galore. Her memory flickered back to the night she had spent in New Orleans a month ago. She had put off that whole unbelievable – but pretty interesting – event as an unusually intense dream, but now she recalled the night with polished, sparkling clarity. Was she losing her mind? ‘Cabin Fever’. The term came sailing back and run aground in her brain. Turning nuts from being confined too long. But did not that require more people, or could one get it by oneself?
Suzy snorted, stalked back to the stereo and whacked the power button. Seconds later a brooding tune made the house’s walls shudder. Much better. She swapped the wet towel for a black tracksuit with orange stripes and threw the wine-stained carpet into the washing machine. Having checked all locks, she poured herself a new glass of wine and went back to the deck chair with her bag. The moon had turned the forested landscape into a mass of silvery peaks, broken only by a few, dark meadows and clearings. A small stream wound its way through the forest, starting far up in the mountains and running in gentle curves towards the hill upon which the cabin rested. In the moonlight, it looked like a shining rope flung across the woods.
She upturned her bag in her lap and dug out her black nail polish from the mound of bric-a-brac. Not that she needed another layer, but she had to do something to take her mind of the unexpected visitors. She glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. They had better not miss another flight. She sighed and turned her attention to her left fingernail.
A movement in the forest made her look up. Something had stirred deep in the woods. Probably an owl, or perhaps another fox. She cursed her jittery nerves and scowled at her fingers, only to look up again when a shadow crossed the stream. She watched the shining brook for a few seconds. Once again a shadow flashed across the stream. A big shadow. Hundreds of metres away, yet clearly visible in the pale light.
Suzy paused. Were there bears in these woods? She screwed the cap back on the nail polish, unloaded her belongings onto the veranda’s wooden floor, stood up and walked over to the telescope. After a minute of zooming and scouting around, she spotted the shadow again, lost it, grimaced as she whirled the telescope around and found it again. She was not even surprised to see it was the tall man who had been on her lawn.
Suzy did not know how she could be sure; after all, all she saw was shadowy someone walking along the stream. But there was something to the man’s build that she remembered, and she could tell even from this distance that the night-time wander was really tall. After a moment’s fine-tuning of the zoom, she could discern his shirt, his jeans and his unruly hair. The only thing she did not recall was the hat he wore. She could not see for sure, but she thought it was one of those silly tourist caps with beer can holders and tubes to drink from, but there was something about its silhouette that made her think of a hart.
Suzy took her eyes from eyepiece and pinched the bridge of her nose. So her would-be saviour walked alone by the stream in a stupid hat. Not her problem. Probably a local loony. All towns had one. New York, she knew from experience, had plenty. Why not Newridge?
Meaning to look one more time for good measure and then go back to her nails, she peered through the eyepiece, adjusted the zoom, and gasped.
There was a beer, right behind the man. Her heart started hammering again as she gripped the telescope with white-knuckled hands. The huge beast lumbered along the water, not far behind the man who looked in the other direction. Had he not seen the bear? Turn around! Run! Or you’ll be eaten alive in that dumb hat!
Then another shadow appeared next to the stream, behind the bear, and then another. Suzy zoomed and felt her jaw go slack. Two more bears, both trotting in the same direction as the first animal. The three animals moved behind the man, all