Freaking tourists. Who sets their alarm in the middle of the mountains? Jerks, that’s who.
Cursing, I roll over and wrap my pillow around my head. On the rare occasion this happens, the owner will quickly silence the blaring.
Not tonight.
They must be the soundest sleeper ever. The entire valley can hear the honking.
Frustrated, I climb out of bed and pull a sweatshirt on over my pajamas on the way to the door. I grab my keys, planning to drive through the campground until I located the asshole.
A ranger’s job is never done.
Apparently, I’m the asshole.
There is a bear. Inside my car.
The doors and windows are shut, just as I left them when I last drove my car. I think I would’ve noticed if there was a bear in the vehicle when I went to the Piggly Wiggly. I always lock the doors, or almost always.
The alarm continues to bleat. I’m surprised the entire campground isn’t storming over here, an angry mob with flashlights. Anyone sleeping through this racket seems impossible.
My car rocks as the bear moves around, thrashing her body between the seats and against the glass. How she even fits in the passenger area is a mystery.
Mesmerized, I almost forget to freak out about a fully grown black bear in my car. Almost.
From inside my Toyota Highlander, the bear stares at me through the window. She looks pissed and more than a little confused.
I know how she feels.
Gaia comes out of her cabin next door, pulling on her fleece and walking across the small porch in her socks.
“What is going on?” she asks from the top step. “Why was your alarm going off in the middle of the night? Did you hit the panic button by mistake?”
As both my neighbor and my boss, she sounds annoyed as if I’m up late, irresponsibly throwing a rager on a school night.
Light spills out from the open door of Griffin’s cabin and then Amory’s as they exit. Both are in pajama pants and their ranger jackets looking rumpled and sleepy.
“Um, Daphne? What’s a bear doing in your front seat?” Griffin points to the partially steamed windshield and the ursine carjacker staring at us.
“Please tell me you didn’t leave anything edible in an unlocked vehicle.” Gaia groans and then gives me a pointed look. “First rule around here: bag it or can it. Don’t create temptation.”
“I know. I swear, I have zero food in there. Not even a mummified McDonald’s fry under the seat. Nothing.” As the most junior ranger here, I feel the need to defend myself.
“Appears you forgot to lock it. Bear got in and has somehow she triggered your alarm.” Amory offers a summary of the events so far.
The four of us stare at the Highlander.
“Well, the bear can’t stay in there all night. She’s going to be one angry beast when she gets out,” Griffin says, stating the obvious.
“Should we get the tranquilizer gun?” Gaia takes a step down, glances at her socks, and returns to her porch. “Someone can break the window, but if we do that, we better be prepared for a freaked-out bear.”
I can’t afford to fix a broken window. In reality, the interior of my beloved Toyota is probably toast anyway.
“What’s the range on your key fob?” Amory asks, standing in the space between the cabins and my parking spot.
Pressing the button, I finally silence the panicked screeching, and the blissful silence of the night returns. I think we all sigh with relief, including the bear. The alarm is the least of our problems, though.
“Can you pop the back hatch?” Amory asks.
I nod.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” He’s remarkably calm about this whole situation. Then again, he’s generally low-key and unflappable. “Everyone is going to return to our cabins, including you, Daphne. Once we’re inside, you’ll push the release, and we’ll wait. Hopefully, our furry friend will be so relieved to be free, she’ll exit and be on her merry way.”
“Sounds like a solid plan.” Gaia backs up through her door. “We can examine the damage once the coast is clear.”
“Or in the morning,” Griffin says with a yawn. “Unless you have a pot of honey in there that will attract more bears.”
“I swear, there’s no food.” I do a mental inventory and know I haven’t left any food in the car. I never eat snacks in there.
They all give me looks that say they don’t believe me.
“We’ll see,” Gaia says, closing her door.
The bear rocks the Highlander, which groans on its shocks. She lets out a growl of frustration mixed with fear.
“Hold on, we’re going to set you free,” I tell her, not that she understands. Even so, when our eyes connect, a sense of understanding passes between us.
Once safely inside, I click the button on the fob, and the rear door softly opens.
“Turn around.” I gesture through the window. “Freedom is behind you.”
Holding my breath, I wait for her to sense the fresh air and make her escape.
“Come on, come on. You’ve got this.” I quietly encourage the bear despite being full aware she can’t hear me.
“Go, be free,” I shout through the glass.
The car shifts as the bear moves from front to back. With a quick hop off the tailgate, she scampers away and into the woods.
With a long exhalation, I silently give thanks she was able to run off on her own.
Relieved, I open the cabin’s door and spot my colleagues on their porches.
Gaia is now wearing boots and has added her jacket. “Well, let’s see if we can figure out what lured her into your SUV.”
“I swear I locked the doors. How did she get inside to begin with?” My voice trembles with emotions.
“Where there’s a will, there’s an entrance,” Griffin muses.
“There’s a way,” Amory corrects him.
“You say tomato, I say to-mah-to.” Griffin waves him off with the beam of his flashlight.
“Yikes,” she says as we peer through the open hatch. Padding and upholstery from the seats and ceiling are strewn everywhere. Claw marks gouge the dashboard and center console.
“Wow,” Griffin whispers. “This should be photographed as a cautionary tale for visitors.”
“Griff, now might not be the time,” Gaia warns him.
“I don’t see any crumbs or wrappers.” Amory’s moved to the driver’s door and peers into the front.
“There’s a shredded paper bag in the backseat,” she declares from the other side, holding up a scrap of white and what appears to be wax paper.
My stomach sinks as tears burn my eyes. “Oh no.”
“Do you remember what food you had?” Gaia asks, sounding remarkably nonjudgmental.
I sigh. “I keep telling you, I may have forgotten to lock it, but I wasn’t stupid enough to leave food inside the car.”
“Then what was it?” Amory shifts through the rubble of my backseat.
“Soap,” I say, the word barely audible. “I bought soap at the farmers’ market last month and completely forgot about it.”
“What kind of soap?” Even Griffin sounds serious for once.
“Oatmeal with vanilla … and honey.” I cover my face with my hands.