Bears Beware (4 page)

Mitchell leaned over. “Why don’t you be Owen’s partner?”

“Are you crazy?” Charlie said.

Mrs. Farelli frowned.

“I guess I’ll be partners with Owen,” Mitchell said.

“Good going,” said Mr. Adam Farelli. “Look for everything you see on your paper. Check off each one when you find it.”

“There will be prizes for sharp eyes,” Mrs. Farelli said.

Owen was nodding. “I know what the prizes are.”

“Never mind, Owen,” she said.

Mr. Farelli leaned against his truck.

Mitchell waited for the fender to drop off.

Mr. Farelli held up his hand. “Look for something unusual.”

Mitchell didn’t want to be surprised. He wanted to be home watching television.

Mrs. Farelli nodded. “Keep your eyes peeled. Check the pictures. Keep away from poison ivy.”

Mitchell would keep away from animals with teeth, too.

“Ready, set—” Mr. Farelli began.

Owen didn’t wait for
go
.

He grabbed Mitchell’s arm and took off.

“Don’t forget,” Mr. Farelli called. “Stay on the paths.”

Mitchell stumbled along with Owen. He’d probably have black-and-blue marks later.

“We have to hurry!” Owen yelled. “We have to win.”

They zigzagged down the paths.

Owen hopped over a rock.

Mitchell hopped too late. “Yeow!” he yelled.

His toe was probably broken in half.

At last Owen let go of his arm.

Mitchell took a couple of deep breaths. He bent down to rub his toe inside his sneaker.

“I know we’ll win this,” Owen said. “My grandmother said she’d give me a great partner.”

Mitchell had a warm feeling in his chest.

Mrs. Farelli thought he was great!

Then he thought of Habib and Charlie. They’d have Bugs Be Gone all over them. They’d be eating chicken and cupcakes.

Mitchell looked around.

Were he and Owen lost?

Already?

He could just about see a corner of the Critter Cabin.

Owen leaned closer.

He still had oatmeal on his chin. There was a blob on his ear.

How did he eat, anyway?

“Guess what the prizes are,” Owen said.

Mitchell thought. Something wonderful?

A couple of days off from school?

Owen grinned. “Oatmeal bars with raisins for dessert.”

Gross
, Mitchell thought.

“I helped my grandmother make them. Stuck my fingers in the dough a thousand times,” Owen said. “I ate a bunch of raisins. The cookies are all wrapped up now so ants and things can’t get to them.”

Mitchell took a step away from him. It was too horrible to think about.

M
itchell walked along. He looked back.

What had happened to Owen?

He heard a clicking noise ahead. It was Trevor on his stilts. He was talking to his friend Clifton.

A moment later, the path disappeared.

Mitchell seemed to be going up a hill. There was a sign:
DEER WALK
.

He didn’t see deer.

He saw a mess of weeds. He heard a mosquito.

His feet were sinking into mud.

Maybe that was one of Mr. Farelli’s surprises.

He heard Angel crashing around. “Mitchell!” she screamed.

She’d be calling him a baby any minute.

He kept going down the other side.

He looked at his paper. The first picture was a sticker bush with berries.

Watch out
, the paper said.
Stickers are sharp!

Mitchell raised each foot high as he walked.

He kept his eyes peeled for stickers.

He kept his eyes peeled for other surprises. Snakes. Poison ivy. Coyotes.

He heard Gina humming an opera song.

And wasn’t that Charlie talking to Habib?

“Wait up, guys!” Mitchell
yelled. He yelled quietly. He didn’t want Angel to hear him.

He dashed through a bunch of weeds.

Yeow!

They weren’t weeds. They were stickers.

He bent down to scratch his leg.

Never mind. He crossed the sticker bush off his list.

He couldn’t hear Habib and Charlie anymore.

Everything was quiet.

No, not exactly quiet.

Birds chirped. A red one flew around.

Mitchell hoped it wasn’t a bat.

He found a picture of the bird: a cardinal.

He checked it off.

He was getting as
smart as Gary Bopper. And brave, too. Out in the wilderness alone.

He began to whistle. Almost whistle. It was more like a windstorm.

Too bad. Everyone else in the world could whistle. Even Angel.

He heard something.

It wasn’t a bird. Not unless the bird was a hundred pounds.

Mitchell stopped on one foot.

The sound stopped, too.

Was an animal stalking him?

Last night he’d watched a movie on TV. It was the scariest thing he’d ever seen.

Angel hadn’t thought it was scary. She’d sat on the couch. She’d put polish all over her nails.

In the movie, the good guy had tried to hide. But he couldn’t find a place.

Mitchell looked around. There was no place to hide here, either.

Run, then.

The guy on TV had tried to run, too.

He’d tripped and fallen off a cliff. He’d almost broken his arm off.

Something zoomed past Mitchell.

A bear?
Don’t be scared
, Mitchell told himself. “Bears beware,” he whispered.

He began to run.

He dashed around bushes.

He waded through plants.

It was a good thing there weren’t any cliffs.

There was the animal! Right in front of him.

It was small, and it was round and fat.

The animal saw him, too. It stared with terrible little eyes. Then it dashed away on skinny legs.

Mitchell dashed away, too.

Right into a tree.

Oof. He felt as if his head were dented in.

He was like Mr. Farelli’s old truck. A broken head. A broken toe.

Gary Bopper
, he told himself about ten times.
Bears beware!

He looked up at the tree. It was an oak tree. He knew that without looking at the picture on the paper.