Made Marian, Volume One by Lucy Lennox
Teddy
I had taken photos of many animals in my career but never a grizzly bear. I had seen one once, but by the time I had the shot, the grizzly was gone.
There were streams of light filtering down through the trees around the bear. Blades of tall grass were mashed down where she was lying and they shined in different shades of greens and tans. Dark trunks of evergreens split columns of shadows behind the sow and one branch of green needles had fallen on the ground beside her.
The bear rolled onto her back at one point and I thought I might burst. The fur of her belly poked up and a giant paw came down to scratch at it. I was so excited to capture this bear, and if I had been alone, my memory cards would be full of her. Jamie was waiting for me though, so I didn’t spend all afternoon there.
I returned to the truck with a huge grin on my face. “That was amazing. Thank you, Jamie. You have eagle eyes.”
He laughed. “It’s easy to spot them when you’re used to seeing them around. I sort of know where to look. I’m glad you got to see her.”
My heart began to slow down from the high I felt framing the perfect shot. I couldn’t help but laser-focus out the window, looking for other treasures as we drove along.
A light snow flurry brushed flakes across the windshield. I asked Jamie if it was supposed to snow. He said he thought it was just a few flakes, and that he didn’t know of any snow in the forecast.
He told me about the snowshoe hare who lived behind his cabin. He had spotted him hopping under some brush a couple of months ago and spent some time sitting with him to see if he’d come out for Jamie to see. He got braver and braver until he began staying out in the open when Jamie was around and hopped across his legs if Jamie was sitting on the grass.
Jamie laughed. “He’s actually a good conversationalist. Chatters all the time about nonsense. I told him I can’t wait to see how swanky he looks in his fancy white winter coat.”
What I wouldn’t give to see him chatting with the little rabbit. “Can we see him later? Maybe I can get a shot of him with you.”
“Teddy, how long are you here for? I mean, how long do you intend for this whole ‘shadowing’ thing to go on?” He sighed.
Jamie pulled off to a gravel parking area and turned off the ignition before twisting in his seat to look at me.
I wasn’t sure what to tell him. “I don’t know. Maybe after I get some shots of you with four or five different animals. I’m not sure how long that would take. But by then I could go home and play with the images for a while to see if I got what I needed.”
He set his shoulders back. “Okay, then let’s make that happen. Four or five animals. You got the Dall. We’ll look for moose or caribou here. Then we’ll go into town to get some dinner. I’ll let you stay in the loft again because there’s no point in looking for a vacancy during the road lottery. Plus, hopefully, you can meet Harry. Then we’ll be halfway to your goal. God willing, I’ll get you off tomorrow or the next day.”
A laugh burst out of me before I replied, “Baby Dall, I would love for you to get me off. But who the hell is Harry?”
He bit back to me, “The snowshoe hare, jackass.” Then he opened the truck, grabbed his warm gear, and slammed the door behind him.
I grabbed my camera bag and followed him across a meadow toward a wide shallow river. He got to the edge of the riverbank and looked down to the right and left. Choosing left, he turned and started walking along the river’s edge. Even though we were lower in altitude, the temperature had plummeted and my hands were cold. I followed him.
After a few minutes of walking, we picked our way through a clump of brambles. He stopped me before we broke through to the other side and gestured for me to stay quiet for a minute. I looked around him but didn’t see anything. We waited. I felt my hands get colder. I had the crazy mental image of snaking my cold fingers up his shirt to warm them on his back, and I almost laughed at the thought of the scream that would come out of him if I did.
Suddenly, a large bird flew into the brush right in front of Jamie and knocked him hard in the shoulder. He stumbled back into me, and my arms went around him to keep him from falling. We stood like that for a beat before he righted himself and brushed off his coat.
He stepped slowly out of the brambles and turned around to me, lifting his finger to his lips. I followed as quietly as I could. At some point I was going to have to tell him I didn’t need him to warn me about being quiet while trying to photograph wildlife. It was turning from cutely condescending to annoying as hell.
I lifted an eyebrow at him and pointed to his shoulder. He waved a hand at me like it was fine. I wasn’t so sure. That bird was big, and it had hit him at top speed.
He walked slowly along the riverbank to another small group of trees. Through the branches I saw them. A cow moose and her calf stood in the water off to our right.
Jamie really was an animal whisperer. We had already seen more large rare mammals in one day than most tourists do in a week of trying hard. I pulled up my camera and began to sight through the lens. After a few shots, I tapped his shoulder and gestured forward with a questioning look.
He tentatively pushed through the last branch hiding us, and the cow moose’s head came up to stare at us. I knew that a mama and her baby together made mama dangerous. That was true across most of the animal kingdom.
Even though I had seen moose before, I was always struck by how tall they were. Jamie moved forward and stepped a boot into the shallow water by the edge. He stopped and waited. The calf moved forward, down the river away from us. It was all long legs and twitchy ears. The cow kept her eyes on us for a few minutes while we stood there. She took a drink of water and started following the calf down the river.
Jamie took a few more steps across the rocky riverbed and stopped again, watching them walk away. He crouched down into a squat and stayed still again. I heard him make a faint clicking sound with his tongue and saw the cow and calf turn back to look for it.
The calf turned all the way around and took a few steps back toward Jamie. The cow looked unsure. I slowly dropped down to a prone position and framed the shot, with Jamie crouching down on the right with a hand extended, the back end of the cow in the center, her giant nose looking over her left shoulder toward Jamie, and the baby taking an eager step toward Jamie on the left of the frame. I couldn’t wait to see if one of them turned out.
The calf got about five feet away from Jamie’s outstretched hand before the cow decided enough was enough and made a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a honk. The calf quickly turned and blundered back to its mom.
When Jamie put his hands on his knees to push himself back to a standing position, I heard a sharp intake of breath and saw his left arm give a little. I knew that damned bird strike was bad. He pretended it hadn’t happened as he made his way back to where I was standing on the shore.
“You look a little pale,” I said. “Let’s go find you some ice and ibuprofen, okay?”
He rolled his eyes at me and started walking to the truck. By the time we reached it, his shoulder must have been killing him because he handed me the keys and asked if I could drive.
He pointed me in the direction of his cabin and I began to drive. A few minutes later I looked over and noticed he’d fallen asleep. I fumbled with my phone to select the GPS directions from the day before and followed them back to his driveway.
I got out and walked around to the passenger side. Unfastening his seatbelt, I reached to help him out of the truck and up to the front steps when he woke up and slapped my arms away.
“Get off me, you oaf. I can walk for god’s sake.”
“You were asleep. I was just trying to help you, Jamie,” I explained.
“I don’t need your damned help. Move.” He stumbled down from the truck and reached back in with his injured arm to get his backpack from the backseat. As soon as the stretch of his arm reached his shoulder, his knees buckled and he almost slumped to a heap on the ground. I grabbed him around the stomach and held him up.
“Fuck,” he said with a shaky voice. “That hurts like a bitch. You don’t think it could be dislocated, do you?”
“Let’s get you inside and take a look. It’s snowing in case you haven’t noticed. We’re going to be wet when we get inside.” I kept an arm around his waist helping him inside and sat his on the sofa. I helped his take off his boots and handed him the quilt from his chair.
I let Sister out for a bathroom break and started the coffee maker. Jamie pointed me toward painkillers and ice packs. He got up to use the bathroom and when he came back out, he was struggling to get his fleece top off. I stepped over to help him remove it without having to lift up that arm. I put it on the back of the sofa and turned back around to see him trying to get his T-shirt off.
“Can you help me take off this shirt too?” he asked.
“Sweetheart, I’ve never said no to that question in my life.” I reached under the hem and carefully helped him out of it.
When we got it off, he was left in just his pants and colorful nylon webbing belt. His body was sleek and muscled despite his smaller frame. Rounded shoulders and biceps, defined pecs and abs. A tantalizing happy trail leading down into his pants. My mouth watered.
A giant bruise bloomed angrily over the front of his left shoulder. I reached out to gently run my hands from his arms to his shoulders and around the front of his collarbone. He tensed at my touch. Nothing felt broken to me but I wasn’t a doctor. I asked if he could slowly move that arm up and around. He did. It went through the motion without any odd jerks even though it was clearly painful.
“I’m not a doctor, but my guess is just a really bad bruise. Let’s ice it and use anti-inflammatories to see if it’s any better tomorrow.”
When I pressed the ice pack to his shoulder, he lay back down and pulled the quilt up to his chest.
“Damned pochard,” he mumbled.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“The bird. I think it was a pochard. It’s like a red-headed duck. What an asshole. I saw him on the surface of the water and then he took off towards us. I tried to duck. I tried to duck the duck. Fuck. He probably thought he was flying into a safe hiding spot. I wonder if he got hurt. We should have looked for him.”
I told him to lie down and try to relax. When the coffee was ready I fixed him a cup and brought it over to him. He took a couple of sips before lying back into the blankets and closing his eyes.
When he was asleep, I had an idea. I took some photographs of him lying there, making sure I got his injured shoulder in the shot. The ugly bruise, the ice pack, and his pain-pinched face.
