Chapter 12
Hours passed. The three had
slept the day through. Vic woke, the cubs were soundly asleep. There
weren't any bathrooms on this level and he needed to take a long
piss. He rolled out of bed and padded upstairs to his bathroom. On
the way he noticed the answering machine flashing. Two messages.
"I'll get those later," he muttered.
Returning from the bathroom he
pushed the button and the first message began. A distracted voice Vic
didn't recognize at first rose from the machine:
"Hi Walt… Mitch…It's
Rusty, if you're there, would you pick up? *pause* Guys, I'm…God, I
don't know how to say this *pause* Look, I'm up here in Tahoe and I
just don't know where to turn. Norman and I are at the Alpine View
Motel, it's on the main drag, we're in room 'F', please, I need you
to come, I don't know where your friend's lodge is and we need help.
Please, if you get this message soon don't bother calling just come
over. I don't think you'd believe it if I told you. Room 'F', Alpine
View Motel."
Vic raised an eyebrow and hit
the button for the next message. The almost panicky voice spoke:
"It's me again.
Please, if you're there, please pick up. *pause* I've got a real
problem and you're the only ones I can turn to. I don't have any
family and Norman's family… it just wasn't an option. Please, come
to the motel, Alpine View, room 'F' on the main drag here in South
Lake Tahoe, it's the road that comes right out of the mountain pass.
I've had to sedate Norman, he's gone wi…He's just not himself,
look, I need some help. I gave him enough stuff to knock out a horse
and he's still rousing on occasion. I can't handle him in this state.
Please, short of tying him down I don't know what to do. God I hope
you're there, I'm all alone and don't know what to do, I have no
where to turn. Please…"
Vic hurried downstairs and
woke the sleeping pair. After their heads were clear and they were
awake Vic began, "Boys, we need to get upstairs and get dressed.
Your friends from the reunion are here in Tahoe and there's something
wrong."
"What's wrong?" Walt
said, stretching out his furry, tattooed arm. Mitch listened, the
look on Vic's face was grave.
"I dunno. Russ…"
"Rusty," Walt
corrected.
"Yeah, Rusty said that he
and Norman were at the Alpine View Motel, and that Norman, was acting
strange. I don't know what the problem is, but I think we'd better
get on over there. I know right where the place is, I'll hang back
while you two see what's up… well, actually, while YOU see what's
up, son; Mitch's looks have changed rather drastically since they saw
him last. He'll hang back with me," Coach said.
"Right, I guess we better
get over there." Mitch said.
Ten minutes later the three
were headed over to the motel, Walt in one truck and Mitch and Coach
in the other. Forty-five minutes later, Walt was knocking on the
motel door.
"Who is it?" Rusty's
tenor answered and Walt could hear the stress in his voice.
"It's Walt."
"Oh thank God!" he
answered, "Just a minute." Rusty called back and Walt heard
a muffled grunt. "Can't be too bad if they're having sex."
Walt muttered under his breath.
Rusty answered the door,
opening it a crack and looking around. "Where's Mitch?" He
said as he opened the door just enough to allow Walt through and then
quickly closing the door. Rusty was fully dressed in clothes that
looked like they'd been slept in. The small, cheap motel room's
single bed had a huge lump in the middle of it covered by blankets.
The lump was breathing evenly and Walt guessed Moose was under the
blankets.
"Now, before I take the
blankets off, I have to prepare you. Moose is… different."
Rusty said nervously. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but…
I didn't know who else to ask. No one else I know has a place that's…
secluded." Rusty said.
Walt felt like he was going to
be sick, he felt a feeling of dread because he guessed what he might
see under the cover.
Rusty pulled back the covers
and was himself astonished by what he saw. Tears welled up in his
eyes, "Oh no, it's gotten worse! I haven't looked since morning,
since we made love and... he hurt me. I got the pills down him, and
tied him and covered him, he was sleeping then and breathing ok..."
Walt looked at Moose, his body
was covered in thick auburn bear fur, his features drastically
altered to that of a grizzly bear nearly in full form. He was bound
securely, but sleeping.
Rusty turned to Walt and wept
into his chest, then he looked up into Walt's eyes, "What's
happening to him?"
Walt quickly shushed Rusty,
"Listen to me, did you take him to a doctor?"
"No, he refused to go. I
tried but he said he was fine, never felt better, he was thrilled
that he was growing hair on the top of his head again… but look at
him," Rusty said, gesturing to Moose and starting to cry again..
Walt breathed a sigh of
relief; no doctors involved yet, so no medical reports filed, no
evidence.
"I gave him almost all
the rest of the bottle of sedatives, he was acting… He was very
aroused, Walt and it was hurting when he fucked me. I told him to
stop, but… he was…" Rusty buried his face in Walt's chest
and cried. "He's NEVER been like that before." Rusty was
rambling, repeating himself in his anguish.
"Look, Rusty, get a grip.
What did you give him?" Walt asked.
Rusty pulled a bottle out of
his pocket, it had four large pills still in it. "I have a
friend... never mind, it was the only way I could handle it. I've
been slipping one of these into Norman's dinner the last couple of
weeks and it's made him less… aggressive… in bed. He didn't mean
to hurt me, he was so sorry the next day. He was just so… hungry. I
didn't give him too much did I?"
"How many did you give
him?" Walt asked
"Six, I think. Will he be
all right?" Rusty pleaded.
"He'll be fine Rusty,
he's just gonna sleep awhile. Look, you need to gather up your
things. We're gonna take Moose out of here, we're gonna help."
Walt said and Rusty gave him a look that screamed for reassurance, "I
promise you, Rusty, he's going to be all right, now go on, get your
things together." Walt knew that Rusty needed something to do to
occupy his mind and hands.
Walt pulled out a cell phone
and called Vic who was in the parking lot around the back.
"Vic, I need you to see
this." Walt said, then listened. After hearing the reply hung
up.
"Who was that?"
Rusty said, pausing as he stuffed clothes into a suitcase.
"A good friend, don't
worry, he'll help." Walt said.
There was a knock at the door
and Walt answered it. He let Vic in.
Vic took one look at the
unconscious werebear lying on the bed and cursed a blue streak. Walt
put a restraining hand on his shoulder, and once calmed down, Vic
briefly and gently interrogated the now terrified Rusty and learned
that Moose had quit his job two months ago. He'd been working out for
hours on end at the gym and staying home while Rusty worked. He had
been eating tons of food but no one had seemed to notice that an
already huge man was getting larger. The hair on his head had
sprouted in the last month and his libido, already high, had
increased incredibly. Rusty had become afraid; Moose's love making
had become aggressive, wild, and had left bruises on the smaller man.
Through it all they had withdrawn from contact with others. Vic
thanked God that Rusty hadn't insisted more on Moose going to a
doctor or getting tests.
On the bed, Moose was now
completely ursine.
"Papa, I swear to you. I
ALWAYS used a condom, and I never did anything that might have
exchanged fluids with him... I swear it!" Walt looked pleadingly
at Vic.
"Go get Mitch." Vic
said to Walt. As Walt turned to go, Vic added, "And son... I
believe you."
Walt smiled at his Papa. Vic
was mad, but he still loved him.
Rusty looked again at Moose on
the bed and was beside himself, crying. He was in complete disbelief,
unable to cope, believing it all was a dream; a weird, impossible
science fiction fantasy. Vic calmed Rusty down, he held him close and
took a long deep breath through his nose, smelling the top of Rusty's
head as he hugged him. 'Oh, fuck it all to hell... it's not just
Moose, either,' Vic thought. The distraught chubby man's world was
about to be turned upside down and shaken, hard. Vic began to
carefully and patiently explain things to Rusty.
The next morning four very
large men and a smaller man left room 'F' of the Alpine View Motel. A
middle aged bearded man in his car with a striped bear paw sticker on
the bumper in browns, black, gray and white growled 'Woof' to
himself, seeing them emerge from the room together and grabbed his
swelling erection as he drove by.
The bill had been settled and
they were on their way. They squeezed into a Chevy crew cab pick up
and a Ford F-150, the tallest and largest was a huge red bearded
mountain of a man with a long red beard and bulging muscles and
package packed into sweats that were too small.
As they drove back to the
lodge, there was a little arguing, but many more questions and
answers. When they reached the lodge, all came into the entry, having
stomped the snow from their shoes and boots. Vic looked down at the
two packages he'd left on the stout bench. He picked them up and
handed them to Walt.
"Belated Merry
Christmas." He said simply and smiled wanly. "I'm going to
bed, I've got work ahead of me and I need to sleep now… I've got a
headache." Vic kissed each of them and lumbered off to his den.
Walt couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for what his Papa was going
through.
Moose
knitted his eyebrows and rumbled, "This is just… it's just so
hard
to believe." He had pulled up his sweatshirt and was looking at
all his new fur and his washboard abs. "I haven't been this fit
since I played football!" he thought, 'No,' his inward voice
said, 'not even then.'
Rusty lashed out in his
irritability. "Damn it Norman! Do you have to admire yourself
like that? In case you hadn't noticed, we've got problems! Feeling
yourself up is just a little self indulgent considering the
situation, don't you think?"
There was a shocked silence
from the others. Rusty's fears had only been partially allayed, and
his worries served to make him waspish.
"Sorry love, it's just…
I still can't believe this," Moose said. "I mean, it's just
so... so..."
Rusty
flared. "Norman, you have
to believe it. You've got no other choice… and neither do I, God
DAMN it."
Moose pulled his love to him
and bent a little and kissed the top of his head. "I know, I
know. I'm sorry. He looked deeply into the pocket bear's eyes. “ I
love you and I'm sorry… this is my fault. I've dragged you into
this mess and it's a wonder that you don't hate me for it."
Rusty
resisted for a moment, then mutely hugged the big man. Moose's
stomach rumbled loudly. "Well, at least that's
still normal." It was a feeble attempt to return to his old
satiric self.
Walt had remained silent
through the exchange, but the growls from Moose's belly offered him
the opportunity to interrupt.
"Hey, I'll get on dinner
duty in a minute, but first let's get you two settled. This way."
Walt guided the two down the hall to their room and showed them where
the bathroom was . "Mitch will be here in a sec and show you
where everything is." Walt left them to their unpacking. He knew
Mitch would sit and talk and help them both come to terms. Mitch
seemed to have a gift for that.
Rusty turned to Moose and said
quietly, "I love you, don't forget that? Even if I snap at you,
it doesn't change how I feel, OK?" He pulled Moose into an
embrace and they held each other for a while.
Walt walked back down the hall
and past Vic's room. He stood for a moment and listened.
Coach was back in his shower.
He was happy and not happy and Walt understood why. This was his
fault and it wasn't, but while Vic was sorting things out he'd be
grumpy; nothing new about that. Walt now had two cubs; though Moose,
because he'd bonded to Rusty, was more or less like a brother than a
cub. Rusty, well, Rusty was his grandson or would be in the next four
months. He was taking this hard and that was understandable. Changing
species isn't exactly something one expects to happen to them, but
Vic had given him a thorough sniffing and it certainly was going to
happen. Vic guessed Moose was close enough during their last round of
sex early yesterday, before he'd sprouted all the bear fur, that he'd
changed him; Moose's balls must have changed first.
Mitch was already down the
hall, getting his new 'brother' and 'nephew' settled in. Walt thought
about Mitch. Through it all, he'd been the calm voice, the solid
rock, the one who had talked quietly and at length with Rusty while
he and Coach had alternately railed at and cared for Moose as he came
awake and was baffled by his new shape. Mitch had made it easier for
Rusty to accept what had happened and what was going to happen. Mitch
was something else and Walt was glad he was his cub… his mate.
Walt went to the kitchen, set
the gifts on the counter and began preparation for lunch. Mitch would
be in to help and maybe so would Rusty and Moose; though now that
Moose had settled down some, he expected the pair would spend the
next hour or so in bed,... Moose had some making up to do. Walt
sighed and looked around, "There's a lot of cooking to do,"
Walt thought, "the family just got a lot bigger."
Later that night, Mitch was
alone in his 'den', taking a breather from all the turmoil of the
last twenty-four hours. He was looking through the things of his
parents that he had brought with him just over four months earlier.
It seemed like a lifetime ago. He wondered how his parents would have
taken his change, if he would have tried to conceal it or if he would
have just quietly stolen away, never to see them again. His silent
musings were broken as Walt entered the room and sat next to him;
Mitch leaned into the man and bear he loved.
Walt had been standing,
unnoticed, at the doorway for almost five minutes, two packages in
his hands. He had been about to come in with the presents when he saw
Mitch holding a framed photograph in his hands and gazing out the
window. He could see that the picture was a family portrait. He
remembered his own family and the ache his necessary disappearance
had caused in his own life. The news a few years ago of his mother's
death followed closely by his father's had severed the last thin
bonds with his former life, but it hadn't closed the empty place it
left. They had died not knowing what had happened to their boy. At
least Mitch's parents had been spared that.
"Whatcha doin'?"
said Walt, putting a heavy arm around Mitch.
"Oh, not much... just
thinking, wondering."
Walt touched the picture in
Mitch's hands. "Your parents, right?"
Mitch nodded. "And me,
when I was nine; a neighbor took this and I've always liked it. My
mom never liked having her picture taken. This one, she's smiling in
and looks relaxed." Mitch put it back in the box and reached for
another one. "All of us at my graduation. They were so proud. I
was the first to go to college in either family. They sent
announcements to every relative I had. I was really glad my dad lived
to see that. He was sick even then. He died the next year when I was
in graduate school."
"They must have been
really proud of you, proud of your achievement and proud of the
person you became." Walt gave Mitch a squeeze. "You should
keep those out somewhere."
"You know, I think I
will. Hey, what ya got there, Papa?" Mitch pointed to the
packages as if he didn't know.
"Well, SantaBear brought
us presents. Here, this one's for you." Walt handed the package
to Mitch. Mitch read the tag, 'From Coach to the newest Werebear'. He
tore the paper off the box, opened it, and held up a pale, floppy
paperbound manuscript. He turned it over and looked carefully at the
cover, his eyes widening.
"What is it?" Walt
asked.
"I
can't believe this." He held the manuscript out to Walt. "It's
a proof copy of Crick and Watson's original paper, detailing their
discovery of DNA. Look, it's got annotations in their handwriting!
It's really
rare,
Walt... it adds another name for equal credit to the credit byline
for Rosalind Franklin. Do you know how rare this is? It shows Watson
and Crick wanted to give Franklin credit. The publisher deleted her
name. They even signed it, for the love of God. This is like the
Rosetta Stone of genetics!" He reverently turned the pages, then
caught himself. "What did Coach give you, Walt?" he asked.
Walt took his package and
rattled it, like any small boy at Christmas. "Don't break it,
silly... open it!" Mitch teased.
Walt broke the string and tore
the paper off the small box and opened it. Inside were a set of keys
and a small note. It was Walt's turn to be impressed. He jingled the
keys at Mitch. "Know what these are?"
Mitch shook his head...
"Keys?"
Walt reached over and cuffed
his cub. "Not just any keys... keys to a Harley. A 1952,
side-valve K, vintage Harley. The note says I'll have lots of time to
recondition it. AND, if I look carefully in the garage, I'll find a
box of engine parts for the rebuild." Walt's eyes shone and
Mitch could tell that Walt was already choosing what colors he's use
on the gas tank.
They sat quietly for a bit,
looking at their presents and each other. Walt had gone especially
quiet. Mitch understood that his papa was working something out in
his mind and stayed quiet, waiting.
"Mitch, I never asked
this before, but all this today... and standing there, seeing you
looking through your stuff..." The big man paused and looked
away, then back at his lover. "Are you sorry? Sorry about...
about this?" He gestured, partly to himself and partly to the
lodge around them.
Mitch reached out to Walt and
hugged him tight, hanging on for dear life, never wanting to let go
and desperately trying to communicate his love. "NO!! Not EVER!!
Not for a second. Oh, love..." Mitch gulped. "This is what
I've longed for my whole life: connection, belonging, love. Even with
my parents, there was always a… a distance, I guess. You and me...
we belong… we belong to each other, we belong here. We love each
other. I love you, Walt. Never doubt that, never."
Walt couldn't speak. Both
bears clung to each other, hugging, for a very long time. Finally,
they rose and walked down the hall and back to the living room, where
they could hear a serious conversation was taking place. "You'll
need new identities, and that will take time. Your finances will need
tending to, and then there's..." Vic continued with a speech
he'd probably made many times before and not just for his progeny.
Walt and Mitch looked at each other and smiled.
THE END
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