Al lay down again but when Charlie didn’t leave, he sat up and said, “Now listen,” but at that moment his phone rang.

“Who the HECK,” said Al, going to his shelf where the phone lay and picking it up. “WHAT!” he roared, his phone-answering style apparently the same as his door-answering. “What? What?” he kept repeating. “Well, she did. No, you’re the one she wouldn’t leave in charge of a bunch of kids. That’s right. She didn’t accept your proposal either so I guess that makes us equal. Well, maybe she didn’t want to marry a garden gnome. What is that in reference to? Have you looked in the mirror lately? Oh yeah, well, guess what, I don’t have to prove it. I don’t have to prove anything. And where I live is my own business.” And he hung up.

Al sat muttering to himself and then, when he saw Charlie still standing there staring at him, her eyes huge, he said, “What have the lot of you gotten me into? Now that garden gnome of a lawyer wants to see proof I’m your guardian. He’s threatening to come over if I don’t go to see him. I’ve told him over the phone numerous times that I am, but oh no, he won’t take my word for it! And he keeps asking when I’m moving onto your property. Well, what a tangled web we weave!”

When Charlie still didn’t say anything, Al said, “What’s the matter, bear got your tongue?”

Before she thought Charlie blurted out, “Does he call you a waste troll because the bear eats your garbage?”

“A what? A waste troll? Who calls me a waste troll?”

“Mr. Pennypacker. That’s what Fiona said.”

“A waste troll?” said Al, clearly flummoxed. “When did he call me a waste troll? What the heck!”

“You called him a garden gnome,” Charlie pointed out. “My mother said you should never call people names.”

“Out. Go home! I’ve had all I can take for one day. I’m not running a day care center.”

But Charlie, instead of leaving, just sat down in the tiny booth with the kitchen table. “No,” she said quietly. “I’m scared.”

“I told you that bear doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“He’s still out there,” said Charlie.

“Unlikely,” said Al.

“No,” repeated Charlie.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Al. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

Charlie followed Al reluctantly out the door and down the broken trailer steps. She hung on to the hem of his T-shirt, which he chose to ignore, and together they walked to the street. Al stopped to pick up the mess the bear had left behind: cartons and Kleenex and cans strewn along the side of the road. He shoved it into his garbage can while Charlie picked up her abandoned bike and then they continued up the road to the children’s long driveway, with Charlie wheeling the bike because she was afraid to mount it and ride. Natasha had told her never to run from wild animals because they would think you were prey and chase you. Charlie had forgotten that the second she saw the bear but now she remembered and vowed not to make that mistake again. She was lucky she hadn’t excited what Natasha had called the prey drive of the wild beast. She wasn’t going to press her luck by riding her bike. The bear was most likely stalking her and Al, waiting his chance. Just hoping they would run or bike swiftly so he could chase them.