Nikolaus Zydek went hunting in the winter of 1908. Although the homesteaders around Carbonado raised plenty of poultry and livestock, some families of miners like Zydek barely managed to scrape by. He bought most of his goods from Carbon Hill Coal’s store and found himself constantly in debt. He often hunted on his days off for grouse, rabbits, squirrels, and, if luck were on his side, deer. A plump, black-tail deer helped feed his family for several weeks.

On a Sunday, he tramped off with his .30.30 rifle toward the forested area around The Notch. When his shift at the mine began at 7:00 in the morning on Monday, he had not returned. His wife and friends became concerned; Zydek had never missed a day of work in his life.

His friends assembled a search party and split into two groups, combing the forested areas on both sides of The Notch. The rain poured unceasingly, helping to obscure any trace of a trail he might have left. By Wednesday the searchers agreed that Nikolaus Zydek must be dead and gave up their rescue attempt. No one could survive that long in cold, rainy conditions.

The following Saturday, a teenage boy, hunting alone, trudged halfway up the slopes of Old Baldy when a whimpering sound caught his ear. Following the noise, the boy came upon a crouching figure, head down, rocking back and forth beneath a clump of evergreen huckleberry bushes. The man huddled there without a stitch of clothes on his body. Too scared to approach the strange sight, the boy ran off to seek help, marking the route by scarring trees with his hunting knife.

The rescuers found Zydek, wrapped him in blankets, and returned him to his home in Carbonado. The doctor who examined him noticed that scratches covered his body. His body was riddled head to toe with scrapes, nicks, and abrasions. His feet were a mess with several toenails partly or completely missing. They thought he must have run naked a long way through the woods to have received such a collection of injuries. No one ever found a trace of his clothes or his rifle. His only comprehensible words sounded like “shaking”, “dark”, and “stink”. The doctor turned up the oil lamp to alleviate the darkness and rubbed his body with camphor to change the smell of the room. They also wrapped him in an extra blanket to keep out the shivering cold, but he continued to murmur the same words like a litany.

Nikolaus Zydek's body gradually mended, but not his mind. After his family took care of him for year, they committed him to a state mental institution. Two years later, attendants found him dead, clutching himself in the corner of his hospital room.

*  *  *  *  *

          On Monday, I think we all walked into school with a spring in our steps from our accomplishment – especially The Bear. Brian’s whole posture, carrying himself straight as a pole with his shoulders back, shouted out greater self-confidence. When he walked, he didn’t look down at his shoes or take furtive peeks over his shoulder like the devil and his henchmen were after him. You might even call it a swagger.

          By second period kids began asking me, in class, in the hall, everywhere. “Is it true, Nathan? Is it really true?”

          My first reaction? “What are you talking about? What’s true?”

          “Did Brian climb to the top of Heap Hill?”

          Well, as it turned out, The Bear had announced to almost everyone the story of our great triumph – apparently in great detail. “We crawled from rock to rock, sometimes on our hands and knees, grabbing hold of plants and pullin’ ourselves up. It was so tough that we wanted to quit. But we’d set a goal. Nothin’ ventured, nothin’ gained, you know.”

          I saw him in the hall working the crowd after third period. I couldn’t stifle a smile – Bear in the middle of a group, hanging on his every word.

          After a little thought, I decided we really did pull off something special. I don’t think any of our classmates had climbed Heap Hill or even thought about climbing it. By lunch time, mixed with the smells of potatoes and gravy, canned peas, and mystery meat sandwiches, the whole cafeteria buzzed with the news.

          As Brian and Jason entered, like magic, a blanket of silence fell over the room. Breaking the spell, a voice rang out in a salute. “Hail, the conquerors of Heap Hill!” Then a table-shaking cheer erupted.

          The Bear lit up with a bigger than life smile, and Jason grinned a bit too.

          As they headed toward our table, a foot shot out. Brian stumbled and almost went down. The foot belonged to Reno Clark.

          Brian turned around, a confused look plastered to his face. “Why’d ya do that, Reno?”

           “I always give payback to liars who make up stories. For Chrissakes, you never climbed Heap Hill!” His body turned sideways in his seat at an insolent angle, and his face wore a sneer that I wanted to wipe off.

          Jason took two quick steps toward Reno. “He climbed it, Reno. That’s more than your sorry ass ever did!”

          Springing to his feet, Reno yelled, “Get outta my face, you faggot!” Then, giving a mighty shove, he sent Jason sprawling to the cafeteria floor – sketchbook flying in one direction, lunch sack in the other.

          At that moment something snapped in Brian Erdman. Seeing his friend lying on the floor, he took a step toward the bully from behind, grabbed him around his upper body with both arms, squeezed, and lifted. Like a rag doll, Reno Clark hung a foot off the floor frantically struggling to free himself.

          “Let go! Let go! I can’t breathe.” The more he wheezed and thrashed about, the more Brian tightened his grip. “I give! I give up!” he rasped.

          Finally, Charlie and I yelled, “Let go, Bear. You’re going to hurt him.”

          When it dawned on Brian what was happening, he relaxed his grip, and Reno dropped to the floor like a piece of thrown away trash.

          The principal, responding to the shouts, marched through the door. With a hand behind each of their necks, Mr. Drake guided them down the straight and narrow hall toward his office. I helped Jason to his feet while Charlie retrieved his lunch and sketchbook. After a while, the three of us followed.

          As it turned out, Brian wasn’t punished. In fact, Mr. Drake praised him for "interceding"; he described Bear’s actions as “restraining Reno". From a distance it probably looked like that. Besides, I think Reno had worn out his welcome in the principal’s office. One of them got a sermon of praise while the other got a three day suspension.

          After school, three of us exited through the front doors. Jason was always late; his favorite class, art, took up last period. “Well, Bear,” I spoke as we stood together on the top step, “you really earned your nickname today.”

          “Whad’ya mean, Nathan?” Brian tilted his head and squinted at me with a confused expression.

          “You gave Reno a bear hug today he’ll never forget. I bet you’ll never have to worry about him bugging you again.”

          “You really think so?” Brian still had that perplexed look glued to his face.

          “I know so,” Charlie chimed in. “See you tomorrow, Bear.”

          Brian bounced his way home with new found confidence in every step and a smile you could see a mile away.

          A little bit later, Jason opened the front door, walking out hunched over and dragging his feet with each step. His posture suggested that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked really down.

          “What’s the matter, Jason? Everything worked out fine today,” I pointed out. “You look depressed.”

          “Nah, I’m okay. I just gotta get home early today. See you guys later.” He continued without stopping.

          “Hey, wait a minute. We’ll walk part way with you.” He paused for a moment while Charlie and I took positions on each side of him. “You’ve got chores this afternoon?”

          “Well, kind of. I need to fix dinner for my dad tonight.” He mouthed the words in an offhand way like it was no big deal.

          “You know how to cook?” I was surprised. “If it wasn’t for TV dinners, I’d starve if my parents weren’t home.”

          “It’s just my dad and me, you know.” I did know that Jason’s mom was dead. “My dad works real hard, so I fix dinner to help out. Nothing fancy, but stuff like stews and casseroles. This summer he says he’s going to take me to Disneyland during vacation.”

          “Disneyland’s awesome. I liked The Matterhorn the best. Your dad sounds like a great guy.” I really wanted to believe that, but I sensed Jason was holding back something.

          “Yes, my dad’s one of a kind.” Jason spoke in a flat voice, almost a monotone.

          Charlie remained quiet during our conversation. We all stopped in front of the decrepit little company house with peeling yellow paint and a rusting metal roof. “See you guys tomorrow.” Jason climbed the wooden steps to the screened-in front porch and waved as he disappeared inside, allowing the screen door to clack shut behind.

          Charlie and I continued walking silently up Pershing Street until we reached Kelley’s Store. I picked up a maple leaf from the sidewalk and sat down on the top step. “Say, what gives with Jason? I don’t think I buy all that stuff about his father.” I turned over the leaf and examined the veins embedded inside. They looked like the blood vessels on the back of a human hand.

          “Well, my friend,” said Charlie, sitting down next to me, “that makes you pretty observant. It’s about time you learned a little more about our artist buddy.” She picked up her own leaf and started jabbing at it with her fingernails. “You’re new here, but I’ve known these guys almost all my life.

          “To start with, Jason has always been a loner here in Carbonado. If you hadn’t noticed his drawings that day, I can almost guarantee that you wouldn’t be palling around with him now.”

          “That doesn’t make much sense to me. What makes him a loner? I mean, he’s a regular guy. He draws pictures better than anyone I’ve ever met. I know he doesn’t get great grades, but he’s really smart. I don’t get it.” Looking at Charlie, I tore apart the maple leaf, letting the pieces fall to the concrete.

          Charlie threw down the leaf she’d practically demolished. “Okay, Nathan. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you what I can. But you’ve got to promise me one thing.”

          “What’s that?”

          “You’ve got to promise you won’t let Jason know I told you this stuff.” She waited for my answer.

          “Okay, Charlie, it’s a promise.”

          “I’ll bet you’ve never heard Jason talk about his dad before today.” She made eye contact, forcing me to respond.

          I thought for a moment. “You’re right. Outside of saying his dad wanted him home or he couldn’t go somewhere because his dad said “no’, he really hasn’t said much about him at all.”

          “Didn’t you ever think that was strange?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You know my dad’s a doctor, and I know that your dad runs the Buckley Thriftway. Of course, Brian doesn’t have a live-at-home dad.

          “All of our parents love us. Sometimes my mom gets too pushy, but I know she still loves me. My dad always wanted a boy, I think, but he adores me.” Her face flickered with a sly grin. “And, Nathan, I’ve got to believe both of your parents love you.”

          “And what makes you think that? You’ve never met them.”

          She shrugged and explained, “Well, Nathan, you’re just so . . . so well-adjusted.”

          “I hope you don’t mean ‘boring’,” I said. The last thing in the world I wanted to be was "boring" -- especially to Charlie.

          "Well, both your eyes and hair are 'boring brown'." She chuckled and then turned serious again. “Of course, I don’t mean anything of the kind.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “Brian’s mom loves him – even though she does try to fatten him like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.” We both snickered at that comparison. “But I’ll bet you don’t even know what Jason’s dad does for a living, even after talking about him today.”

          “No, I don’t.” I wondered how I could be so clueless.

          Charlie got straight to the point. “He works the night shift at the lumber mill as a watchman. He’s also a drunk and a jerk. When he gets home – maybe even before – he starts hitting the bottle – not just beer, but hard liquor. He expects Jason to wait on him hand and foot. Like fixing him dinner by 7:00 in the evening.

        “There’s more to it though. He treats Jason like dirt. Jason’s mom died during childbirth. I overheard that from my dad. His dad blames him, and he never lets Jason forget it.

        “One day, while walking by their house, I heard all this shouting, words like ‘good for nothing’ and ‘you’re the reason your mother’s dead’, then in the next breath ‘you’re just like your mother’. I think he’s even hit Jason a few times.”

        She paused for a moment while I mulled over her words. I tried to think of something wise to say, but all that came out was, “No wonder Jason keeps to himself. He doesn’t seem to trust many people. I’ll bet you he’s making up fairy tales about Disneyland and his dad because he's ashamed and wants to have a normal life like the rest of us.”

        Finally, Charlie turned to me and said, “Yeah, life with his father must be like hell. I can’t think of anything worse than putting up with that damn, miserable drunk.” Unable to contain herself, she rose to her feet, kicked the top step, and started pacing back and forth.

        Shocked – I peered up at Charlie with wide eyes. It was the first time ever heard a girl swear, but not the last. I quickly gained control; after all, Charlie wasn’t any ordinary girl.