Bear Read Free Page B

here and after that we’ll decide what to do.“Having spoken quickly and nervously, he looked towards the dark trees at the back of the lighted house,shook his head,put his hand on her upper arm, and guided her up the verandah steps. At the front door he said that she ought to try to come over to the marina by herself in the motorboat tomorrow. If she didn’t arrive by four, he’d come over and see what the matter was. The trick was to turn left when the river mouth opened into the main channel.Then he called his son and beat it.

Chapter 4
    She went inside and sat down, dazed, at the kitchen table. She heard the sound of the motorboat going away, then nothing. She opened two doors so she could see the crackling fire in her bedroom. So this was her kingdom: an octagonal house, a roomful of books, and a bear. She could not take it in. She was stunned by it.There must be aword for such a wildly happy find—joy, luck, whatever it was come by chance: ah, serendipity. Without giving up her work(which she loved), she was deposited in one of the great houses of the province, at the beginning of the summer season and in one of the great resort areas. She was somewhat isolated, but she had always loved her loneliness. And the idea of the bear struck her as joyfully Elizabethan and exotic.She lit the gas-lamp in the kitchen easily enough: held a match to it, turned its key, and heard it pop softly alight.Under its warm glow she filled the kettle with a dipper from a graniteware pail of waterby the sink. The water was cold and smelled of sulphur. The house was cold now too. She made herself a cup of tea and took it into the dim bedroom, where she sat on a long, curving sofa in front of the fire, staring into the flames. By what crazy luck she had come to this place she would never know. “I will be happy,” she whispered to herself.One of her country uncles used to say when his luck turned good, “I’m sitting with my feet in a tub of butter.” Her feet were cold. She took off her boots and toasted her socks at the fire. Half stretched out, she realized she was exhausted: joy was tiring. She rummaged in her baggage for her sleeping bag and laid it out on the sofa. The colonel’s huge bed behind her looked both formidable and damp. She tidied the kitchen, turned out the light, unhooked her brassiere, and slid fully dressed into the sleeping bag. Still listening to the fire, she fell asleep.She woke early. She was cold. Very cold. She pulled her sweater down and her sleeping bag up, wriggled until she was comfortable, and prepared to go to sleep again. Meanwhile, she sniffed the cold, fresh air and remembered where she was. The house smelled of woodsmoke and new grass.At seven, she got up and put her boots on; went outside to survey her kingdom.It was a grand one.A hundred yards o friver front had been turned into wide, just-greening lawns. Along the bank stood a row of magnificent, evenly spaced maple trees coming into flower. Beyond them, the river stretched silver, curling around its shoals, and disappeared into scrawny birch and brush again. There was no sign ofany other habitation.She stood on the riverbank quite still, conscious that every motion made a foreign sound, even her hands rubbing in her pockets for warmth. She savoured the newness around her, the yellow wands of scrub willow at the edge of the bush, the listing boathouse, the green buds of the trees, then turned to face the incredible house.
    Its faceted white bulk gleamed in the early sun; its black-roofed verandahs hung like an apron over the first floor. The windows of the second storey were broad and shining. From its roof, two chimneys and a windowed lantern rose like the crown ofa hat. She could hardly believe its perfection.Then she remembered the bear. This was not a dream. That man, that man Homer, had told her that behind the house there was a bear. It has seemed a wonder fully strange idea at first, but it appeared there really was a bear. By now,