The smell of smoke burns my nose and distracts me from my fishing. I've eaten pretty well already, if I do say so myself. I have a whole pile of salmon bones next to me. It's hard to believe I didn't even know how to fish a couple weeks ago. 

Since I'm definitely not going to be able to concentrate with that horrible smell in the air and it is already starting to get dark out, I might as well go see what's going on. If there are hunters nearby, I'd better find a new territory again. I'd like to avoid getting shot again. My shoulder hurts badly enough as it is.

I follow my nose to a clearing about a mile or so from the road that borders my territory, limping all the way. Staying in the undergrowth, I examine the small campsite that has been set up.

There is a tent on the far side of the clearing. Whoever set it up was smart enough to put there food into a bear hang. For those of you who don't know, that basically means they put their food in a bag high up in a tree where bears like me wouldn't be able to reach it. 

What really catches my attention is the campfire in the middle of the clearing. Two people are sitting side by side next to the fire, roasting marshmallows and chatting. One of them is someone I never thought I'd ever see again: my mother. She looks different from the last time I saw her a little under a year ago. She seems happier and more relaxed.

I don't recognize the man next to her. He looks like he's about Mom's age. His hair reminds me of a messy bird's nest, a heap of brown. As he talks, he keeps his blue eyes fixed on my mom and rests his hand on hers. She's smiling.

"Maybe now isn't the best time to approach her," Orson says.

"Hang on. I need to check something," I say, feeling my hackles start going up. What is Mom doing with this strange man? She'd  better not be doing what I think she is.

I creep closer, inching through the undergrowth until I reach the edge of the clearing. There conversation is easy to hear over the gentle crackling of the fire.

"So, Alice," says the man, "you seem to know an awful lot about these woods. Where on earth did you learn all these tricks?"

"They're hardly tricks," Mom says, suppressing a laugh. "They're just basic camping procedures."

"It still seems odd for a lady like you to know so much about this stuff." He rubs the back of his head with his hand, blushing. "I suppose it makes sense since you write about this stuff all the time, but you seem to know everything from how to start a fire to how to find plants we can eat. By the way, that mushroom omelette you made this morning was delicious! You'll have to give me the recipe."

My dad's recipe. I dig my claws into the ground.

"What's the matter?" Orson asks. "They're just talking."

"Sh!" 

"I learned a lot from my husband before he died. That bear took away everything I loved ," Mom says. The man gives her hand a squeeze. "Well," she continues with a tired grin, "not everything. At least I have you now." She kisses the man on the cheek.  

"Didn't you say that humans only ever take one mate?" Orson asks.

"They're supposed to," I say.

My whole body feels numb as I watch the man return the gesture. "Don't worry," he says. "Nothing could ever make me leave you." He pulls back for a second. "Forgive me for asking, but didn't the two of you have a kid? I thought I heard some of the rangers talking about him once."

"We did, but he got very sick not long after Ulysses died." She hides her face in her hands, sniffling. "Would you mind if we don't talk about him? It's still hard to talk about what happened." 

She's making it sound like I'm dead. Of course, I wouldn't expect her to tell anybody about what she did to me. Who would want to talk to somebody who had abandoned their kid?

"Of course, honey," the man says, wrapping his arms around my mom. "If it makes you feel any better, I think they were both lucky to have you in their lives."

"Thanks, Walter." Mom wipes her eyes. "Come on, we'd better go to bed early today. Those trails aren't going to hike themselves tomorrow."

As the two get up to put out the fire, I walk into the clearing, growling. They both back up when they see me. Mom keeps herself in front of her boyfriend, her hand inching toward her pocket.

"Stop it, Bernard," Orson says. "I know I promised I'd turn you back if we ever found her again, but I'll never make you a human again if you scare her off. Don't you want to go back to the way things used to be?"

I shake my head. Things can't go back to the way things were. Dad is dead; Mom wants to forget I ever existed. Nothing I do can change that.

"How dare you," I say with a snarl.

Neither of them understands me. Of course they just hear me growling as they tremble like leaves in front of me. That's all they need to hear.

They might as well know what's happened to me though. I jab my claw into the dirt and write my name down. 

Mom gasps. Walter swears. "What kind of demon bear is this?" he says.

"I don't know," Mom says. But she does. I can see it in her eyes. I won't let her forget.

I draw an X over my name. It doesn't matter who I used to be; I'm just a bear now. A predator. An animal.

A monster.

I charge toward my mom, prepared to attack the man she wants to replace my father with. As I lunge forward, she pulls something out of her pocket. 

The spray hits me moments before I can snap my teeth around the man's leg. My eyes burn as if they have been stung by a thousand bees, but Mom doesn't stop. She keeps spraying the liquid agony into my face until I run from the clearing screaming.

My eyes water as I run. Dozens of branches snag my fur as I flee from the pain.

"I warned you," Orson says with a sigh.

A searing pain stabs into my skull. I sneeze my eyes shut, but it doesn't stop.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, gritting my teeth.

"If your going to act like any other of the unpleasant, nasty, aggressive bears we've seen, you might as well think like one too," Orson says.

It hurts. It hurts so much. 

Make it stop. Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!

GRR!