CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE HAIRY KIND

It was the second week of August and for many kids summer was winding down. Thirteen-year-old Stan's was no different and he really couldn't complain, he had had a wonderful summer for the most part. He had stayed in California with his family visiting his mother's side where they all lived for three weeks. He went to Disneyland, an Angels baseball game, San Diego, and of course the beach. Now back home he wanted to hang out and have fun with his friends. But that wasn't the option for the weekend unfortunately. No, this weekend was going to blow big time.

Sharon knocked on her son's door before stepping inside.

"Stanley, have you not packed yet?" she gasped.

Stan shrugged from behind the magazine he was reading.

"Your Uncle Jimbo is picking you up early in the morning, you have to be ready."

"But I don't want to go on a camping trip with him Mom!" he complained.

Sharon sighed; he had said this a lot since he found out Jimbo wanted to take him for the trip.

"I know exactly what it's going to be like. He's going to spend the whole time talking about how I'm a wuss and need to be a man and shit. He'll tell me Shelley's tougher than me and I am stupid to not be playing football this year as a freshman. Then teach me all these 'life skills' in case I get stuck in a forest. I've been in the Boy Scouts for six years! I know how to survive on my own. Then he'll probably end the trip with showing me how to skin a moose or something," Stan finished bitterly.

He didn't hate his Uncle Jimbo but he was your classic example of a manly man. He fought in Nam, hunted animals, and his TV show had turned into how to survive in the wilderness. No doubt he never really understood why his nephew was a sensitive boy and the biggest thrill he got with him was anything sports-related.

"Listen Stan, I know you don't want to go but it's only going to be for two nights. Surely it won't be as bad as getting sun-burned in San Diego or missing the whale watching boat just as it took off."

"I really would rather have the guys over for the weekend," Stan muttered.

Sharon didn't know what else to say so told him to talk it over with his father. Since it was his brother maybe Randy would have wiser words about the situation.

"He wants to take you out son, why does it have to be anything else? He wants to have a fun uncle and nephew bonding time before you start high school," Randy said as he worked on a model ship.

"Why can't he take Shelley? They have more in common anyway," Stan whined.

"For the reasons I just told you," Randy said, tongue between teeth as he glued together a tiny sail. "He already took her on a trip to that one boathouse his buddy has when she was going to high school."

"You know how he is though Dad, he doesn't care about me. Only how to tell me what I'm doing wrong. He sees me as the son he never had so has to treat me like that whenever I'm with him."

"Don't say that," Randy spoke. "He cares about you Stan; he wants the best for you just like everyone else."

In short, no one had his back. With much regret he began packing up the things needed for a two-day trip in the woods. He wasn't the biggest fan of camping anyway, he had spent too many times in his short life trapped somewhere and having to sleep in nature or anywhere else he didn't want to be, that the thought of huddled up during a freezing cold night in a forest was not very desirable. Night soon turned into morning and Stan woke to his alarm at 7 AM. Not that it was that early, but since it was the summer he had been waking up at least two hours later most days. He got himself dressed and took his things downstairs where his parents were, both drinking coffee.

"Want a cup?" Sharon asked.

"Yes, please." He really wished he hadn't discovered a love for coffee months ago but it really was amazing stuff. Since he was little he wondered why adults drank it so often; now he knew why. Jimbo showed up close to 7:30.

"Hey bud, ready for a weekend in the great outdoors?" he clamped an arm around Stan.

"Not really."

"That's great!" he obviously hadn't heard him. "Got everything? Hiking boots? We're sure to run into some sticky trails while we're out. Poncho? Gear for both rain and shine?"

Stan nodded to the floor.

"You do know the area well, right Jimbo?" Sharon had to ask.

"Don't worry Sharon, Stan will be fine as long as he's with me. It's just a campout, nothing to worry about."

"I just don't want you to be camping anywhere near wildlife or bears. You told me you once left food open at a campsite when you were young and saw a couple bears dig through it and"-

"That was twenty years ago, we'll be fine," Jimbo spoke.

Sharon sighed. "Okay then… have fun sweetie." She hugged Stan tightly before looking at his face. "Now I made sure to pack plenty of sun screen and bug spray. I packed you a little first aid kit- anything can happen. And I placed your inhaler in the front pocket of your backpack. Oh, and wear your sunglasses often, it's not good to be squinting in the sun. Don't forget to"-

"Sharon we're going on a camping adventure, time for roughing it in the great outdoors. Stan doesn't need you fussing over him, the man's about to start high school!" he patted Stan's back with a loud thump. "Let's get going bud."

Stan sighed but gave his mom a half hug and said softly, "See you Mom."

Their first stop before they hit the road was at Wendall's Burger for some breakfast before they stopped at a mini mart to pick up snacks and drinks. Stan tried not to look too bothered by the case of beer Uncle Jimbo picked up but he was. He hated dealing with drunk people and he really did not want to talk to his uncle while he was on his sixth beer.

"Bet you can't wait when you try your first beer huh Stanley?" Jimbo smiled as they put their grub in his truck.

"I think I can wait a while," Stan said honestly.

"You know I was fourteen when I had my first one. Your father was too, or maybe he was fifteen? Anyway, it was rather simple; don't know why we didn't do it before. Well when your dad had his first one, we were at our mother's house alone so he grabbed one of his dad's beers and tried it and liked it! A little too much actually! Haha!"

"Not surprised," Stan remarked.

"Hey, hey Stan, what do you say you try your first beer on our trip? Your mother will never know a thing."

Stan glared. "I would say no. Fuck that."

"Oh come on kid, live a little. Do you know how many of your peers already tried alcohol when they reached high school?"

And here came the first topic of annoyance.

"I don't care about everyone else. Plus I already tried alcohol, whiskey, when I was ten. It was awful but I began to rely on it to get through tough shit. Well it was just that, shit. You know what happened, how I was grounded for two months. Tried getting that 'high' from other stuff. It was all stupid," Stan crossed his arms.

"Perhaps. But beer is something different. It's a drink everyone needs to try. It's a favorite in the Marsh family so you're next up Stan!"

"I don't want to try beer yet Uncle Jimbo!" He just said how alcohol made things worse for him a few years ago. And seeing how people were when they drank put him off it even more. He had no desire to drink any time soon!

Uncle Jimbo soon began talking of what was ahead for their trip. They were going to a camping area called White Deer Trails and it was two hours away. It was going to be a real outdoors experience; they were going to be sleeping in a tent and had one fire pit at the camp site to cook on. There would be no fridge, drinks and such would be kept cool in ice chests. They were also in for some extreme hiking and climbing as well as fishing. It seemed like a lot for two days and hopefully it was fun, otherwise the weekend really would feel wasted.

Jimbo drove for a half hour or so without saying much. He was obviously looking for something to start a conversation with. He then glanced at his nephew.

"So uhh, heard from your dad you aren't trying out for football this year."

Stan was looking out the window. "Naw, didn't want to."

"Why not? You skipped out last year too. Surely you'd want to get back into it, you're good kid."

Stan shrugged. "I love football still of course but I want to try something new. I'm trying out for the freshman baseball team this year."

"Baseball?" Uncle Jimbo sounded surprised. "Well, ya that's a good sport too. But well… football's been your thing. Your sport for a while now Stan, I always saw you on the field in high school."

"There are four years of high school; I might do it some other year. But I don't think I'm going to, I want to stick to baseball."

Jimbo shook his head with a grin. "C'mon kid, I saw Marsh on the field for years, don't upset your dear uncle or your old man."

Stan frowned. "I don't want to be a stereotypical football jock. I enjoy playing baseball more, I don't feel as pressured."

Jimbo raised a brow. "Hm… well, if you really want to do that. I know you're real good on the mound too. I'm glad you're more into baseball now than when you were younger."

Stan made his first smile in the truck.

"Are you excited about high school?"

"I don't know. According to Shelley the seniors love picking on freshmen. It's probably not much different than Jr. High. Six teachers and shit. But I guess it's something to look forward to. A lot of milestones to reach. Learning to drive, getting my first 'job', getting my braces off whenever, girlfriends, dances… it could be something to look forward to. Still, school is school."

By 9:30 they had made it to their campsite. It was a rough climb up a dirt road but Jimbo parked his truck where their assigned campsite was. Stan stepped out and looked around. They were surrounded by trees of course, there was a large enough earthy path void of plants where the tent would be set up, and a small grill in the ground. He could see off in the distance trailers set up where other campers were obviously stationed. He kind of wished they had an RV of some sort to stay in but that would have been a little silly, it would only be for the weekend. Jimbo suddenly called over for his nephew to help unload the truck and set up the tent. It was around noon when they were all set up and Stan went to ask about lunch.

"We're going to do the good ol' fashioned camp thing," Jimbo smiled.

"Aww, we aren't going to kill a deer are we?" Stan slumped.

"No worried kiddo, I was talking about hotdogs roasting over an open fire."

Stan wondered what his uncle had planned for the day as he sat with a wiener on a stick over a lit fire moments later. Again, he wasn't all up for 'roughing it' for he did too much of that in his short life. Hopefully there was a lake or swimming hole somewhere he could sneak off to, that would be nice. Right after lunch Jimbo announced they were going to go fishing by the river stream about a mile from where they were. Stan groaned, he only went fishing once when he was seven but he did not enjoy it. He didn't catch anything and the tiny fish on his line he knew had been planted by his dad down below. Plus it was the whole killing an animal thing. They were only fish, and he liked seafood, but he didn't want to see the fish killed.

"Aren't there any other activities going on? Like a place to swim or river rafting?" Stan had to ask as Uncle Jimbo got out all that was needed from the truck.

"What? No, not on this trip son," Jimbo said, a little distracted. "Here you go, you get to use my old pole, just your size," he passed the pole along to his nephew.

Stan really wished his uncle consulted him first about the activities taking place on this camping adventure. It was his big 'send off into high school' trip, he should have had some input about it. And so they went off on the mile long walk to the river's edge to catch fish that would be used for tonight's dinner. Stan was sweating by the time they reached the spot and gratefully sank into the folding chair provided by his uncle. With mild interest he had Uncle Jimbo explain how to cast the bait on the lure and how to reel in his catch when he felt the tug on the pole. And so they sat there, waiting for something to happen. Stan kept shooting glances at Jimbo; how could anyone possibly enjoy this?

"Don't worry Stan, we're bound to catch some nice rainbow trout for dinner tonight," the man grinned.

"What if we don't?"

"We will kid."

"But what if we don't?" Stan emphasized.

Jimbo turned to steal a look from the boy. "You know you need to stop with that negative mind-set you have Stan. Your dad was the complete opposite and is to this day. Your sister was a bit more open-minded when we went on our trip years ago."

"Well I do have more to deal with I guess. There are a lot of assholes in my life."

Jimbo shook his head, smiling. "Know what I think? That Prozac you've been on is just a placebo. At least, you should start facing your problems like a man. Head-on you know?"

Stan felt his grip tighten on his fishing rod as he knew what was coming again.

"Of course you know all the horrors I saw in Nam," Jimbo started. "Maybe enlisting in the military will do you some good? You'll come out a lot stronger than you ever thought possible. Look at your dad's dad, he was a Vet too. I could teach you all you want to know."

Stan was glaring at his fishing rode. "I don't want to be in the military. I never have."

"I think it would do you some good. I mean, well…"

"Why? Because I'm a pussy?" Stan yelled. "Is your answer to everything guns and killing shit?"

Uncle Jimbo looked shocked.

"I'd much rather get a job and go to college than join any branch. Sorry to say," Stan said roughly.

"But it could do you some good. You'll get your hands on weapons and get to operate tanks or Air Force Carriers. Think of all the action and adventure. I know you like adventure kid," Jimbo gave Stan a look.

True, he did, but he also didn't want to put himself in a setting where he could be killed. He was feeling angry and uncomfortable at the same time. Jimbo began talking again of how he'd talk to Randy and see what he had to say. It was always what his dad had to say about something, never his mom when it came to Uncle Jimbo. Stan was big on letting both parties speak when it came to relationships but he supposed by now he was too used to this to not care. As long as Jimbo wanted something as did Randy, that's all that mattered.

"- but you won't know that until a few years. But who knows, you might change your mind," Jimbo was saying.

Stan growled. "I'm not joining the military- can we leave it at that and drop the fucking subject?" He suddenly felt a tug on his fishing pole and gripped it.

"Whoa! Looks like you caught something there Stanley!"

With Jimbo's help Stan was able to reel in a large rainbow trout. Jimbo was smiling as he looked it up and down. It was large enough for them to split for dinner. He packed the fish and gear up and they went back to their camp site. Once there Jimbo took Stan over and set the fish down on a cutting board.

"I'm going to show you how to properly cut and gut a fish, sport."

Stan felt his stomach churn as his uncle scaled the fish and began slicing it up. He covered his mouth.

"Oh god, that's sick…"

Jimbo frowned. "C'mon Stan, I know you like seafood. You had to have seen something done like this by now."

Stan was holding his stomach. "No. My parents always made sure to prepare fish when I wasn't there. And in restaurants, it arrives to you already cooked."

Jimbo refrained from saying anything about his nephew's weak stomach. He was always throwing up at everything when he was little but now when he was to turn fourteen this year, he expected him to grow out of it by now. Even though he was a smart and sporty kid, he was still the same kid he was when he was five. Afraid of the same stuff and the same problems kept pestering him. A mature kid yes, but some things… well, made him think different.

The two didn't talk much as the fish fried over the open fire. Stan glanced over as his uncle cracked open a can of beer. Stan meanwhile took a sip from his Sprite; he knew his uncle wanted him to try the alcohol but he wasn't going to allow him to pressure him into doing so. Stan swatted his hand here and there as bugs flew around. Defiantly not an amazing day but he expected it which was the sad thing. Nothing but Uncle Jimbo pointing out his 'flaws' and what he should and should not do. Telling him to 'man up' and not listening to a word he said.

The fish was ready and divided onto two plates. They ate in silence.

Jimbo sighed. "So, I take it not the best day of camping today?"

Stan shrugged a shoulder. "No. But I told you already I don't really like camping."

"You did? When the hell was this?"

Stan glared. "Weeks ago when you told me you wanted to take me here in the first place."

"Now why would I take you somewhere I knew you didn't want to go?" Jimbo truly looked shocked.

"Because you never listen to me that's why! No one ever does! I know I should just shrug it off and not give a fuck by now but c'mon, I want to be heard at least sometimes. I've been in trouble and trapped in the woods too many times in my life. I've suffered two serious asthma attacks while camping. Too much shit goes on out here period for me to ever want to go camping again as far as I'm concerned," Stan raged.

"But you have to like the outdoors kid, you're surrounded by wilderness and animals and other nature crap you free-spirited people like," Jimbo shouted.

"Now you're calling me a hippie. Anything else you want to add to the list? I know I've heard it before but go on, I have all night." Stan was on his feet now.

Jimbo stood too. "Stanley you are behaving like a little kid. Why can't you be grateful I want to take time from my life and spend some time with you before High School?"

"Because you keep trying to morph me into your version of a son!"

It was very quiet now; the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire.

"Either you start accepting me the way I am or you're going to quickly be out of my life once I graduate," Stan said softly but clearly.

"I'm just trying to pick up the slack from your father. He does a good job but let's your mother do too much when it comes to looking out for you. I don't have kids, of course I'm going to treat you and your sister like my own," Jimbo explained.

"You accepted she's scary as shit and strong as hell a decade ago. And don't blame my mom for anything; she has nothing to do with this."

Jimbo stared at Stan as he loomed over him. Stan shook his head.

"Screw this…" he ducked into the tent for a moment and grabbed his backpack that was inside.

"Where are you going?"

"To think," Stan said shortly before walking off. He could hear his uncle calling him back but he made sure to move quickly and soon enough he lost his voice. Honestly, he didn't know where he was going but that didn't matter right now. He just had to get away and clear his mind. Go off somewhere his uncle couldn't chase him down. He turned to the right where the trees climbed at a slope. He looked back, shrugged, and hopped onto the earth and walked the difficult angel nature had formed it. The land smoothed out soon enough and he found a large boulder to sit on. He knew it was pretty stupid to sit in the woods away from camp at night but he was too annoyed to not do it. The mind often makes the body do things without any part of it knowing.

A cold breeze tickled the hair peaking beneath Stan's beanie. He shivered and sat with his legs crossed. "Yeah, you're defiantly not going to be found here." Sigh. "Stupid really brain, why did you make me go here? I wanted to get away from my uncle, that's why…" he answered his own question. "You foresaw this whole thing. He hasn't changed, you just didn't really think about it much when you were younger. But this is getting ridiculous… you're going to be fourteen in a couple months, you don't need to put up with this anymore." He growled. "He's been treating me like his son since I can remember. I mean if he wanted one so bad he should have just adopted one! He is such a classic example of some 1950s era guy. He just can't accept how some things are in the 2000s. Just because he's been in the military, he goes hunting, he has a show about hunting, he likes guns, doesn't mean I have to."

The distant sound of an owl in the trees made the boy pause in his self-rant.

"Camping… what fun. I never had a good experience camping. I've suffered an asthma attack each time. I always get lost. Get attacked by bugs. Get sunburned. Dad always ruins the fun somehow. Mom always worries something bad's going to happen to me. Shelley's never any fun. Why couldn't we have just watched a movie at his house? Put something on the BBQ? Why this?" he slapped at his neck where he heard a buzzing.

The wind picked up slightly, the air a little colder and even though he felt stupid where he was, Stan made no move from the spot he sat at. He was stubborn and always had been, he knew he'd win this little sit-out; the adults usually caved in before he did. An hour past, then two. Stan had dozed off when suddenly he heard a very faint growl. Stan sat upright, knowing immediately it had to have been a bear. He froze in his fear, listening to see the direction it had come from. A minute later he heard it again due north. He hurriedly ran down the sloped side of the mountain down to smoother ground and was about to make a break in the opposite direction when he remembered camp was back north and he couldn't leave in the middle of nowhere with a bear threat to his uncle. Biting his lip, Stan made a frantic walk towards the sound of the growl. The growl was heard off and on and unfortunately, grew louder as the boy walked. Only when he heard a particularly loud snarl did he hear a human cry accompany it. Stan hid behind a large tree just as a large form was seen up ahead.

"Oh shit, oh shit," Stan whispered to himself. He dared to peak behind the tree and saw a black bear no closer than twenty feet. The tent and truck around it looked familiar…

"Help! Someone help! Oh god, help!" a man's voice cut the chilled air again.

Stan popped out in full view. "Uncle Jimbo?!"

The man appeared not to have heard him, he was too busy hanging onto the braches of a tree he had managed to climb, the bear snuffling around his belongings and occasionally looking up at the human. Doing some quick thinking, Stan grabbed hold of the closest branch and climbed up ten feet.

"Uncle Jimbo!" he called.

"Stan-Stanley? What the"-

The bear snarled again.

"Stan! Help! Help me! It's going to eat me! Oh god it's going to eat me!"

"Calm down! She looks more interested in the tent."

"It's going to kill me! It's going to kill me!" he kept moaning.

Stan knew it was up to him to get rid of the bear since his uncle was in too much of a state to do so himself. Since there wasn't any reception where they were Stan had to find another way to communicate instructions to the man without their phones. Thinking for a couple moments, Stan slowly made his way down his tree before slowly making his way to a tree nearer his uncle's. He was able to dive behind rocks and other trees for the bear not to notice before climbing up a tree six feet apart from where his uncle had managed to climb.

"Uncle Jimbo"-

"Stanley?" he gasped. "How-? Help me! It's going to eat me!"

"Shut up, she won't eat you; she just wants the fish we caught most likely. Listen, I'm going to distract the bear away from here. You have to do as I say in order for it to not come back, got it?"

"It's a bear! We're done for!"

"No we aren't!" Stan snapped. "Now listen: I'm going to attempt to get the leftover fish from the truck. Shh!" he voiced again when his uncle gasped. "I'm going to get the fish and bring it over to a spot a couple miles from here. She'll smell it and go after it. By that time I'll be able to come back here and we can leave."

"What if it doesn't work Stan?" Jimbo moaned.

"I'll improvise," Stan said with a raised brow. "What you need to do is not make yourself look like prey. Bears can climb trees and run faster than us, so don't try to do either if she spots you."

"But"-

"Hush! Make yourself look bigger than her. Don't make eye contact, back away slowly, appear the bigger person. Throw a shoe or something near her to distract her. Don't play dead."

"What? I thought"-

"I can tell she's a black bear, black bears seek out carrion, or dead meat. She sees you laying still it won't matter to her, it's something to gnaw on."

Jimbo gave a whimper.

Stan peered down where the bear was currently submerged in their tent, sniffing. The boy gave his uncle a fierce look.

"I'm going down."

"But Stan"-

But the thirteen-year-old was already going down. As quietly as he could, he circled around to the truck where the door was slightly ajar. He hopped in and grabbed the fish from the icebox, put it in his backpack, and ran off, not sparing a moment to look where the bear was or how his uncle was doing. Stan ran and ran to where he was sure he had just been an hour before, moping up a hill. Quickly, he took out the fish leftovers and put it on a large boulder.

Meanwhile, the black bear had grown bored with the torn tent and began sniffing at the tree where Jimbo was. He was still holding on with his life, afraid to move. The bear gave a grunt and placed her paws on the trunk. Jimbo knew he had to act fast if he didn't want the bear to catch up with him in the tree. He thought hard- what did he nephew tell him to do again? The bear sniffed at the tree loudly and without thinking, Jimbo took off his boot and threw with all he could. It worked- the bear saw and heard the boot hit another tree and went over to investigate it. This gave the man enough time to climb down but not without noise as well.

"Oh shit, oh god," he gulped as the bear faced him for a moment. Jimbo glared and huffed and puffed himself out to make himself look large. He faced the bear in this pose, quietly and slowly moving to his truck. A few more feet... at last! He slammed the door behind him and started the vehicle up. Just as he did this the bear took a whiff in the air and began running off in the direction Stan had gone. If Stan's plan was working, the bear could smell out the fish he managed to grab. "Hold on Stanley, I'm coming," Jimbo spoke and drove off onto a smooth path to find his nephew before the bear did. He spotted a light shining on the ground fifty feet ahead. He stopped the truck, his beams still on, and stuck his head out. "Stan? Is that you?" suddenly the small beam began to jiggle and get larger and the form of a boy was running, flashlight in hand. He hurried into the passenger's side when he reached the truck.

"I left the- the fish nearby and a couple snack- snacks I had in my backpack. We should go," Stan heaved.

By the evening of the following day, both Jimbo and Stan had been harbored with questions from rangers, park owners, news anchors, and fellow campers. All were amazed that the two survived an encounter with an adult bear without a scratch and after hearing Stan's side of the story, he was quickly being held a hero.

"Amazing! Thirteen-year-old boy saves uncle from bear attack! Perfect title for the front page!" exclaimed one man that worked for a local paper.

"If my uncle hadn't been able to distract the bear and get the truck to get me, I wouldn't be a hero," Stan tried explaining.

"Stan… you told me what to do if I had to face off the bear," Jimbo said in disbelief. "If it weren't for you I may have panicked too much for it to climb the tree and get me."

Stan shook his head. "You saved me too. I didn't know where camp was. I could have been lost in the woods with a bear roaming around for hours."

"You still told me what to do. You did the quick thinking and didn't lose your shit. Hell I've been in the army and have shot and killed all kinds of animals and this I freak about. You were great kid," he smiled and fist-bumped his shoulder.

Stan could only shrug and grin back in response.

Jimbo sighed. "Listen, if you weren't you… and didn't have the knowledge you do about animals… anything could have happened last night. If- if you want to do something with them for a living that doesn't involve hunting… you have my blessing kid."

Stan flashed his braces in a large smile this time. "Thanks, thanks a lot. That means a lot Uncle Jimbo."

Jimbo gave him a firm pat on his back. "What do you say going back home? Sure this will make the seven o'clock news if we make it in time."

Stan rolled his eyes. "I can already hear Mom crying about it and squeezing me when we get back. Shouldn't deprive her of it."

Laughing, Jimbo and Stan hopped back in the truck and started on the drive back to South Park.

I am so glad to have this complete finally. I thought it was a pretty important kind of thing to write as I feel Stan would only grow distant towards his uncle's lifestyle as he got older. I've been busy fixing up my Harry Potter stories, that's why there's been a lack of updates for SP stuff. I love both and want to give them equal amount of attention, so just bear with me. As usual, any ideas you may want me to write tell me and I will see what I can do.

Lots of love: Rose

February 28, 2014