Scott Lyndon rolled over and punched his pillow then buried his head in it. "Damned insomnia," he cursed under his breath. He shot a glance at the clock and sighed. Three-Thirty. Maybe a glass of milk would help. He climbed out of bed and strolled down the long hallway that extended the full length of the ranch-style log cabin to the kitchen. With a glass of milk and two cookies in hand, Scott sat down at the kitchen table and looked out the window at the full moon that was hanging in the night sky. He studied it for a few moments before sliding his gaze downward casually. He looked at the bulk of the yard that he could see through the window and thought it looked better in the moonlight than it did in the daytime. He took a bite of cookie then a sip of milk as his gaze continued to wander lazily. When he saw what looked like a dark shadow move in front of the bushes on the other side of the yard Scott frowned. What was that? He focused on the shadow until it disappeared behind a stand of trees. Moments later, it reappeared and moved further east. Scott lost track of it then found it again several yards east. He watched it closely until it stopped at the trash barrels. A bear. He wished the moon were brighter as he watched the animal move along the trash barrels. It sniffed the first one then the second one before stopping at the third. Scott looked at the three drums. The first two were mostly paper and nonedible waste and the third contained food scraps. He watched the bear rise up on its back paws and press down on the top of the lid, almost as if it were bouncing on it. He watched the animal bounce its front paws on the lid several times before the strong latches gave way. Scott watched the bear slide its claws under the rim of the lid and slide it over to the edge before it fell soundlessly to the dirt. “Well I’ll be damned,” he said in less than a whisper. Just then a shadowy flutter of white came along the bushes and stopped beside the bear. Scott squinted and tried to see in the lacklight. It looked and moved almost in ghost-like fashion but he was sure it was not a ghost. When the bear rose up on its hind legs again Scott saw it dig into the drum as the white image disappeared behind the steel barrel.
"Scott? What are you doing up?"
Scott shot a quick glance toward the doorway and recognized the faint shape of a shadow. "Shhh," he hushed. "Don't turn the light on. Come here," he whispered. He heard soft footfalls come up behind him.
"What?"
"Look out by the trash barrels," Scott whispered softly. "Just watch." He focused in on the shadows again and quickly found the bear.
"It looks like our bear friend."
"Keep watching." Moments later, the white flutter moved out from behind the barrel for a few moments before it disappeared again. "See that?"
"Yeah. What is that?"
"I don't know." Scott watched the bear dig into the drum again.
"The bear seems to be digging in the barrel then whatever it pulls out that white image takes."
"But what is that image?"
"Maybe a coyote?"
“Not likely.” Steve frowned into the darkness. “I sat here and watched that bear bounce its front paws up and down on the lid of that drum until it gave way. Then he slid the lid over until it fell off the barrel onto the ground. That’s when the white image appeared. A bear wouldn’t need to feed a coyote, especially out of a trash barrel.”
"There's one way to find out what it is."
"I know, but I don't want to turn on the yard light quite yet. It'd scare them away. I was hoping to find out what it was without the light."
"Not much chance of that with the haze in the air tonight."
"Yeah."
The two brothers watched the images for several more minutes before Scott stifled a yawn. "Well, no chance, I guess." He heard soft footfalls diminish and knew where his brother had went.
"Ready?"
"Yeah."
A soft click and the area surrounding the garbage drums was partially flooded with light from the light fixture that sat atop a thirty foot pole a few feet west of the steel drums. Instantly, the two images at the garbage can were illuminated by the light. Scott's eyes widened sharply as the white image came into visual focus. He caught the shocked expression on both images' faces for a split second before they disappeared into the underbrush. "Oh my God!" he said in a hoarse whisper and felt a chill cascade through his body. "Steve? Did you see that?"
Steve Lyndon blinked then blinked again, his wide, shocked gaze still locked on where the images had been. "Yeah," he said in a hoarse whisper. "It was a child."
The following morning, just after sunrise, Steve and Scott Lyndon went out to the garbage drums. They surveyed the open drum and the litter around it with deep frowns. "Look at this," Scott said as he pointed to the ground near where he had seen the child. An array of bones and fruit peelings were scattered around the small area. He picked up one of the peelings and examined it before handing it to his brother.
"Teeth marks," Steve Lyndon frowned at the distinct indentations in the peeling. He sighed then tossed the peeling in the open barrel. "What in the hell is a child doing living out here in the forest?"
Scott shook his head slowly as he picked up the litter and tossed it back in the drum. "I wonder," he said thoughtfully as he picked up another handful of peelings. "I wonder if that white thing I saw the other day could have been that child."
"Do you think so?"
"I don't know. That red nylon might have been part of some kind of camping gear at one time.” Scott looked at his brother. “Maybe a backpack or a jacket. It did have that kind of weight."
"You might be on to something there little brother. It also might explain how your rifle got hit."
"Protecting a friend?"
Steve nodded. "We saw the bear digging in the drum. It might have been digging out food and feeding the child with what it brought out."
The younger Lyndon looked off into the underbrush. "I've read about this kind of thing happening but it was always fiction. I never thought it possible in real life. We need to do something."
"Like?"
"I don't know.”
"Well you can’t exactly send it an invitation to supper," Steve drawled a smile. ‘If that child is that close with the bear then you can bet it's as wild as the bear is."
Scott walked over to where the pair had disappeared into the underbrush the previous night and examined the thickets with a frown. "Maybe that's exactly what we could do."
"You lost me."
Scott turned. "Invite it to supper."
"And just how do you expect to do that?"
"It comes down here foraging for food. So, we leave food for it. Not scraps like it's been eating, but real food."
Steve Lyndon nodded his approval. "Sounds good. It'd sure beat the hell out of what it has been eating."
That night, just before they went to bed, Scott made up a tray of food; two apples, two peeled oranges and a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches then took the tray out to the garbage drums. He sat the tray on top of the third drum then went to bed. The next morning, to his delight, all of the food was gone from the tray and the garbage drums were still locked.
"Looks like you're on to something Scott," Steve smiled at the empty tray his brother brought into the kitchen.
"Sure looks that way," the younger Lyndon said thoughtfully as he looked up at the distant hills.