Summer Camp - 14. In The Land Of Salmon

The evening before the campfire, Paddy found himself sitting on a big stump with the little pine carving of his father in his hand, a piece of cotton rag and a little glass jar of sweet smelling linseed oil. He’d gathered enough dry wood to see them through a couple of weeks for fires, and now there was some free time until he needed to light the fire and get it going. He’d volunteered to skip out on hot chocolate and light the fire as it got dark, and for the first time in a long while, he wanted to be alone.

He could feel Troy, moving along the end of the line between them. He knew if he followed that cord he would end up in a strange and magical space where he and Troy had spent their afternoon. Time down the line was very different, and Paddy had opened his eyes what seemed like hours later to find only minutes had passed and that Gregg and Matthew were still being giggling and silly in the grass, teaching each other to whistle with the thick green blades. He could so easily have company, but he didn’t really want to.

He used the rag to polish the little bear sculpture in his hands, rubbing in the linseed oil until the wood glowed softly golden and thought of home. Three months ago, it would have been alien to him that there were shifters like himself having to survive and raised themselves without their fathers. Now, he missed his father more than he ever had before. He missed everything about being home; his mother’s garden of riotous colour, the scent of family in the trees, the lake full of salmon. But most of all, he missed the solid unshakeable presence of his father and the company of other bears.

Other bears… Paddy had always known he’d fine his mate. Unlike his mother, he’d had faith. His parents had always told him ‘the one’ might never come, or he might wait two decades before he found him. He’d dreamt of what his mate would be like, lain awake nights as a teenager and wondered about the man he would fall in love with. Every bear he’d even known had fallen in love with a human, but then, they were all straight. And while Paddy had assumed his mate would be a human, he’d always wished to fall in love with someone like himself, someone who could run and play in the forest and hunt salmon. Paddy didn’t even know if Troy-the-lynx could swim.

“It were always best in a spring aye Da?” Paddy smiled, stroking the little wooden bear in his fingers. “When uncle Hamish an’ uncle Angus come tae visit us. And wi all go fishin’ in tha lake all af’noon.” The big Scot sighed. They were the best days, when the lake was so full of salmon the surface was never still, forever moving with the thrashing of fish fighting for food. Grandda and Da, both his uncles, and all five of his cousins; Boyd, Aiden, Ewan, Fergus and Steafan. Ten bears playing in the lake, running in the shallows and snapping fish from the water. Steafan was the biggest, and he and Paddy would fight for fish, splashing in the shallows until one of their father’s roared that they were upsetting the fish. They would eat them raw straight out of the water, Paddy’s paler muzzle stained with water and fish-blood.

He and his father looked very different from the rest of their family. A black bears fur was not necessarily black, and his mother’s family all had fur which leant more towards the grey end of the spectrum. The comparison made Paddy and his father seemed very black and lustrous by comparison, their faces super pale blond. Paddy smiled to see the bears of his family in his head, the men they presented, the hours spent by camp fires bigger than this one, eating fish and telling jokes.

He pressed the little wooden bear against his chest and focused on breathing.

I miss you Da. He didn’t speak out loud, just thought the words in some direction he hoped was northwards. I miss you. I wish you could tell me what to do. I love Troy and I want to tell everyone I adore him. He sighed and scraped the dirt over a tree root with one booted heel. I miss the freedom of being back home.

There was no answer, and Paddy didn’t know what he’d expected to hear, if anything at all. He got up and dug in one of his combat shorts many pockets for matches. He shook the box, enjoying the sound it made, then lit a twist of paper, set fire to a little bundle of dry birch twigs and used those to make the big fire catch light. Soon, there were curls of smoke twisting out from the log structure and a bright orange glowing flame flickering within. Paddy sat back on his heels and stared up at the sky, bright with stars as thick as paint.

Oh Great Spirits, He sighed longingly, why do I feel so alone?

“Talking to the stars?”

Paddy turned, lost his balance and sprawled in the dry leaves and dust. He didn’t bother trying to get up. He adjusted his position to be comfortable on the flat ground and stared up at the figure of the Canadian standing over him.

“How can ye be so happy?” Paddy asked, still watching the stars glimmer overhead. “How can ye stand it?”

“Homesickness?” Noah interpreted correctly, “You miss being with your family?”

“Aye.” Paddy sighed deeply. “Daen’t ye?”

“Most days.” Noah kicked over a section of old log and sat down next to him. “But that’s the beauty of the internet. I can fire up the piece of shit I call my laptop and talk to my family and friends like I’m right there with them. I miss maple syrup and decent breakfasts though.”

Paddy craned his neck to look at his friend.

“An’ what do ye consider tae be a decent breakfast laddie?”

“Pancakes.” Noah sighed wistfully. “And bacon, and maple syrup. It’s so good.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, maybe not for you. No bacon?”

“Aye.” Paddy went back to looking up at the stars, he felt like they were judging him.

“Come on then.” Noah kicked the side of his hiking boot. “What are you two fighting about now? You’re all morose.”

“Wi nae fighting bud.” Paddy blinked a couple of times in the futile hope the sky might light up with the cold fire of the Great Spirits. “I’m just really ready fer thi’ lot tae go ye ken?”

“I thought you got on well with this Gregg kid?” Noah seemed confused.

“Aye. He’s a gid lad fer all tha’ he’s a bunny.” Paddy traced the shape of the little hare in the air above himself. “It’s the staff I cannae stand. All the whispering thay think I cannae hear.”

Ms Spinell for instance had been very quiet on the walk back to camp, and had been barely out of the range of ordinary human hearing when she had started discussing him with another member of staff. Paddy hadn’t been aware sitting in a big of field with some trees in full view of the path with a group of tired teenage boys had been anything more than a little rest before coming back to camp. He was quickly dissuaded of this fact.

“He’s always watching them. It’s creepy. Lord knows what he was thinking about in that field, getting them all sprawled out …”

Paddy had thought about dealing with her with claws and teeth, then with words, and had finally decided the limit of his temper would be ultimately breached during his explanation that it was his job to watch the kids in the group and keep them safe. He stalked off to the main field, and the kids had killed his black mood with a game of Frisbee and the giggle of girls trying to imitate his accent badly. Troy had been very late back from the scrambling course with his group and all they’d managed was a quick furtive wave. It was still the free time before the fire and Paddy could have left Noah watching the flames and gone to find Troy, but it was enough right now to be able to feel him moving on the end of the many stranded bond. Troy was happy, he could feel it, and that was a good thing after the way Paddy had treated him this morning.

“Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“How long te the kids start showing up fer fire?”

“What, twenty minutes?” Noah glanced at his watch. “What d’you need?”

“I need tae breathe.” Paddy was already sitting up, hauling his one remaining hoodie off over his head. “Keep a look out aye?”

Noah nodded, and Paddy stripped off shorts, boots and socks with the sort of speed only shifters were really capable of and let all the breath out of his body as quick as he could. It almost hurt, which was unusual since it had only been sixteen hours or since he’d shifted last. In less than sixty seconds he stared up at Noah from a prone position on his back, then rolled over and stood on all fours, shaking out his fur.

“Hruumf.”

He yawned hugely and turned to the fire. There was something infinitely fascinating about fire, both when wearing skin and as a bear; but somehow the power of the fire was intensified by an animal’s eyes. It was a throwback his grandda always said, to the time when animals all feared fire and it had been the shifters who had been the brave ones. Their ancestors had made friends with humans, learnt to be like them and eventually became part of the society which dominated the planet. Shifters the world over were the ones fighting to preserve the land and the environment and Paddy sincerely hoped they’d win.

Now he sat in his fur and watched the fire. Noah was looking at him with the natural curiosity of one who was meeting a new type of bear for the first time, and simply folded Paddy’s clothes into a neat pile at his feet while the big spectacled bear stared at the dancing flames.

With chocolate brown bear eyes, it was really was as though the flames were dancing: some strange ballet made of heat and light. Paddy followed the sparks with his muzzle, weaving his head and drawing his own patterns in the air, his hot breath fogging like mist in the sudden chill of the cloudless sky.

There were figures in the fire, and between big sleepy blinks where Paddy wondered if he could cry when he wore his fur, he saw the shape of the bears of his home. There on the banks of the lake, was his father, his mother standing next to him, hand in his fur. There were his grandparents smiling, the familiar hum of his grandda’s deep bass voice, asking him to come back and play with them, fish with them. Paddy desperately wanted to be home.

And then he blinked again, felt Troy’s hand wrap around his heart, and it was as though he was pulled by his chest out of his body, and there he was, bear shaped, in the strange, icy and familiar forest where they had spent their afternoon.

“Haarraunt?” Paddy asked of the young man who stood in front of him. Troy was still human, dressed in jeans and holding a grey woollen jumper in one hand. He was smiling.

“I was sort of wondering if I could do that too.” His voice was soft and full to the brim with love. “I just kind of reached out along the line to find you instead of tugging and we ended up here. It didn’t hurt right?”

“Wroaw.” Paddy shook his head and swivelled his ears forwards. It hadn’t hurt, it had just been strange. He wondered what would happen to either of their bodies if one of them pulled when the other was the middle of something, like being halfway up a tree. Time passed differently here, but it still passed.

“Where are you that you’re wearing fur babe?” Troy pushed his fingers into the thick velvet of Paddy’s ruff. “I kinda like it when we’re like this y’know?”

Paddy agreed by pushing his muzzle against Troy’s chest blowing on his skin. He liked Troy’s lynx shape, the thick, beautiful fur and expressive ears. But Troy’s human body was every bit of every fantasy he’d ever had. Strong and tightly muscled, the hard lines of his shoulder and hips contrasting so well with the soft roundness of each muscle, dusted with fine blond hairs. Paddy reached up and touched his nose to the big freckles which echoed the shape of Troy’s marking down the side of his ribs.

“Hmmm…” Troy’s fingers worked around the back of one ear and scratched at him gently. “You think we can stay here forever?”

From behind Paddy there was a sense of warmth and light, a scent he recognised, and then Troy said: “Noah?” half a second before the Canadian’s hand landed on the bear’s shoulder and sent him careening back into his body at the speed of sound.

“Huurnk!” Paddy kept himself together, remembering where he was and who he was with all in a rush. His claws dug into the earth but he didn’t lash out.

“Paddy quick!” Noah’s eyes were wide like saucers, “There are people coming.”

The bear stood as he shifted, glowing green for a moment, and turned as he pulled his shorts up his legs to find Gregg standing at the entrance to the fire site, between the trees with wide eyes. Paddy zipped his fly hastily and began pulling on socks, standing on one leg as he did so. Then Ms Spinel arrived behind Gregg just as the young shifter grinned.

“You’re always getting naked in the woods Paddy. It’s a bad habit.”

“Oh shit.” Noah clapped his hand over his face.

“Ah, fuck.” Paddy’s shoulder’s sagged. “Ye hae such timing lad.”

Gregg turned and blanched, and pelted into the woods at full speed.

“I’d best go git-” Paddy started, knowing it was no use. Belatedly he pulled on his shirt. “Camp fire time it is aye?”

Ms Spinel and another of the teachers wanted him banned from the camp fire activities. Nic looked for a moment as though he might have his hand forced until Mr. Ralph suggested sharing the clean copies of the all the site staffs police background checks. And while the evidence shut up those teachers who had already decided that something was wrong with Paddy, regardless of what the official forms or any other behaviour suggested, no one was particularly happy with the outcome. Paddy almost didn’t care, because while teachers argued over his ‘suitability to be around young, impressionable minds’, Gregg was still out the woods giving off a scent trail of fear and worry. Bizarrely, Troy was sent to find him.

Paddy sat by the wood stack as the fire burned and Nic and the others took the children through various rounds of songs and silly scraps of jokes. Most of them were the same as they had been for weeks, though Ava had trained a group of girls to re-word a popular and rather dramatic song to the lyrics of ‘there’s a camp fire burning in the woods, we could stay up late if we’re really good.’

Paddy felt it when Troy located the petrified little hare. He smelt them coming long before anyone else saw them and it was like a band had lifted from around his heart when Gregg stepped out of the woods into view. He smiled at Paddy and, ignoring his teachers, walked around the back of the fire to where the big Scot sat looking morose.

“I’m sorry Paddy.” Gregg had his thumbs stuck in his pockets. “It was a stupid joke. You’re not in trouble are you?”

“Nae laddie.” Paddy shook his head. “Ye go an’ enjoy tha fire now. Go on.”

It felt weird to send the boy away out of his presence as though he was any other kid, but weirder too for Gregg to turn back, holding out something in his hand. Paddy knew the smell instantly and took the little twig from the boy. It was from a pine tree. The needles grew in bunches, and the freshly snapped end was rich with the thick scent of sap. Paddy sniffed it greedily.

“Troy said it was your favourite. He said you miss home.”

“Aye Gregg. That I do.”

Paddy kept the twig in his hand, touching the fronds and the rough bark with his fingers as the kids all sang and chanted, chatted and laughed at their teachers performing an awful rendition of ‘Ring of Fire.’ Troy came and sat next to him quietly.

“You cuid fix this ye ken?” Paddy said softly. “I hae nae idea why a single gay man is always seen as a danger tae others. If thay ken about ye, it’d be easier.”

“Or it wouldn’t.” Troy sounded like he’d already worked through the whole conversation is his head and wasn’t happy about any of the possible outcomes. “This way at least both Noah and I can defend you.”

“Or I could go out with Levi.” Paddy said the words lightly, because the thought alone already made him sick to the stomach. “At least he isn’t ashamed to be seen with me.”

Troy growled, and Paddy felt the tightening of the noose around his heart just before Troy pulled with all his strength. It hurt like hell, like a white hot bar had been pushed through his skin, as though his heart was loose from its moorings in his chest. Troy looked like he was balanced to the edge of bursting into tears or going feral and shredding everything in sight. Paddy wanted to try and speak to him, apologise, but Troy got up and walked around the circle of the camp fire, a distance enough it made Paddy want to dash over there and have his mate in his arms again. He could see the same desire being held in check in Troy’s glacier cold eyes, and wondered why it was his mate was so against the idea of being publicly in love with him. What was it about being gay which scared Troy that much?

“Paddy! What are you going to sing for us?” Matthew was grinning, and Paddy realised everyone was watching him. The fire was burning low, and he was the only one who hadn’t performed something or other.

“Ach nae laddie. I daen’t much feel liek singing taenight.”

“Please Paddy!” This was chorused from half the kids around the fire, and Paddy saw Gregg’s glowing eyes picked out by the flames. The boy was as entranced by the fire as Paddy often was.

“Och… ye twisted me arm then. Hae any o’ you ever heard the story about how the man and the bear became bruthars?”

“No?” The children muttered around the circle. He had their rapt attention in ten seconds. Gregg was watching him with wide, intrigued eyes.

“Back in tha days before time was measured, when seas an’ rivers ran free an wild o’er tha land; man lived in tents made o’ skins and logs an’ made his paintin’s in caves of stone, using red earth fer paint. Life were hard, an’ thar were many dangers. Man had tae protect hi’ food, protect hi’ land from predators.” Paddy smiled and stretched out his legs in the dusty earth. This had been his grandda’s favourite story to tell him and his cousins on cold winter nights when they would have all rather been hibernating in their furs.

“Man used fire tae keep himself safe. But the fire he cuid nae control was the cold fire in tha sky, the dancing of the Great Spirits. Now thay say, that all those who hae come before us live on in tha lights wi touch tha earth from the sky.” Paddy paused and watched the swirling of the flames. In the story there were three bruthars, of whom the youngest was killed. Whenever Paddy heard the story he wished he was a little less alone in the world. It would have been cool to have brothers. “Tha eldest bruthar made peace wi’ tha death o’ his beloved sibling, but the middle bruthar was full o’ rage and hate. He tried tae seek vengeance fer his littlest bruthar, but nae one can seek revenge on nature.

“Tha youngest bruthar looked down on hi family from tha heavens an’ what he saw made him sad. His middle bruthar tried tae kill any animal tha threatened tha camp, even if he didnae need tae. One dae in tha midst o’ winter he watched as his bruthar killed a mother bear who had tried tae steal fish. It was cold and she had a young cub tae feed, it was nae her fault, but he killed her anyway.”

“That’s awful…” Whined a girl in the otherwise hushed front row.

“Shhh…” Gregg’s eyes were twin moons reflecting the firelight. He had never heard the story, which when Paddy thought about it was obvious, because there would never have been anyone to tell them to him. Gregg wouldn’t know any of the shifter creation myths, the stories shared around fires since time immemorial. He wouldn’t know of the woman who fell in love with the tiger, the tale of the stargazing hare in the moon, or the horse who became king. It made the bear suddenly sad for the kid who would go back to a world of humans who would never truly understand his needs.

“Tha youngest bruthar, tha one whi died, decided tha’ his siblings needed hi’ help. His spirit reached down an he used the power of hi’ ancestors and the anger o’ hi’ bruthar tae turn him intae a bear. The eldest bruthar saw what the Great Spirits had done and he helped his bruthar learn tae be a bear.” Paddy smiled. It was the story his uncle’s told in bits and pieces around the fire when their bellies were full of fish: how the eldest brother had taught his sibling to be a bear, to hunt and fish, how to talk to others bears, and live in the wild.

“An’ every spring wh’ tha sky blazes wi’ tha light o’ tha Great Spirits, tha bear an’ his bruthar sit t’gether and talk o’ their bruthar and his wise decision.”

Legend told that he had been the first bear-shifter, and his cubs had been able to change their shape back and forth. He had many cubs, and they travelled the world and formed clans all their own. Paddy smiled into the fire, to the rapt attentive faces of the children who had hung on his every word and raised his head to the stars. For the first time since he’d been a cub, he really believed in the story. The wooden totem of his father found its way into his hand and Paddy couldn’t wait for the time when he would be able to raise his muzzle to the sky and see the shining lights of his ancestors shining down on him.

They put the kids to bed. Gregg was back in his usual tent, and gave Paddy a fast and furtive hug before ducking under the plastic and canvas. Paddy let him go with a sigh. Nic was excited to go and drink with Mr Ralph and his crew of familiar faces, but Paddy excused himself and headed for the cabin. Troy followed him and shut the door as Paddy stripped off his clothes and glowed green.

Troy followed suit and sat on the wooden floor in his fur and began to groom his long ears with swift movements of his webbed paws. Paddy simply followed the line from his heart, found Troy on the other end and tried as best as he could without moving, to wrap himself around the lynx who he loved. He opened his eyes to find himself and the lynx in a fluffy heap, sitting on the thick green grass of the icy salt-scented pine forest.

Troy mewled and purred against him and in his mind Paddy heard the words as his mate looked up at the sky.

Patrick… look…

Paddy turned his muzzle to watch the sky, and blinked as the stars were eclipsed by a flashing blaze of colour. The Northern lights blazed in tones of blue and purple, pink and green touched with yellow and Paddy felt himself relax at the sight. He had no idea if Troy could hear him thinking, but he intoned the words anyway while the spirits danced in the sky.

Oh Great Spirits. Thank you for the man I love, thank you for letting me find him in this place where we can run in the forest. Tell my father I love him. Tell my family I miss them. Great Spirits keep us safe and warm in your eyes, protect us from danger and harm. Look out for Gregg. He needs someone to watch over him. Emil, thank you for your son: I adore him.

Troy purred against his fur, and Paddy decided that for now, being stuck inside a cabin in his fur with the Great Spirits painting the sky in their imaginary land was just going to have to be enough.