He staggered into the bar and then he told the most amazing story I could not stop listening how he survived a hungry polar bear not out on the tundra but right here in town.
Jackson was disheveled, torn snow pants, scratches on his face, his fleece parka had a big rip down the back. His hands were shaking as he tried to drink a brandy offered by one of the guys at the bar. All conversation stopped and heads turned to his direction.
“So, OK, I was a little swacked out, but the full moon helped me to find the way. I had just come back from working my trap line and was a little dizzy. Shouldn’t have had that shot at the Lazy Bear Lodge on an empty stomach. I was just rounding the corner of Munck Street when a huge thing lunged at me from the shadows. Damned if it wasn’t the biggest bear I had ever seen. He didn’t let out a growl but threw himself on me and I fell onto two garbage cans, thems what saved me I think. The rattle and clatter of the cans must have scared him off, but not before he took a couple of big swipes at me. Jeeze, look at my parka. It’s a mess and I haven’t the money to have it sewn up.”
With that Mrs. Running Deer spoke up and said, “I’ll fix it for ya, just happen to have my needle with me.”
Jackson took off his parka and laid it down on the table in front of Mrs. Running Deer. “Much obliged, Ma’am.”
Three of us grabbed our rifles and headed out to Munck Street to see if a bear was on the prowl. We found the two garbage cans tipped over and one of the lids was wired shut. A couple of piece of wire stuck out like a brush and there were bits of fabric on them. We didn’t see any bear prints but we did see Mrs. Andreason’s white sheets flapping in the wind. One of the sheets was down on the ground in a bundle. My buddies and I then determined what had really happened. Jackson did not meet a polar bear. He met up with some white sheets moving in the wind and he thought it was a bear coming at him, too much John Barleycorn in his system.