The Bear


We used to take animal intestines and stretch them across the faces of the animal in sacrifice to the Mayan Gods. We called it a face cake. As the ritual would go, one eighteen year old boy would have to venture into the forest with one goat. You made the face cake from the goat in attempt to lure a bear. You were not allowed to return to the village unless you brought back the left foot of a bear.

That year I was selected by the elders out of all the villagers to have this honor and take this journey. I said goodbye to my friends and family. The high counsel gave me my goat, and together we ventured off across the desert to get to the forest on the other side. As I was walking three demons stopped me. They called me names and threw things at me. Still I went on but they followed me. One demon told me that I’d never make it across the desert. The other told me that I would never navigate my way through the forest, and the last one told me that Butch would kill me.
Butch was the forest god who came to people in the form of a bear. In all my life I’ve only seen one man that was stupid enough to hunt for Butch. His name was Davey Jones. Davey never returned to the village. Most people presumed he was dead. Others were not sure if he was still hunting for Butch, or if he decided to live some were else. (What actually happened to him was a whole lot worse…)
The demons continued to follow me through the desert. The demons where oddly dressed. They wore long green jackets, and skin tight shirts with long blue pants. Their hair was short and in an up position. One would often mistake them for regular people if not for their most obvious trait. They had no eyes. In place of their eyes, was a dense dark purple fog. This gave them a distinct dark aura that loomed about them.
When I finally reached the edge of the desert my stomach felt inside out and dry like leather. The demons knew that I was parched and offered me a sip of their cantina. I took the cantina, as not to be rude, but mostly because my thirst clouded my judgment. There was no water in the cantina, but instead the cantina was filled with their excrements. I threw the cantina at the ground and screamed at the top of my lungs that ‘I shall bring death to them’. They laughed at me, and threw me to the mud. The middle demon shuffled and cried to the sky “In act of treason towards your fellow demon, we shall take his leg for that reason!” The demons then grabbed me by my knees and bent them broken.
The demons then left. As I lay there in agony with my goat I begin to remember something, something from my childhood. My father and I were out hunting, and I ended up twisting my ankle. He told me that any broken leg can be fixed with a splint.
There was a tree nearby. I crept over to it. I unleashed my goat and grabbed two sticks. With the leash and sticks I made a splint for myself. My leg would be completely useless until it was healed, and now I would have nothing to lead my goat. I would have to carry him through the forest now.
The forest was a tangled up mess of vines and trees. There was no path, except for those who had walked through here previously. I had to get to the middle of the forest and cook the face cake which I would have to make out of the goat. It is a long and mind numbing process.
Every step taken was harder than the last. My leg was all but dead weight. It kept getting caught on vines and logs. The sweat on my brow grew thicker as I had to carry the goat across my back. The goat squirmed and tried to get away. It eventually gave up, and fell asleep on my back. How nice it must have been to get some rest.
I carried on for hours. Then I was at a cross roads. One way was clearer than the other. I saw water towards the end of one path, and also what appeared to be fruit! The other way was dark and ominous, with more vines and logs then I could ever count. I was thinking about how nice it would be to take the easy path, swimming in the pool of water and replenishing my world with fresh fruit and cool libation. But then, out of nowhere, I was stopped. A woman came up from behind me. She startled me and caused me to fall. My goat ran down the darker path. The woman was wearing a long gray robe. She had her hood up so I could not see her face. She asked me which path I was thinking about taking. I told her that the goat from my village is the only goat that I may use to seduce the bear out of hiding. She told me that the easy side would have goats up ahead that I could sacrifice, but the hard side would cause me to trip and stumble. I told her I would choose the harder path, because otherwise how will I learn to place my feet. She smiled at me, and let me go my way.
The path grew thicker and thicker. I was climbing more than I was crawling most of the time. After a while I found my goat tangled up in some vines and whisker bushes. It took all my effort to free him then he got loose and ran off again. I climbed more and more. I hated myself for choosing this path. I thought my torment would never end. It would just keep going on and on forever. I thought to myself that the path I took may have been a fool’s path.
I found my goat again caught in a bush. I set him free but I did not have the strength to capture him. The journey was beginning to get easier now. It wasn’t the worst decision I’ve ever made. I was learning my lesson to not put my foot in stupid places. I found my goat the third time. This time was different. I freed him but he did not scurry. I had gained his trust and he decided to walk with me
The goat was actually pleasant company. I began to use him to keep my mind off of the difficult journey. He would get stuck sometimes and I would free him. In return he would help me pull myself up when I fell. I didn’t want to name him. It would be too much of a bond. After five hours my goat and I made it to a stream. We drank and slept for hours. The water was brown and dirty and the ground was covered in rocks. It was like an oasis, a gift from the gods.
Night was approaching. It was almost time to kill my goat. He was asleep under a tree. He looked so peaceful. He helped me all day. I can’t do it. I couldn’t kill my goat. I sat there watching him sleep. This goat was with me through it all. He was my only true friend on this journey. I had to name him. I had to protect him like he was my own blood. I can’t sacrifice my goat.
I’ll name him after the Legend Davey Jones only because he may be the only other person in the woods at the moment. I will find a way to return to the village. I’ll think about it in the morning. I need rest now. I sat down next to Davey and fell asleep.







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There was a feeling that woke me. A feeling of terror and dred came over my body. A feeling so terrifying that it would bring me to tears in under a second. There was something very big hovering over me. It was the size of at least three temples. The cold metallic snout of a god was breathing down my neck. I sat up to look at him, and he was looking at me, his eyes where a scolding death, his body was all but metal and fire. He growled at me and screamed. “WHERE IS MY GOAT, WHY HAVE YOU NOT GIVEN IT TO ME!?”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think. I sat there in pure shock waiting for my death to come. I almost couldn’t hear the noise coming from the distance, but Butch seemed to notice. Butch noticed the wild screams of a dazed and confused old man swinging through the trees like some kind of ape, armed with only a spear at his side. Butch noticed it so much that it completely distracted him from me. He grabbed the Legend Davey Jones with one hand. With all of Davey’s will power and desire to live he tried, but could not struggle free. It was not enough. Butch screamed at such a frequency that all the pressure from his body entered into his skull, causing it to explode clean free of his old body.
I ran. I ran faster than a cheetah in the grass. I didn’t bother with how much my leg was hurting. I just kept running all the way back to my village. I returned by day break. I was almost executed at the gate for coming back without a bear’s foot. I was hysterical. I couldn’t breathe. Once I regained my breath and told them what I saw. They told me that I was not welcome here. That I was cursed by the forest god. They did not want me to bring the curse back to their village. I was Banished from the land, and at the mercy of the desert.
Night came and I could not sleep. The events of the day were more than I can bear. My bed was a rock; instead of the warmth of the covers was the icy cold rain. Thunder scared me every time it cracked, and in a flash of lightning Butch appeared again, sitting like a gargoyle on the edge of a tower. He out stretched his arm, and let my goat plummet to the ground. He had killed my goat Davey Jones. “BREATH YOUNG ONE!” he hollered, “I WILL NOT BRING HARM TO YOU! I WISH TO MAKE YOU AN OFFER!” I nodded “YOU ARE NOT WORTH MORE TO ME THEN YOUR PETTY GOAT! I WILL NOT KILL YOU IF YOU PROMISE TO TELL YOUR STORY TO EVERYONE YOU MEET FOREVER!” I nodded and screamed “I agree! I agree!” Butch snarled, and in another flash of lightning he was gone.
I kept my end of the bargain, and he kept his. Today is my 400th birthday. When he said forever, he really meant forever, and now you have heard the story.