Sunday, May 14, 2006

FF #36

A cool breeze licked the back of her neck when Louise opened the tent flap and stepped outside. Although it was early May, the Rocky Mountain air was still cooling down to the low forties at night but she had to go. George had dug a potty hole in the ground below the fork of a fallen tree and she carried the toilet paper over there, peeing for what seemed like five minutes-- damn George, damn beer!

After she finished, she went back to the tent where George was snoring like a grizzly. She zipped up her jacket, slid his rifle out of the tent, slung it over her shoulder with the strap and walked out of the campsite and into the woods. Dawn had broken well enough to cast a dim light in through the trees and she followed the markers (foot long strips of two inch wide yellow crime scene banner ribbon) George had pinned to the trees. As she reached each marker she jerked them down and stuffed them into her jacket. A wry smile curled her lips as she thought about George and what he would do when he woke up with his usual hangover and found her gone.


George rolled over and felt like a loaf of baking bread as the sun beat down on the tent. He sat up with a groan, saw Louise's empty bedroll and he crawled out of the tent. "Louise!" he shouted and the sound echoed off the mountains. "Goddammit woman! Where you at?" He went over to the beer coller, picked the last beer out of the tepid water inside and drank it greedily while pissing on the ground. He threw the can into the woods and turned around and went into immediate shock as he looked up at the grizzly bear looming over him. The grizzly snarled then swiped George's head off with one giant paw.


Louise waited a week before reporting George missing. She weepingly told the police he liked to go camping along but this time he hadn't returned.

Park rangers discovered the campsite a week later and found only George's left hand. One month later Louise flew off to Paris to camp out in a luxury hotel with George's life insurance.