Original Stories Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Realism Fan Fiction ❯ Bear Goes Nanners ❯ Bear Goes Nanners ( Chapter 1 )

Bear Gyrlls Goes 'Nanners

What I am about to tell you, the reader of this far-fetched tale, is the simple truth- a truth that has been deemed questionable over the past two weeks after the fact. As of August 2007, my friends and I were considered lucky to be alive, however, the media has shunned our claims and branded us to be liars. Our classmates and teachers believe otherwise and could tell you nothing more than what I have: the truth we have seen with our very eyes. It can't be said in any other way.

It was a starry night like any other...

Nighttime embraced the purple-hued hills of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, ushering in sounds of cicadas singing wearily the dirge that darkness had brought forth into the world when the sun crept away. The forests seemed to be swallowed by the blackness, leaving scarce traces of the life it had held. It was a scary world in these woods. I've heard stories of inexperienced tourists who've hiked here and inexplicably lost their way, leaving them to themselves in the solitary shade of night. Some have made it out okay, while others...you know, never made it out alive. Sometimes, their bodies were never found amongst the clutter of the ancient forests that dominated the state of Tennessee, but in other cases, bits of human bones and tattered clothing were found inside the stomach of a starved black bear. I have no reason to fear the dark because I know these mountains well. My dad and I have trekked the copious trails that intertwined the hills so many times. In addition, Cades Cove found our presence to be familiar, for our footsteps have fallen there a many of weekends.

I found myself restless on this night because of the smothering heat that coiled itself like a rattlesnake, sharp fangs aimed at the southeast. I tried to my best effort to sleep without my sleeping bag, hoping the heat would escape me with this action, but as the law of nature goes, you can't escape what the man upstairs dictates. I accepted this and reached for my trusty, lime green Ipod that lay hidden in the front pocket of my knapsack and uncoiled the tiny earbuds, which had been previously wrapped around them. I turned the tiny machine on and selected the newest installment to my music collection, Korn's new acoustic album. I sat there in discomfort and forced myself to draw the moody and tenacious lyrics inside my inner core to relax myself. It had helped some, but it didn't do much justice to the nagging feeling I had. I gazed my heavy eyes to my friends, who were sound asleep nearby. Lindsay was curled up into a ball, peacefully, and Truitt was snoring loudly, in the same way he did the night before. How could they do that? I wondered to myself. There's no way I can sleep in this heat. For God's sakes, our AC's messed up back home and I've been forced to sleep in my underwear. At least this outing was somewhat of a vacation from the small, country town of Madisonville and the bustling hallways of SQHS. It was only three weeks ago; a short notice for a trip such as this, one whose consequences were dire for the average clumsy teenager. Three Forks Campground in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park- That's what the permission form exclaimed when I put my eyes on the paper. The experience should be able to 'expose students to the outdoors and teach them responsibility and self-reliance' through the planned 7 day field trip. Self-reliance, my left foot. More like Spring Break all over again. Ever since we had gotten here, Lindsay and Truitt both were acting like complete idiots, horse playing and laughing while I tried to light the campfire. I constantly nagged them like a mother scolding her unruly children, pleading for the two to act like normal human beings but it didn't work at all. Lindsay became upset at my remarks, clearly not understanding that I'm in the right and sneered, "Lighten up, Amanda, we're just trying to have a little fun. You know, you need to relax a little...."

I shook my head, irritated, and said, "We have responsibilities here, you know. This isn't a Baskin Robbins vacation."

I chuckled under my breath at the memory and smiled vaguely at my two sleeping companions. They were so much fun to yell at and that had given me another reason to believe that my life was somehow complete with them as my companions. Unzipping the tent door, I spared another glance to them. They were still sound asleep and I wanted to keep it that way, so I crept precariously around their sleeping forms with light feet until I had finally made it outside. Ugh, it's still hot out here. At least it's cooler out here than it is in there. I thought to myself, exasperated and sweating.

The campground was pitch black and the fires that other students had lit had burned out in the midnight hour, but they still shown signs of life through the pulsating embers that had not yet cooled off. Faintly, I could hear the crackling and popping of a vagrant's campfire nearby and immediately, I became frightened. Like I said earlier, sometimes people become astray at night when they are disoriented by fear. Other times, they were attacked by wild animals...or in some cases, people, so I instinctively knew to be on my guard at all times while I was out here. Silently, I tiptoed closer to the unfamiliar fire with both of my fists clenched, ready for the occasion if it needed be and peeked cautiously over the hungry flames that were licking the air around them. A sigh of relief. I recognized that person who was sitting next to his campfire. He was that hippie we seen when we first came here a couple of days ago. The teachers were alarmed by his appearance: his face was dirty and smudged with mud and bits of it were dangling from his scruffy, chestnut colored beard. His clothes were worn and tattered with age and exposure to the elements; surprisingly, the only clean-looking thing on him was a forest camo colored bandana that was tightly wrapped around his head. He didn't say anything, but the pleading look on his face told a different story: he was lost and had no idea where he was. I understand how scary that is to lose your way in an unfamiliar territory, trust me. I would be the one to easily panic, but this guy seemed unphased and looked at the situation with blasé. He even looked somewhat.... happy to be there on his own. Maybe that's why Ms.Davis led us away from him when we first came off the bus or maybe it was because of Truitt's big mouth. When he first glanced at the hippie, he nearly squealed with delight, "Oh my God, it's a freakin' hippie, Lindsay. Let's go say 'hi' to him!" Lindsay giggled in that annoying, little girl of vocalization that has made her so uh...famous at our school, "Whoa, let's ask him if has any 'special brownies', all right Truitt?" Truitt shook his head in agreement, grinning all the while and said, "Let's go! To the hippie! 'Special brownies', here we come!" Before the two ran, and thank God she did this or else I'd be severely embarrassed like always, Ms.Davis yelled, "Lindsay and Truitt, stop right there! Don't go anywhere near that man! You don't know who he is or what he's capable of...." I can only imagine if those two had it their way and asked that poor man if he had any 'special brownies'. Judging by how innocent and pious he looks, I'd say he'd slap both of them at the same time. That's what I'd do too if I was asked that stupid of a question by a couple of giggling teenagers.

The hippie sat there still, not acknowledging my presence and busied himself with the task of stoking his fire, rubbing his stomach tenderly from the big meal he had gobbled down earlier. He looked so peaceful with the fire's glow caressing his face gently. He laid himself down on the hardened dirt and let out a massive belch that could alarm any animal sleeping nearby, including Lindsay and Truitt, and chuckled to himself, quietly saying, "Mmmm....Ground squirrel....."

I shook my head and thought, typical male. I managed to sneak away into our part of the campground and seriously began to think about sitting down on one of the logs that surrounded our campfire.

It was then I that I had heard something strange. Sticks and the underbrush began to crackle under weight, small shrubs were pushed aside, snapping their fragile braches, and the scariest part was all was the loud, heavy breathing that rang out into the night. Clearly, an animal could not utter that kind of a sound, no, it had to be human. "What's that?" I heard an unfamiliar, deep voice say from behind me. I turned around and stared. It was the hippie. He must have heard the racket, too. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "I don't know. It's not an animal, though."

"Hey!" he yelled into the forest, "Hey, who are you?" Immediately, I stopped him, thinking his plan was crazy and whispered, "What do you think you're doin'?"

"If it's a person, he may be injured. I just want to see..."

"No!" I yelled out. “You don't know that!"

"You don't either, kid.” he answered sarcastically.

"Do it your way, then." I sneered.

"Okay, I will!" he said and continued on with his plan, "Hey, are you okay?"

The racket grew louder. "Be quiet!" I hissed. "It's comin'."

We didn't expect to see a man materialize from the woods. It was assumed, but a person would never figure that it would happen-you know, a presumably lost person wondering his way into semi-civilization. The man pushed aside a pine branch that was hindering his way and answered breathlessly, "I'm all...right." He had a strange accent that I immediately identified as British. The answer didn't satisfy the hippie and it was by sheer instinct that he asked charismatically, "Are you sure, fella? You don't sound like it...." The exasperated man nodded his head and breathed out, "Yeah. I'm just...tired, that's all."

He was lying, I could tell by the way his eyes refused to make contact with the hippie's, as if he had been in shame or he couldn't muster up an effort to trust us both. Either way, he appeared to be very ill: his face was a ghastly shade of white and pleaded for care, but his eyes, those dark eyes...were hollow, as if he was heavily drugged and exuded an almost feral anger to the outside world. The hippie sensed this and tried to make conversation with the man, asking in a serene voice, "Well, can you tell me your name?"

"Grylls," the man replied in a terrifying serenity, "Bear Grylls."

The hippie was stricken with aghast and exclaimed, "You're Bear Grylls, that man who does the survival shows on the Discovery Channel!"

Bear Grylls' face turned dark with rage as if the hippie had said something offensive and said through clenched teeth, "Don't play stupid with me, you bloody fool."

The hippie was confused, "What do you mean, Mr.Gyrlls?"

Bear didn't say a thing; instead, he produced a shiny black object from his pant's pocket and pointed it towards the hippie's head angrily. The steel clicked beneath his finger's embrace of the trigger, silencing the air around us.

"Put that thing away.... you don't know what you're doing.... It's a mistake- you must have me confused with someone else...” the hippie stammered, staring apprehensively into the barrel of Bear's Beretta handgun.

Bear somehow found his pitiful plea to be amusing and started laughing like a crazed person, "Oh, a mistake, is it now? Is it a mistake that you caused me to lose my job?"

My eyes went wide by his claim, "What?! You lost your job? But...I don't understand..."

Bear shook his head, still keeping his gun focused, dead aim to the hippie's head and said somberly, "What does it matter? I've lost my job, my marriage is on the rocks, and my life is ruined, all because of this man standing here in front of me. But does he care? Absolutely not."

"I didn't...." The hippie cried out, but was quickly silenced by the icy chill of the gun's barrel as Bear pressed it firmly against his forehead.

"SHUT UP!!" Bear screamed out, his harsh voice radiating coldly into the night and quickly became embraced into darkness. It was enough to wake the dead, that's for sure and the metallic buzz of tent doors unzipping in surprise and confusion signaled everyone became aware of the situation. Yet, they had absolutely no idea they had became unwillingly sitting ducks, playing as an instrument of Bear's deepening madness. Hushed, unintelligible whispers soon took over from the newly awakened students and teachers, blind to the events going on around them and random points followed in the direction of the noise. Thereafter, Lindsay appeared first, her reddish hair tasseled wildly from sleep and eyes bleary and asked sheepishly, "Hey, what's going on out here? Do you know what time it is?"

"No, Lindsay, go back inside!" I yelled in a threatening manner and another familiar face had shown itself, causing my heart to sink. It was Truitt and if anyone could make a bad situation worse, it would be him, of course.

"Why?!" Truitt whined.

"Because I said so. Believe me on this one, just go back inside." I ordered, motioning my hand toward the tent.

"No," Bear interjected defiantly, eyeing the trembling and terrified hippie, "They need to know...everything. I would think they'd love to figure out what the racket's been about, eh? Is that what you'd say too, dear friend?" His dark eyes darted wildly around every inch of the premises until they became transfixed with Truitt's frightened gaze. It was as if time itself had slowed down dangerously in that glance, and it was felt by everyone that time itself had stopped when Bear began his bold move toward Truitt, shifting his bloodthirsty attention elsewhere.

Truitt looked up at Bear Gyrlls in a fearful wonderment, managing only to utter out, "H-hey, why are you coming up to me for?"

Bear smiled dangerously and proceeded to seize Truitt by the neck with a free arm, pointing the gun toward his temple with the other. The growing crowd grew silent by his action, with the exception of Lindsay, who screamed out in distress. As for myself, the words to say had escaped me because I was in so much shock. I had heard rumors that Bear gotten himself into some trouble and my heart ached for the truth. Why would someone this skilled in the trade of survival allow himself to get in over his head? And why would this average hippie-looking guy play a hand in Bear's loss of a job? I found my mind reeling with questions, but more importantly, I was afraid for Truitt's safety. Granted, the guy gets on my nerves, but nobody deserves to be held at gunpoint by a crazed survivalist, nobody. How would I rescue him without the both of us getting hurt? I secretly planned the strategy as the drama played on.

Bear tightened his grip and whispered into Truitt's ear in a soft voice that commanded attention, "Here's what's going to happen, lad. I'm going to get my friend here to tell me everything he knows. If he slips up, then it's the end for you. Likewise, if you try anything stupid, then I'll see to it that your pretty little mohawk is gone as well as the organs that support your head. Do I make myself clear?"

Truitt was silent, unsure of what to say.

"Do I make myself clear?" Bear repeated. Truitt nodded, knowing it was the only response he had left. Bear then focused his attention toward the others, saying, "That goes for all of you! If any of you does so much as stopping me in any way, shape, or form, the young man with the mohawk gets it!" No one could muster up the courage to challenge him and done as he had asked. His original target, the hippie, was the only one who actually stepped forward out of his own guilt. He stayed in his frozen stance, guilt flooding his expressions and asked, "What do you want from me? Why did you have to bring a child into this? If you are so angry at me, then why don't you shoot me where I stand?!"

"Oh..well, where's the fun in that? I'd at least want to hear you beg for your life before you die. Then it would be justifiable, eh?" Bear answered with a laugh that sounded like he was enjoying his little cat and mouse game. "All right, let the game begin." he added.

I reached out for Truitt and cried, "Truuuuiiitttt!!!!"

Bear stared in amusement into my eyes and savored my fears like the animal he was named for and warned, "That rule applies to you too, little bonnie lass." My spine grew icy from that remark.

"Leave her alone!" the hippie cried out, "Save your BAD talk for me, Bear. I'm curious to hear it."

"Hmmm...okay," Bear said and fixed his gaze into the hippie's determined gaze, "How about you tell us your name?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with this, so I suggest you say it. The clock's ticking for your little friend here." Bear demanded.

The hippie swallowed hard and answered the best way he could without choking up, "My name...is.... Les Stroud...."

"What was that? I'm sorry; I didn't hear you the first time. Speak up, so your audience can hear you." said Bear sarcastically.

"My name is Les Stroud.,” he repeated aloud in a shameful tone of voice.

Bear smiled calmly at his answer, followed by the shake of his head, "My...my...my...

Mr.Surviorman, how are you going to get yourself out of this one?"

"Grrr....I'll tell you everything and I'm going to prove my innocence once and for all."

"Go on."

"I had nothing to do with you losing your job. I had absolutely no idea that you had a working camera crew that could help you when you're in danger or give you handouts when you're starving. You know that?" Les said.

"It's better to be safe than sorry, Les. Compared to you, I actually have backup for when I get myself into a rut. All you have are your cameras that you tote around! That's suicide and you know it!" Bear growled through his clenched teeth.

"It's not suicide!" Les fired back angrily. "It's reality! In the real world, a lone outdoorsman wouldn't have all that crap to help them out when they're in trouble! That's why we both have these survival shows-to inform people on how to get out alive, relying on nature and their own limitations!"

Bear was silent and allowed Les to continue on with his explanation. "It's not supposed to be a competition, you know. It's real life. You're a pretty decent man who knows his way around any situation; you're a survival expert like me."

Bear flinched at the compliment and confessed sorrowfully, "I'm not a survival expert and I'm not a decent man. I get my information from a veteran Army Ranger."

Truitt yelped out in surprise, "You're not? Hypocrite!"

"Be quiet!" Bear snapped, tightening his grip around Truitt's neck, "Or I'll blow your brains out! Les get to the point and quit pussyfooting around, for God's sake!"

"Okay then, you want to know who caused you to lose your job?!" Les asked defiantly.

"Yes!" Bear answered and braced himself for impact.

"It was your camera crew! They banded together and told the producers of your show about what you do and how YOU lied to your faithful viewers!"

Bear was stunned. "No, no, no. They didn't.... No. How could they? I thought...we were a team, friends even."

Les searched aimlessly for an answer, "Well.... that's what friends do. When you get yourself in too deep, they rescue you. I guess they couldn't stand the fact that you didn't actually stay where you were supposed to. Ahem...a fancy hotel near the park..."

"I do not stay in a hotel on my survival expeditions! They're lying!"

Lindsay, who was silent the whole time, finally spoke her piece sarcastically, "Why should we believe you?! You just admitted that you're not a survival expert!"

"Yeah, Bear. She's right! I do recall a certain time when you gotten yourself waist deep in quicksand one day, but you were sparkling clean the next. What's up with that?!" I seconded the notion.

Truitt managed to loosen himself from Bear's grip to utter out, "YOU.... FREAKIN' IDIOT!"

"What did I tell you, boy?!" Bear demanded, but was abruptly cut short after a newly courageous Truitt summoned the strength to kick Bear squarely in the knee as hard as he could muster. Bear let out a cry, cursing the whole time, crashing down to his knees in pain. Truitt harrowingly escaped certain death in a matter of seconds, causing the impressed crowd to cheer their encouragement. He then hid behind me and Lindsay, displaying his bravery as a man.

I looked down at the pitiful Bear, who was still writhing from the sharp pains pulsating throughout his knee and said, "It's over for you, Bear Gyrlls! Surrender your weapon now and nobody gets hurt."

Bear shook his head and proceeded to point the gun at Les and hissed, "No! If I'm going down...." Bear griped an itchy trigger finger on the hammer of his gun and growled, "Then, he is too."

I was skeptical to his promise and answered back, "Not gonna happen. Lindsay, take the gun from him.Use force if need be."

"Yes, ma'am!" Lindsay responded to my request.

"You're going to get a little girl to take a fully loaded gun away him? You'd better let me do it." suggested Les.

"No, she's knows what she's doin'," I said, facing him. "She used to be on the wrestling team at school. And I know what I'm doin', too. Nobody knows that I'm highly skilled at archery and marksmanship. I read his body language and kept quiet. It's common sense to humor a gunman, you know. That way, you could do what he wants and lives might be spared."

Les agreed with my point, "Hmmm...good point, kid."

Bear's tormented screams filled the air soon after. It appeared as if she had seized one of his hands, bent an index finger backward until the pain must have been as excruciating as the throbbing in his knee.

"Say uncle." Lindsay ordered.

Bear gave himself up, sweat pouring down his face from the struggle and gladly gave her the gun in exchange for the salvation of his index finger. Lindsay seemed pleased by her actions and laughed at Bear's suffering in high-pitched voice, "Ha..Ha..You should've seen him! He was actually crying!" She handed the gun to Les and said, "Do whatever you need to with this. I have no clue what I'd do." Les accepted the gun and looked at the agonized Bear, "Well...I guess I need to sit down and give the old heart-to-heart to him, if he doesn't mind."

"Good!" Lindsay exclaimed and stifled a yawn, "I'm gonna go back to bed."

Truitt stepped out from behind me and added, "I think I will too. Good day to you, sir."

Everyone, by decision, took their bow and retreated to the safety of the snug and comforting environment of their tents, except me. They knew there wasn't much to do in this situation now that it was over. It was all to up to Les now, whose conversation with Bear would make or break the further actions of the night. I guess it's like the old saying goes, "Only time would tell." I accepted that fact and kept my distance, deciding to do what I was going to earlier- sit comfortably on one of the logs surrounding our campfire, listen to my Ipod, and gaze up at the stars. I sat down and placed the tiny ear buds into my ears and selected my choice for the time well being: the Dave Matthews Band. Gazing up at the stars, I took in the cheerful, happy go lucky lyrics and upbeat tune and smiled to myself. Poor Bear. I thought to myself. I hope he'll be okay.

"Hey, are you up for a minute, kid?" A voice interrupted from behind me. It was Les.

"Yeah, sure." I answered. "Well...." Les began, "Before I go talk to Bear, I just wanted to say thank you for what did back there. I appreciate what your friends did too. If you didn't act quickly, me or that boy would've been goners for sure."

"You don't have to thank me, man. You talked your way out of a bad situation. That takes a lot of courage to stand up to an armed man like that."

He smiled warmly, although his countenance was worn and tired, "Awww...shucks, you're embarrassing me.... uh.. what's you're name?"

"Amanda. The blond guy's name was Truitt and my lady wrestler friend was Lindsay." I answered back.

"Hmm...Well, that's all I wanted to tell you, Amanda. I've gotta get going now. I have an angry Bear to calm down." Les said and calmly made his way back to his campsite.

"Bye, Survivorman!" I called out and waved. He put an index finger to his lips and yelled back, "Shhh...Don't say that too loud! I still have a show to do and it was here!"

I giggled to myself and left my thoughts to Bear, how he was doing, and how he was going to pull through this without physical or emotional injury.

So, that's how our story ends. I don't know if you'd believe us even though we gave you the real story about the events that night. All I know was that two reality show hosts went head to head with each other and the consequences nearly ended in tragedy, but through Les' power of speech and our quick thinking, it didn't end that way, and for that, I'm thankful.

*With apologies to the real-life Bear Gyrlls, who in fact, hosts his own survival show on the Discovery Channel, Man vs. Wild. The accusations presented in this story are true and are twofold: Bear supposedly spent the night in hotels and returned back to the wilderness the next day to continue filming. My other apology goes to Les Stroud, who, on the other hand, hosts his own man vs. nature show on both the Science and Discovery Channels entitled, Survivorman.