He froze, not wanting whatever it was to see him. His heart pounded so hard the sleeping bag fabric matched its rhythm. He moved his head in tiny increments, his bedhead swishing against the nylon. Some sort of creature was on the other side of the eastern window, scratching the glass with its paws. He could barely make out the face of the thing in the darkness.

Scritch scritch scritch.

The animal scratched harder.

He got the feeling it did so because it knew he saw it.

Chills trickled down his arms and legs. He strained into the darkness, trying his best to make out facial details. Slowly, a basic shape formed.

A raccoon, he thought with a sense of relief. Then the animal turned its face, revealing a short, flat snout.

Not a raccoon. Small bear? Has to be a bear cub. He stood from the bunk, thinking he might scare the animal away.

Then it barked.

“What the hell?”

Matt leaned towards the window, his eyes bulging. A furry face with round eyes stared back. The hair was mix of white and gray.

No, he thought. It can’t be. This isn’t funny, or amusing, or any of those things. Just no.

The creature barked again.

Scritch scritch scritch.

The animal’s claws screeched down the glass onto the logs. Matt’s eyes stung with fresh tears as he grabbed his headlamp and stretched it over his head. Then he ran for the big door, swinging it open as such a door could be swung. He ran to the east side of the shack near the big aspen, headlamp shining where the animal would’ve been.

Nothing there.

In his peripheral vision he saw a flash of white fur, low to the ground, sprinting down the two-track driveway towards Julip Road. He sprinted after it, the two-track dirt soft under his bare feet. His defined quads pumped under the boxers, his breath economical. The lamp beam bounced along with the movement of his head. And then he slipped on the soil where the driveway steepened and fell on his ass. His teeth rattled and for a moment the world faded. After several seconds of dis-combobulation, he recovered his bearings, scrambled to his feet and reached Julip Road. Panting and scraping came from the dark road, towards the direction of Lake Superior. Matt turned in that direction, throwing a beam of light. There, far down the road he saw a little white and gray dog sprinting and barking.

Freaking impossible, he thought. Can’t be him.

Of course it’s Elmo, the little voice said. What else looks like that, Matthew? Don’t you think it’s strange Elmo is all the way up here— especially since he’s dead?

Matt cradled his head and shut his eyes tight, as if that would make the little doggie disappear. When he opened his eyes, the little dog was gone.