Bryn nodded ‘yes’ and paid the overnight fee.
“What’s that sound?” I spluttered, preparing supper at our picnic table.
“Wildlife,” grinned Bryn. “Need to toughen up if you want to get through the night.”
Ground fog crept into our creekside tent site. Other campers were hunkered down rows away.
“Didn’t that park guy look creepy to you?” I asked, watching bats flit across the orangey sunset.
Bryn laughed. “You say that about every stranger.”
“What did he mean by ‘character-building’?”
We sat around the glowing campfire, holding mugs of hot beverage. Last sparks spiralled into the frosty air. We slipped into the tent.
Sleep taunted with surreal images. At one point startling me to awaken and scream. Turning to snuggle against Bryn, I found he wasn’t there.
Daylight roused us from confinement. We proceeded to exit the park when the same attendant caught our attention.
“You folks were okay last night? Couple of families bolted out early. Frightened by a strange animal roaming about.”
“A bear?” Bryn asked. “I’m sure one was sniffing our tent. I got up to scare it off but couldn’t see it.”
We travelled a fair distance before stopping for gasoline. As we started driving away, a man at the station grabbed a bag by an outdoor garbage receptacle.
“Hey mister, didn’t you forget something?” he yelled, running after us.
In his hand, a Sasquatch head-cover.