The temperature was cool as I sat on the porch swing. I felt a sweet contentment this Tuesday morning as the birds filled the trees with their twittering sounds. There were no shadows yet, as the sun had not come up over the mountain, but it was getting light, and I knew it wouldn’t be long. The smells from inside the cabin filtered out as the door opened. Karla eased out on the porch with two cups of hot chocolate. She handed them to me and then said, “I’ll be right back.” She winked as she scurried back inside.      I noticed Karla was wearing only her robe. The chill in the air seemed to accentuate her form, as the thin robe clung to her curves. She returned with a quilt, and I could see the goose bumps on her arms. I was eager to warm her as she sat next to me. She snuggled close as I raised my arm, inviting her near. She settled and then leaned against me with the quilt now spread over her and across me as well. I handed her a cup, then gently set the swing in motion. The smell from the lightly steaming cups filled my nose, a smile curved my lips, and I felt at peace with the world.      Our bodies warmed each other’s under the quilt, and we watched for the first light of the morning to strike the treetops across the way. “Oh, look!” Karla exclaimed, pointing toward the small stream just twenty yards away.      A doe and her fawn were coming out from their hiding place to drink from the fresh water creek, which gurgled down toward the lake. They were cautious, as they watched all around, but didn’t seem to mind our presence.      I could feel her excitement, as Karla shivered just a little and then sipped quietly from her steaming cup. Moments later, the two deer bolted up the bank of the stream, away from the direction they had come. It was quiet—quiet except for the birds, which were beginning their daily activities.      The sun was now just tipping the tops of the trees on the far side of the creek, and it seemed as though the sunlight would slip down the branches, slowly making its way toward the ground.      We sat sipping our chocolate, still quietly breathing in the morning air and loving this special time together. Karla’s body was now warm against mine, and I could smell remnants of her perfume, or is it her auburn hair that smells so good, I wondered. I nestled my face into her hair and took a long slow breath. She fills me so, I thought as we sat together, and my thoughts drifted back to our lovemaking the night before. A smile crossed my lips again as I recalled the gifts of pleasure we shared. Just then, she giggled a little, and her head lay over on my chest. I began to think we were recalling the same memory. My arm, which was around her, pulled her to me a little more firmly as we gently continued to swing.      One moment passed after another as we watched the golden sunlight slowly bring its glow to the lower and still lower branches of the trees. Time seemed motionless here in this place. Our communing was without words as we felt each other’s presence and experienced the warmth of our joining souls.      I glanced out toward the lake to the left and saw the rowboat slowly bobbing to the calm rhythm of the lake. It was still tied securely to the old wooden dock that jutted out into the water, and I begin to think about the possibilities this day might bring. My attention came back to Karla as I sipped at the last of the chocolate. Then I placed the empty cup on the small table beside the swing. I took hers as well, placing it beside mine.      Hobo, my black lab, collie mix, quickly got up from his place beside the swing and growled in a low deep tone. I stopped the swing and listened as Hobo’s attention was clearly on something he didn’t like. He stood rigidly, staring into the woods on the far side of the small creek. The hair on his back was standing up, and his short stubby tail was motionless.      “What is it, boy?” I asked in a whisper. He paid no attention to me, just continued glaring into the woods. His growls stopped, but the hair on his back remained at attention. Several silent minutes passed as we watched for whatever had spooked the dog, but there was nothing we could detect. I could tell Karla had tensed up, but I didn’t blame her, considering the wilderness area we were in. Still more time passed, and Hobo finally sat, still watching, but now the hair was lying down, blending in with the rest of his black shiny coat.      Karla looked up at me, then said, “You ready for some breakfast yet?”      I looked into her smiling face and answered, “As a matter of fact, that does sound good.” I smiled and moved some as Karla straightened up, then stood. I started folding the quilt as she headed toward the door, and I followed close behind.      I turned, as I came to the door, and looked back in the direction that still held Hobo’s attention. “Good boy, Hobo,” I said as I continued into the cabin. The fire in the fireplace had died down, only leaving coals, and there was still a chill in the air. I laid the quilt on the end of the couch and then remembered the cups I had left on the table outside. As I went back outside, Hobo was still watching in the same direction, but he seemed a little more relaxed. I patted him on the head, and he whimpered a little as I continued toward the small table. With the retrieved cups in hand, I headed back inside; Hobo followed me in, and I closed the door. Whatever had spooked him was evidently gone, and he went to his empty food bowl in the corner of the room.      “You want sausage and eggs, or would you rather have pancakes?” Karla asked. I set the cups in the sink, and as I ran some water in them, I answered, “How about some of those pancakes of yours with eggs on the side. I’ll do the eggs, okay?”      Karla said, “That does sound good, but you go build up the fire. I’ll do the eggs too, so you just keep your mind in the fire over there, okay? It’s still a little chilly in here this morning.” I had already followed her into the kitchen area by that time, and I said, “I’ll warm you up!” I slowly ran my hand across her shapely form. She playfully swatted at my hand and then snapped, “Get over there,” pointing toward the fireplace.      “Okay, babe,” I said. She was in front of the stove, to my right, and as I looked out the kitchen window over the sink, I said, “Sure is a pretty morning, isn’t it? The lake is as smooth as glass.” Then I turned to Karla, who was trying to ignore me, and I hugged her from behind. She leaned into me for a moment and then said, “Okay, get in there and fix that fire.” She pushed my hands down to break my hug as she giggled. “Do you want breakfast or not?” she asked.      “Okay, okay,” I snickered and then turned back toward the living room. As I moved toward the fireplace, I had to dodge Hobo, who was standing just a few feet away, holding his food bowl in his mouth. “Looks like someone else is hungry,” I said as I headed toward the fireplace.      Karla softly laughed, and then she took the bowl from the dog. “You silly mutt,” she exclaimed, while scratching him behind his ear. Then she went to the cupboard and took a can of dog food out for him, opened it, then dug the contents out, filling his bowl. Then she put the bowl on the floor, against the wall, and said, “There ya go, Hobo! I guess you earned it this morning.” She scratched his back as he started his breakfast.      The wood box was almost empty, and I headed outside where a large pile of cut and split wood was already stacked. I made four trips, back and forth from the woodpile to the wood box by the fireplace. I was satisfied that the extra wood would be enough to last for maybe two days. With the last load, I closed the door and neatly placed the pieces I had on the hearth.      With the hatchet I kept by the wood box, I split several pieces more into some kindling size, and then I stirred the coals around with the poker. Within a few more minutes, there was a small blaze going, and I knew it wouldn’t be long till it was burning well, radiating its heat into the room. After carefully arranging several more pieces of wood, I retreated to the couch, pleased with my accomplishment. I could smell and hear Karla’s handiwork in the kitchen, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until breakfast was ready.      I sat, watching the small flickering fire, and I began remembering. For some reason, I remembered our wedding day—the day Karla became Mrs. Bob Savage. She made me the happiest man in the world that day and had only added to it since then. That was only three years ago, but we’d been so happy together that in some ways it seemed to be just a few months. In other ways it seemed like I had known her forever. We’d just connect so well, thinking and feeling the same things, time after time. It’s like we had always known each other.      I remembered the first time I met her. It was a Thursday night, and I was cramming for a chemistry test the next day. I was worried about that test because I knew it was important, and I really wanted to learn the material, not just get a good score. I was studying to be a veterinarian, and I was about to reach my goal. At twenty-five years of age, I was about to realize a dream I’d had since I was about ten. This chemistry, however, was giving me fits, and this particular night, the library was where my answers were. Then Karla came in with an armload of books, and she almost made it to the check-in desk. As she scrambled to pick up the scattered books she had dropped, I noticed right away how cute she was, and I also couldn’t help but stare. I guess I had a cheesy smile on my face because when she looked in my direction and our eyes met, a frown came across her face, and she said in a loud whisper, “What are you looking at?” Without speaking, I quickly got up from the table, where my things were spread out, and was kneeling at her side after a few quick steps.      Karla was red-faced with embarrassment. I helped with the books that were spread out, but she never looked up, nor did she say a word, until we had all the books on the desk. Then she turned with a thin, half smile and whispered, “Thanks, that was nice of you.”      Our eyes met again, and her beautiful blue eyes captured my heart right then, and my mouth was instantly disconnected from my brain. I just stood there, lost for those two seconds, and my whole world changed. It took eight more months of calling, being turned down, more calling, dating, and finally getting on my knees again like I had that first day we met.      Then she said she would be my wife. That was probably the second happiest day of my life. Here we were, three years later, enjoying our third anniversary.      As I sat on the couch, I remembered my older brother Sam, talking me into using his cabin this week. He was really proud of this cabin and was always letting his friends and family use it. Sam had always been supportive of our marriage, and I wondered many times why he had never gotten married himself. I had always thought he was better looking than I was, and with his financial interest in trucking and logging, he had more money than he knew what to do with. I knew this cabin had cost him much, and he never cut corners on any of the expenses, including putting gravel on the dirt road all the way from the main road. Funny thing was though, as pleased as he was with this place, he rarely spent any time here himself.      As I watched the flicking of the growing fire, I thought how special it was to be here at this time. It was our third anniversary and drawing close enough to the second anniversary of my veterinary practice to celebrate that at the same time. As I thought about it, life was really good and going our way, even though Karla hadn’t become pregnant yet.      “It’s ready, babe,” Karla said.      I got up, headed for the table, and could smell the little bit of cinnamon she had put in the pancakes. Karla was just bringing two glasses of juice to the table, and I pulled out her chair for her and then took my own seat.      The two eggs on my plate were perfectly basted as usual, and the whites of the eggs were actually white. I never could figure out how she did that because the ones I cook always turn out darker and almost dirty looking. I smiled as I caught another whiff of the pancakes, which were stacked on their own plate in the center of the table, with a little curl of steam circling upward.      “Looks good as usual,” I said as I placed two of the pancakes on my plate. She smiled while she reached for her own. As I smeared butter over them, I asked, “Well, what would you like to do today?”      Karla was thoughtfully busy with her plate and then answered, “I’d like to go out on the lake today. Maybe we could pack a picnic lunch and go out to that little island and explore a little.” She had that silly little grin on her face as she continued poking at her breakfast. Then she looked up at me and snickered a little. I thought I knew what she was thinking and met her little laugh with my own silly smile and wink.      “I like that idea,” I said. I reached under the table with my foot, trying to find one of her legs.      It was quiet for several minutes as we ate. It was such a pleasure to look at her, the way she sat, the way she cocked her head just a little as she took a bite. There was a humble, unassuming elegance about her, and even as she sat with only her robe on, I was convinced Karla was the most beautiful woman in the world. I noticed she was wearing the matching gold bracelet and pendant I had given her the day before, and it looked as good on her as I had hoped it would. Then our eyes met, and she said, “You better eat before it gets cold.” She smiled her shy little smile as I turned my attention back to my plate.      The cabin was warming nicely as the fireplace was doing its job, and as I glanced at the clock over the kitchen sink, I saw it was 8:30. We talked for a few minutes after we had finished eating and just enjoyed being together. Then we cleared the table together, depositing the dishes in the sink, and I went back toward the fireplace for a little poking and prodding.      I passed Hobo, who had finished his breakfast and was resting quietly by the front door. He seemed as excited to be here at the cabin as we were. There were new sights and sounds and new smells to stir his activities, and he loved being outside. He didn’t stray too far on his own though. He was used to the backyard at our place in the city, and perhaps his age was beginning to slow him down some as well, I thought.      As I probed at the fire, I remembered the first time I saw him. One of the neighborhood kids had seen him lying in the street. It was a Saturday morning, and they knew I was learning to be a vet, and that’s why they knocked on my door. When they took me to him, he was a bloody mess and had obviously been hit by a car. He was nearly dead, but I had to try to save him. As it turned out, none of the kids had ever seen him before, and so after paying out over two hundred dollars in vet bills for the X rays, medications and splints, I figured I might as well keep him. It wasn’t long till his two broken legs had healed, and we were playing fetch in the backyard with an old tennis ball he had taken a liking to. That was about four years ago, and Hobo had become my family.      Karla finished rinsing the dishes and went into the bedroom to change clothes. I thought this would be a good time to check out the boat and make sure it wasn’t leaking before we started on our little outing.      “I’ll be out checking the boat, honey,” I shouted as I opened the front door. Hobo came with me as I walked the thirty yards, down the gently sloping bank to the old wooden dock. Out of the long wood box, I extracted the two life vests and the oars, then put them on the dock so we would have them before getting in the boat. Then I got in the twelve-foot aluminum rowboat, making sure it was dry and ready to go. I found it in perfect condition and started back up toward the cabin for some of the things I knew we would want to take with us. As I approached the cabin, Hobo stopped, facing across the creek where he had been earlier. He was sniffing the air, and I could see the hair on his back rise up again. He growled but didn’t bark. He just stood there peering into the woods. I stopped as I neared the front door and then turned to see if I could see what was again disturbing him, but again there was nothing.      I thought about the shotgun that hung over the fireplace, then turned and went inside. Karla had gotten dressed and was putting some things in the picnic basket for our lunch, and as I went to the fireplace, she asked, “How’s the boat? Everything okay?”      Reaching for the shotgun, I answered, “Yup, and I even got the ores and life jackets out and ready to go.” I took the gun from the wall mountings and opened the chamber. As I suspected, it was not loaded. It was a twelve-gauge pump, and I had fired it a few times in the past while squirrel hunting a few years back. I went to the kitchen cabinet and took the box of shotgun shells from the shelf. There looked to be about a dozen rounds in the box and were of a lighter load, best suited for squirrel or bird hunting. I was wishing it was a magnum load “00” buckshot, but this would probably do—to at least scare off whatever was out there.      “What are you doing?” Karla asked.      “Oh, just checking out this old gun. Something spooked Hobo again, so I thought I would get this thing ready just in case there was some sort of varmint out there.” I was covering my concern as best I could because I knew Karla would get upset if she thought I was worried. I continued to load the gun, and then I pumped it, loading a round in the chamber, and then repeated the action, making sure it was working properly. Then I reloaded the ejected shell back in the magazine, leaving a live round in the chamber. I could tell Karla was a little uneasy around the gun, so I went out on the porch and sat on the single step. Hobo was still in place but was no longer growling, just watching. After several minutes, I got up and walked toward the creek, the gun draped over my forearm, and Hobo was right beside me. I stopped at the creek and squatted down, watching, listening for anything out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. Another few minutes passed, and then Karla came out on the porch.      “I’m all packed, honey,” she shouted. She was watching us but stayed on the porch, while we turned and walked back toward the cabin. Hobo seemed relaxed again, and I was satisfied that whatever had spooked him was gone by now.      “Good,” I said with a big smile. Karla looked so cute there on the porch with those knee-length shorts on and her white tee shirt. She had a light jacket in one hand and the folded quilt draped over the other arm.      When I walked up on the porch, I stole a quick kiss as I passed her, and she giggled a little as she headed down to the dock. I went inside the cabin and leaned the shotgun against the wall, beside the fireplace, then stirred the wood and coals again, making sure it would be safe to leave for the rest of the day. I could see there would be a good bed of coal that would last until we got back, and that would make it easy to warm the cabin later on. I went back into the kitchen and took the box of shells for the shotgun into the living room. I placed them on the fireplace mantle where they would be close to the gun. Then I went back into the kitchen, took the one-gallon water jug from under the sink and started filling it for our outing. The picnic basket was on the kitchen counter, and as I explored the contents, it looked as though Karla had remembered everything we would need. Then I grabbed the basket and the water jug and headed down to the boat.      “Did you get everything?” Karla asked as she passed me on her way back up to the cabin.      “I think so,” I said.      “I’ll go ahead and close up the cabin then,” Karla said, as I neared the boat. Then I remembered the camera and thought it would be a great time to take some pictures. It was a beautiful day, and it was still early enough to take some good shots on the island. I quickly stowed the things in the boat, then jogged back up toward the cabin. Karla was just closing the door as I hopped up on the porch, and I said, “Let’s take the camera, babe.” Karla smiled and said, “Good idea,” as she reopened the front door.      I noticed she had put on my red plaid shirt, which I had worn fishing the day before. She wore it like a loose-fitting jacket, and I said, “I guess it’s still a little chilly, isn’t it?” She smiled and nodded but continued on her way without a word. I quickly glanced around the cabin as I headed for the bedroom where I had left the camera. There were two rolls of film on the chest of drawers, and I grabbed one along with the camera and then headed outside again. I closed the door behind me, and as I turned toward the dock, I could see that Karla already had her life jacket on and was getting into the boat. Trotting down the dock, I stopped and raised the camera and looking through the viewfinder. I could see her sweet face clearly, and the sun brought out the highlights of her auburn hair. The colorful life jacket against the red of the plaid shirt she had on made for a very sweet picture. I moved to the side slightly to get more of Hobo in the picture too and then clicked. Then I refocused, zooming in on her face more. What a great shot that would be, I thought, as I clicked the shutter. Then the camera started, automatically, rewinding. I moved closer to the boat and handed the camera and film to Karla. She placed them in the picnic basket for safekeeping.      Hobo was nervously standing on the dock, watching me as I neared the boat. He whimpered some as his stubby tail wagged. I put the ores in the boat, then look around, making sure we hadn’t forgotten anything. Then I got in and sat in the rowing seat while Karla had made herself comfortable on the seat in front of mine. Karla smiled and then said, “Let’s get going.” It was plain to see she was excited for the adventure of the day, and I had to admit, I was excited as well. I untied the rope from the dock anchor, and as I pushed the boat away, Hobo decided he was coming with us. He skidded as he landed between our seats, but caught his balance, then sat panting, with a panting smile in his face as he looked up at me. I patted him on top of his head, then said, “So you decided to come along, did ya?” Hobo whined a little, almost as though he understood me, then he turned to Karla who was laughing at his antics.      “Good boy!” she said as Karla also scratched his thick black coat. By now the boat had drifted a few feet from the dock, and I had room to start working the oars.      Within a few minutes, I had rowed the boat out of the small cove and had a good start around the western corner that would lead toward the small island. It was dead calm and quiet with only the oars in the water making any sound at all. What a beautiful day, I thought, as I found a good comfortable rhythm in rowing. Then without a word, Karla started fumbling through the picnic basket. She took things out, moved things around inside, then she turned to me and said, “Well, I have some good news, and some bad news. First the good news.” As she smiled her soft smile, I could see she was a little embarrassed and figured we had forgotten something.      “The good news is, we have the cups, the water, the utensils, the napkins, the potato chips, and we’re not very far from home.” I stopped rowing, letting the boat drift, and just looked at her, waiting for the bad news. Then she continued, “The bad news is I left the sandwiches there at the cabin, in the refrigerator.”      She looked down at Hobo and scratched him behind the ear, and I let a moment pass before I burst out laughing. “Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she said with a little pouting look on her face. I continued to chuckle as I turned the boat around and started back for home.      “You know, I was just wishing we had brought a fishing pole, but I didn’t want to go back just for that. At least you already have my license there in your pocket,” I said. Then she smiled, and I knew she didn’t feel as bad about forgetting the lunch. She began to giggle. Another ten minutes and we were easing up beside the dock. Karla said, “I’ll go get the sandwiches and you get the fishing stuff, okay?”      “You got it, babe,” I said as I steadied the boat alongside the dock. Then as she headed for the cabin, I tied the mooring rope to the anchor, then got out of the boat and headed for the box where the oars and life vest had been. I took the pole and the tackle box and set them down by the boat, then headed for the back of the cabin where I had placed several containers of worms that I would use for bait.      Then I heard Karla scream. I ran toward the front of the cabin. She was running away from the porch toward the small creek, and then I saw it. A large black bear charged out of the cabin after Karla, quickly overtaking her just before she got to the creek, and with one swipe of its large paw, it knocked her to the ground and was mauling her in an instant. I ran out, yelling at the bear, while at that same time, Hobo was out of the boat and, in a flash, was biting the bear’s hind leg in a snarling attack. The bear turned, swiping at the dog, but missed as Hobo quickly retreated, then Hobo lunged into another attack at the bear’s leg. I was still yelling, running at the bear as I waved my arms both in anger as well as terror, but the bear paid little attention to me. It lunged at Hobo, biting and pawing at him, and again Hobo jumped back just in time. I could see the bear’s attention was no longer on Karla, and I turned back for the gun in the cabin. Just as I reached the porch, I heard Hobo yelp in pain. I was afraid to look and just kept running for the shotgun inside. The front door was broken halfway off its hinges and hung mostly open. I lunged through the opening, and my eyes locked on the gun next to the fireplace. In two steps, I had the gun in my hand and then turned back for the door. I could hear the roaring of the bear and could still hear Hobo’s snarling barks. I grabbed for the box of shells, knocking it to the floor, then picked up two of the shells that had fallen out of the open box. I raced back through the broken door and saw that Hobo had enticed the bear away from Karla and toward the cabin. I also saw that Hobo was bleeding from his left rear leg and was favoring it as he tried maneuvering out of range of the bear’s lunging attacks. The bear stood on its hind legs, pawing at the air as it roared, then lurched forward again at the dog. As it did, I reached the end of the porch and, with a single motion, pointed the gun in the air and fired the first round. The loud explosive sound echoed, and the bear stopped its attack just short of reaching Hobo. The dog had fallen, but with the gift of a few seconds, he managed to escape out of the bear’s reach again. Then the bear stood up on its hind legs, turning its attention toward me as it roared. Fear shot through me, more intense than I’d ever felt before. Hobo attacked again, but this time he got too close. The bear quickly turned and, in one motion, knocked the yelping dog back, and he landed squarely on top of Karla. I managed to put the gun to my shoulder as I pumped another round into the chamber. I quickly pulled the muzzle down and fired right at the midsection of the beast. It only flinched a little, and I saw a little dust fly up just to the side of the bear. I knew I hadn’t hit it squarely and hoped the errant buckshot had also missed Karla and the dog. I pumped the gun again, but before aiming, I slipped the additional rounds into the magazine and then brought the barrel back up toward the black bear. It had dropped down with all four paws on the ground, and I felt a surge of success as I aimed at the bear again, this time at its head, as it started moving toward me. It was moving quickly as I fired again. I could see fur fly off the top of its head but the bear didn’t slow down. I pumped, quickly aiming, and fired again, this time hitting it in the left shoulder, but with no noticeable effect. Still the bear charged with even more speed. I took a step backward but tripped over the step on the porch, and I fell backward. I pumped the shotgun again, loading the last round into the chamber, and then fired again, this time point blank as the beast was nearly on top of me. As I fired, it lowered its head, and the buckshot from the blast ripped a section of furry skin off the top of its head. kept coming.      Just then, the bear’s right paw struck me on the side of the head, and as I fell, I heard Hobo’s growling attack. I could smell the stink of the bear’s breath over me, then all went black and numb as my head slammed against the wooden porch behind me. * Back to Stories * Click to Purchase "Another Life" © James O'Brien