“No, Four Toes!” Kennedy yelled.

But the bear wasn’t listening. He was far more interested in pigging out. He punctured a hole in the side of Jen’s can of pop and sucked so hard on the aluminum that it imploded as he drank.

“I’ll share my Coke with you,” Kennedy offered.

Jen giggled. “Are we going to tell Vickie about this?”

Kennedy settled a solemn gaze on her. “I really, really love her lemon meringue pies, so I vote for lying by omission.” He glanced at the bear. “We each got a taste, at least. I swear, Four Toes eats because he’s lonely. We came close to getting a girlfriend for him. Slade’s permitted to keep black bears now. But the little female we almost got found a forever home in an observation sanctuary.”

Jen sat on the log with her back to the creek so she could watch Four Toes eat. Kennedy decided the basket would never pass Vickie’s inspection now. It was ruined, and he’d have to tell her about Four Toes confiscating their picnic treats. “I guess I could try to take it away from him,” he mused aloud.

“Mmm. I don’t think that’d be smart,” Jen observed. “He’s really into those brownies.”

“I was, too,” Kennedy grumped. Then he saw something strange in torn tinfoil and said, “What is that?”

Jen’s eyebrows lifted. “Does Vickie make jalapeño poppers sometimes?”

“Oh, shit!” Kennedy leaped over the log. “No, Four Toes, don’t eat those things! They’re not for bears.”

But Four Toes was nothing if not an eating machine. He scooped jalapeños from the destroyed aluminum foil, shoved them in his mouth, and chewed. Then he groaned. That was because Vickie made her poppers really pop. Four Toes got up, walked down to the creek, and plunged into the water, which was icy from snowmelt.

“How do I explain to a bear that cold water after spicy food only makes the burn worse?” Kennedy asked.

Jen shrugged. “It’s kind of like, how do you take a picnic basket away from a bear? I don’t think you can. Sugar helps with the burn, though.” She looked down at the partially eaten cinnamon roll still in her hand. “Do you think he’s full?”

“You’re joking, right? He could eat a whole garbage can full of cinnamon rolls and brownies.”

“I’ll try giving him this.”

Jen stood up. Kennedy intercepted her before she took a step. “Oh, no, you won’t. I’ll try giving it to him.” Kennedy took the cinnamon roll, walked down to the creek, and waded out almost as high as his boot tops. Four Toes, now a wet and shaggy mess, waddled through the water to reach Kennedy, his eyes fixed on the prize. Kennedy handed him the roll. And then Kennedy lost his footing on the slick rocks and fell in the stream. When he crawled out, he was as wet as the bear, and Jen was laughing so hard she had to cross her legs.

“What is so funny?” Kennedy asked. “This is my only pressed shirt! I wanted to look nice for your parents.”