Summer of the Backyard Bear

The pool deck shimmered with heat waves as fifteen-year-old Jamar adjusted his whistle, feeling like a total fraud. He'd only gotten the lifeguard gig because his mom knew the community center director. Now here he was, supposedly responsible for actual human lives while still recovering from that time he'd passed out in health class during the CPR video.

"Yo Jamar, you good?" called Maya, the girl he'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade. She stood by the snack bar, holding something bright orange and alien-looking. "This papaya is actually fire."

Papaya. Of course Maya would be adventurous enough to try the exotic fruit their health-conscious facility manager had stocked. Jamar's stomach did that thing it always did when she talked to him — part excitement, part terror.

"Yeah, totally good," he managed, though his voice cracked like he was still twelve. Smooth.

That's when the cat appeared — a scraggly orange tabby that strolled onto the pool deck like it owned the place. It belonged to Ms. Henderson from apartment 4C, but it had serious boundary issues.

"Hey kitty!" yelled little Leo from the shallow end, splashing water.

The cat's eyes widened. It bolted — straight toward the **BEAR** spray can Jamar had carelessly left on the table after his morning run in the woods. He'd been paranoid about wildlife after seeing posters about bear sightings in the area, even though they were technically still in the suburbs.

"No, wait—" Jamar started.

But the cat knocked the bear spray onto the concrete. The safety clip was already loose (because Jamar was an idiot), and suddenly a cloud of pepper spray filled the air.

"OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT" someone screamed.

"EVERYBODY OUT OF THE POOL NOW" Jamar shouted, his voice cracking again but somehow louder. He was running toward the exit, gesturing wildly, trying to look authoritative while tears streamed down his face.

Chaos. Pure chaos. Kids were coughing, parents were yelling, Maya was doubled over laughing even though her eyes were watering.

"Bro," she gasped between laughs, "you really brought bear spray to a community pool in the suburbs?"

The cat sat safely on a nearby fence, looking entirely pleased with itself.

By the time the air cleared, Jamar was sure he'd be fired. But later, sitting alone by the now-quiet pool, Maya appeared with two plates of papaya chunks.

"You know," she said, sitting way too close, "that was actually kind of legendary."

"Legendary how? Like, legendary stupid?"

"No, just... memorable." She popped a piece of papaya in her mouth. "Nobody's gonna forget this summer."

Jamar looked at the papaya, at the empty pool, at the cat watching them from the fence. Maybe being memorable wasn't the worst thing.

"Yeah," he said, finally trying a piece. "Maybe you're right."