Devolution: A Firsthand Account of the Rainier Sasquatch Massacre(45)

Mostar immediately followed up with a chuckling, “So we have a fuzzy visitor,” and with a gesture out to the tree line, she said, “and we might also have solved the mystery of who killed that wounded mountain lion.” At that, Vincent threw up his hands in a silent “eureka” gesture. I heard an affirmative mmm from Carmen as well as a grunt from Reinhardt. Mostar, smiling so slightly, continued with, “Which means we’ve got to be a little more careful, don’t you think?”

More approving sounds, more supportive body language. It was crazy, what Dan would call a “Bizarro World” moment. Mostar leading the room.

And then she asked, “So does anyone have bear spray?”

Record scratch.

No one said anything for a tense moment, until Bobbi blurted out “No!” I think her own forcefulness surprised her. But when we all looked over, she continued, “That’s so cruel! They’re just trying to eat, and you want to mace them?”

Mostar’s face didn’t change. Serene, diplomatic, I can only imagine the words she was biting down. “I’m just thinking about the cougar,” she said calmly, probably with her bones rattling from the strain, “how we don’t want anything like that to happen again.”

Bobbi argued, “We were surprised. And if we’re just more conscientious from now on, watch where we’re going, make sure we give the compost bins some space…”

Effie looked like she was about to disagree with Bobbi, but as she shifted to speak, Carmen cut in. “Or…if we clean out the bins, move the edible waste into the woods, away from the houses, they…”

“Then they won’t have a reason to come close.” Reinhardt completed the thought chain with a very smug expression. No doubt, he was somehow congratulating himself for the plan.

Bobbi looked happily relieved. She grabbed Vincent’s hand and turned to Dan. “No one expects you to do that, Danny, we’ll all do it ourselves. It’s only fair.”

Again, no change from Mostar. Okay, maybe just the tiniest tension in her voice? I think I know her well enough by now to see what repressed anger looks like. “Isn’t it…,” she said slowly, clearly considering each word, “dangerous to feed the bears?”

A pause from the room. Bobbi looked to Vincent for backup. “I think that’s only in heavy tourist areas,” he said. “More of a long-term, seasonal issue than a one-off situation like ours.”

Bobbi added, “And, if you mean ‘dangerous’ to the bears, I think it’s only if they lose their hunting instincts by becoming dependent on humans.”

Vincent brought it around with, “Which, again, isn’t an issue because our compost can’t make more than one meal at best.”

“But,” again, Mostar treaded lightly, “won’t putting that meal out…encourage them?”

“For what?” That was Carmen. “Bears aren’t aggressive. Not unless you surprise them with their cubs.” As if to accentuate the point, she reached past Effie to stroke Palomino’s cheek.

Is any of this true? Carmen’s explanation for why bears attack, the Boothes’ justification for feeding them just this once?

Mostar looked about to burst. I could see the shift, the boiling rise. No more consensus building, no more playing nice. I remember thinking clearly, Oh shit, here we go.

But then the craziest thing happened.

Her face. I’d never seen this expression. Drooping, eyes down and to the side, like she was taking a call from someone in her head. This was all new, totally indecipherable. When she refocused on the room, her voice, I’d never heard it so far away.

“All right then, let’s get to it.”

And her walk afterward. Slow, dragging. Everything about her. Like God had hit the dimmer switch.

She walked right past us, not acknowledging Dan’s “Mostar?”

No one seemed to notice her change but us. Why would they? Rushing off with their new, exciting little project. Always looking out for themselves. Our community.

Except Pal. Her worried eyes shifted from me to Mostar as her parents led her away.

“Mostar?” We followed her to her house. I’d called after her this time, and again when she reached the front door. “Mostar, what’s the matter?” As she reached for the knob, I put my hand on hers. That seemed to snap her out of it. Eyes again refocused, looking up at me, hand on my cheek.

“I’m sorry, Katie. And you too, Danny.” A quick glance around at the dispersing crowd, then hustling us into and through her house to the backyard.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you first about the ‘bear’ tactic.” We were standing on her back steps now, looking at the tracks across her yard. “I thought it was the best way to reach them. Frame the discussion in something more familiar.” She stepped down onto the ash, toward the nearest footprint. The sky had been clear all day and night and these prints were as sharp as when they’d been made. She opened her hands to the first one, looking at us.

“Of course, I believe you, but they wouldn’t. Too many mental hurdles. Believing the unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Like being warned that the country you’ve grown up in is about to collapse, that the friends and neighbors you’ve known your whole life are going to try to kill you…” She sighed deeply, hands up to the sky. A flash of anger. “Denial. Comfort zone. Too strong. And who are any of us to judge them?”