By: Alyssa N. Madrid, Non-fiction Editor
The last time I was in Ruidoso, New Mexico, I was plagued by sunny skies, pine trees, and bears. It was Father’s Day weekend, and we were on our way to a timeshare in Ruidoso to celebrate the occasion. Amongst the vast desert of the southern part of the state, Ruidoso is one of the blips of otherness that really made the short trip feel like I was a world away from home. One minute, there’s nothing but 100-year-old mesquite bushes and dry plants on the side of the road; the next, I’m taking in a forest of pines overwhelming the mountains on either side of the road. If that wasn’t enough of a change, I couldn’t get used to seeing deer hiding in the trees or chilling in the middle of town and munching on people’s lawns. My dad had also mentioned that New Mexico- Ruidoso specifically- was also home to bears. Which I thought was cute at first until my dad had me google bear attacks. They seemed less cute after that.
On our last night in Ruidoso and my dad, brother, sister, and I all sat on patio chairs on the balcony of our friend’s condo eating s’mores.
“Dad, you keep burning the marshmallows,” my sister said, trying to snatch the stick away before the gooey cylinder turned into another charred mess.
“Hands off, bossy. And I don’t see you doing much better,” replied my dad.
“I could really get used to this,” I said, leaning back and kicking my feet up on another chair.
“What?” asked Briana, my sister.
“Living out here amongst all the wild things,”
“Right…LOOK A BEAR,” Michael yelled abruptly.
“What! Where,” I yelled before I realized he was just kidding. “Very funny.”
“Yeah, totally at one with nature,” said my sister, still laughing at me. I just stuck my tongue out at her.
Later, my brother went to take the trash out to the bin down the street, and my dad, sister, and I were all sitting in the living room when we started to hear a wailing noise coming from outside. We all waited for a moment before we went to the front door to see where the sound was coming from to find my brother sprinting toward us while screeching.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” said my dad looking outside as if he expected someone with a knife or chainsaw might be what drove my brother back to the condo.
“Isawafreakenbearthat’swhat’sthematterwithme,” said my brother in one breath.
“Tsk, no manches. You probably got it confused with a raccoon or a deer,” said my dad.
“I swear I’m not lying this time,” he promised.
“Well, at least your scream probably scared it off for a while. We’ll just take the trash out in the morning before we leave. Time to get some sleep.”
Early the next morning, I had already forgotten all about the bear until my dad brought up needing to take out the trash.
“Nose goes,” my brother said. I was never any good at that game, so I ended up being the one that had to throw the trash as we left. The bear is probably gone by now, right? Everything looked quiet and in the dark of the early morning as we drove to the dumpster, so I felt assured that the bear was long gone. As I stepped out of the van, I noticed a darker shadow hanging over the edge of the big metal bin, and at first, I thought it was just the lid bent at a long angle. But then the lid stood straight up and cocked its head at me, and I realized I was staring at the bear. It took me a second to process what I was seeing, but when I did, I just yelled “Aahhhh,” and turned to leave, but I remembered I still had the trash bag. So I turned back around and threw the bag in the general direction of the dumpster and took off running as the bear got back on all fours. It’s coming for me. Holy shit! Brother Bear is a lie!
“Go! Start the car,” I yelled as I made for the safety of the van, and dove into the backseat. When I turned around to see how close the bear was, it simply lumbered away from the dumpster and us.
“Oh. My. God. I could have died,” I said, panting as my dad pulled onto the road leading back to the highway. Which was when I finally realized my dad and brother were laughing at me while my sister just stared open-mouthed at the fading figure of the bear behind us.
“Honestly, the way you yelled and threw the trash at the dumpster…the bear looked more offended than anything,” my dad joked.
“So not funny, you guys,”
“Oh, it’s not, is it?” mocked my brother.
“Whatever,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. I’m going back to sleep. Let me know when all I have to worry about are normal things like rattlesnakes.”
Alyssa Madrid is a senior at NMSU majoring in Creative Writing with a minor in Government and is due to graduate in the spring. She enjoys reading as much as writing and will pursue a career in publishing post-graduation, with the hopes of publishing work of her own.
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