rick. I found something on the porch. I think we met before—didn’t I meet you on the Mill Road?”
“Yes. Why don’t you show me what you found?”
“It’s an animal carcass. I’m a little worried about it,” Alan said, pointing. “It’s this way.”
He led the warden back out into the rain and they walked along the side of the house. Gallons of water were pouring from the metal roof. Alan had to swing wide around it to avoid the splashing cascades. He was relieved when they came around the front of the house and the thing was still on the porch. He’d imagined that the carcass would be gone.
“That’s it,” Alan yelled. A gust blew back his hood. He clamped it down with one hand and pointed with the other.
The warden approached and then knelt next to the porch. His poncho flared out as he crouched and he looked almost like a child wearing a big skirt. He seemed oblivious to the rain.
Alan moved to the side to see. He didn’t appear to be doing anything. The man was just crouched, with his arms resting on his knees, looking at the white bones and organs that were being drenched by the rain.
“What do you think?” Alan asked.
The game warden stood and waved to Alan. His poncho billowed behind him as he led the way up the drive at a brisk pace. Alan splashed through the soggy grass to keep up. The warden reached the back of his truck and lifted the back lid to the cap. It provided a tiny amount of shelter from the rain.
“I’ll bag this up and take it in for pathology, but I assume that it’s a cub that was attacked by a male,” the game warden said.
“A male what?” Alan asked.
“Black bear. The males will kill and eat the cubs.”
“But just the skin? Isn’t that a little weird?”
“They do the same thing with fish this time of year,” the game warden said. “The skin has the most fat, so they focus on that. They get the most energy from that.”
“Why would it leave it on my front porch?”
The game warden shrugged. He leaned under the cap of his truck and came out with a bag.
“I’ll be done in a few minutes. We’ll let you know if there’s anything to worry about. Black bears are pretty shy around people, but if you see one, make lots of noise and then get indoors as quick as you can.”
“Okay,” Alan said. “Do you think it’s safe? Should we go away until you catch this thing?”
The game warden shook out the bag and held it with one hand while he reached into the truck again. This time he brought out a pitchfork.
“We won’t bother to relocate a bear unless he’s a nuisance to residents. You give us a call if he turns up at your house again.”
“So you don’t think we should go away?”
“I’ll let you know if pathology turns up anything different,” the game warden said. He shut the cap lid and Alan got a face full of fresh rain. He held on to his hood again and watched the game warden walk back down the driveway. By the time Alan shook his jacket out in the shed and found his way back to the kitchen, the warden’s truck was backing down the driveway.
Alan was soaked from the waist down. His feet squished in his socks. He went back down the shed hall and locked the door again.
The boys were still sprawled on the floor in front of the TV. The popcorn bowl was on its side between them.
Alan climbed the stairs and pulled his shirt over his head. The bedroom was cold. He stripped down and shivered as he blotted his skin dry with a towel. The rain coming down on the metal roof made a lonely, hollow sound. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Alan tried the radio next to the bed. He found static there as well. Alan shut it off.
Alan dressed quickly. He hopped from one foot to the next to put on fresh socks, and then repeated the performance to put on his pants. He flicked on the lights—that helped to remove some of the gloom from the bedroom. The daylight coming through the big window was gray and heavy, like it was wet from the rain. Alan pulled on a sweatshirt. As his head popped through the hole, he opened his eyes to a gloomy room again. The lights were off.
Alan counted.
When he got to eleven seconds, he heard the generator fire up. A second later, the lights came back on. The light pulsed with the uneven power from the generator. Alan smiled.
“Dad!” Joe called from downstairs. “The video shut off.”
“Turn it on again. The generator is on,” Alan yelled.
He put his wet clothes in the bathtub and went back downstairs. Joe and Pete had started the video again.
“Don’t you guys get sick of watching the same thing over and over?” Alan asked.
The boys didn’t have a chance to answer. They heard a distant honk from outside. Alan walked through the door and then into the den.
“Pete, I think your mom is here,” he said.
Pete was already collecting his backpack and heading for the kitchen. Joe followed behind him.
“Message me if you want to do something next week,” Joe said as they walked.
Alan dug through the hall closet and found an umbrella. He opened it in the shed. Pete was already running through the rain to the car. Alan followed, approaching the driver’s door just as Pete was closing the passenger’s door behind himself. Alan waved at the glass. He could barely see Pete’s mom as the interior light in the car went out. She didn’t turn to him or wave back. The car started rolling backwards.
“Hey,” Alan called. “Hey.”
He stood and watched the car back down the driveway. When it got to the road the car turned and jerked to a stop. It accelerated away quickly.
That’s goddam rude, Alan thought. He retreated to the shed. I’m fucking wet again.
In the kitchen, Joe was sitting at the table.
“What happened to your movie?” Alan asked. He sat down and took off his shoes. He threw them on the tray next to his other wet shoes.
“I’ve seen it,” Joe said. “How long does the generator last?”
“I don’t know,” Alan said. His socks were dry. He removed his jeans and threw them in the dryer. “Depends on how much electricity we use. Days though, at least. I have to change the oil every other day if it’s running continuously.”
Joe looked like he was going to ask something else, but instead he cocked his head.
“What?” Alan asked.
“Don’t you hear that?” Joe asked.
“All I hear is the rain. That metal roof makes so…”
Joe shushed him and held his hand up. Alan walked into the dining room and listened.
“I don’t hear anything,” Alan said, but as he finished the statement, he did hear something. It sounded like…
“Is there someone upstairs?” Joe asked. Alan looked back at his son. The boy looked terrified.
What am I supposed to do? Send him outside where there might be a bear lurking around?
“Stay right here, Joe. Don’t move,” Alan said. He moved to the hall and reached to the back of the closet. His hand came back with a broom.
It will have to do.
“Don’t go,” Joe said from the kitchen.