Jed Wolf

Once upon a time in early June, a miserable man hiking alone in some remote woods happened upon the same small, cleared valley he’d often found in his dreams. At the base of the valley was a small swimming pond where picknickers and bathers enjoyed glorious Saturdays. The weather was always so perfect, even the man’s misery felt tolerable when across the small valley, the large grizzly bear he’s seen plenty of times lumbered out from the edge of the forest. 

Expecting the bear to return to the woods as it often did, the man wasn’t too concerned. It might sit staring at him from across the valley or even fall asleep, but this time the bear leapt up and thundered downhill toward the pond below. 

The man tried to yell, “bear!” but nobody could hear his silent attempt to yell. After diving into the pond, the bear emerged with someone’s arm in its jaws. Then horrified onlookers ran screaming in all directions as the man froze in his spot trying not to draw attention.

Crouching above the scene on the edge of the woods, the miserable man continued watching until unexpectedly, the bear looked up and set its sights directly on him. It dropped the arm from its mouth and began bounding out of the pond and up the hill straight toward him.

The man’s legs had fallen asleep from crouching for so long and he stumbled awkwardly back into his familiar forest to get away. As he hobbled steadily toward safety, the tingling in his legs slowly lessened. Stopping to catch his breath he heard an Oriole merrily singing above him in the branches proclaiming he was safe. 

When the miserable man entered the miserable town where he lived, he banged on several doors to let someone know what happened. He found an old woman willing to listen, but after hearing his story she said, “There’s no bears in these parts.” 

Just then the man saw the grizzly charging by on the next block. “See,” the man said. “Did you see that?” But the woman hadn’t. She shook her head and went inside, “Tourists,” she muttered. Just then the man heard the familiar huffing sound and glancing back at the next block, he saw the grizzly reappear, stop, and look straight at him. Then it re-launched its thousand ferocious pounds straight at him.

Hoping the bear might find others to chase besides him, possibly even the oblivious old woman, the man bolted behind her house and sprinted back into the woods. His legs were working well. He felt clever and strong and ran mile after mile until after running his entire life, the miserable man would up in another clearing where there was a small empty cottage. “What a great place to live, far from all the oblivious people,” he thought. “Maybe it’s for sale,” he wondered.  

Not sure if he was safe or not, he slid open a window, scrambled inside then shut it behind him. Realizing the bear or anyone could see him plain as day through the curtainless panes, the man climbed back out and snuck around the cottage. Noticing a small opening underneath, he squeezed himself through and began slithering into the house’s dank crawlspace. As he pulled himself along on his elbows through porcupine quills and over moldy boards, he heard crashing and glass breaking above. Moving as quietly as possible, the man reached the furthest, darkest corner of the crawlspace and stopped. He listened but there was no more panting or glass crunching above. Figuring the bear had gone the man felt lucky and pleased with himself for outsmarting it when ten seconds later he heard heavy breathing beside him in the dark. 

The smell of hot rotten grizzly breath was inches from his face. Thinking he’d discovered the bear’s den, paralyzed with fear, with no other choice the miserable man mustered his courage. “What do you want?” he asked trembling. With a petrifying snort, a sniffly grunt then a sigh, the bear moaned, “I’m your power. Why do you keep running from me?” 

Throughout his miserable life, bear dreams had reminded the miserable man of his miserable parents. Neither had shown genuine tenderness toward him when he was a child and left him to fend for himself. He recalled telling them when he was older of his troubles with and abuse by others, but rather than understanding or showing interest, concern or empathy, the miserable man’s parents resented him for insinuating they might have had anything to do with his bad luck. 

Most folks had at least one parent or relative who provided security, but not the miserable man. Though he tried and tried, there was no re-creating the window for unconditional love he’d missed as a miserable child. The lack of protection when he needed it most left him transparently insecure. He felt uncomfortable around others whose easy-going displays of affection depressed him. Joyful gatherings like picnics and weddings compounded his misery. His honesty sounded self-pitying to folks and due to their skepticism and advice; the miserable man tried to change. They told him he needed to forgive so though he forgave everyone including himself ‘till he was blue in the face, but the miserable man just got more miserable and bluer. 

He tried channeling his pain into art and healing himself writing mournful songs. He nearly killed himself making beautiful things until nearing the end of his life, the miserable man went partially blind. 

Facing his mortality, the miserable man welled up and sang his heart out then used his tears to write agonizing stories. Hundreds of written pages made him re-live the rawest moments of his life which made him more miserable than ever until one night, he had the other of his two lifelong recurring dreams.

Alone on a small rowboat with no oars or fresh water, the miserable man wept. Beneath his seat, coiled up ready to strike lay a poisonous snake. He usually woke from this dream in tears, but this time there were no more tears just exhaustion. Before losing consciousness, the miserable man asked, “What do you want?” 

Hearing nothing from the snake but no longer able to remain upright, the miserable man bid his companion farewell, tipped over forward then woke up, happy and grateful to be shopping at Walmart.