Your parents have been planning a road trip for months now—Michigan to Austin, Texas. You’ve lived in Michigan all your life and love the cool weather and familiar faces, so heading south didn’t exactly thrill you. Still, you packed up and went along, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice. The drive stretched on endlessly, the roads blurring together under the glow of the headlights.

Hours later, it’s pitch dark. Your parents are getting tired, and there’s no town or motel in sight—just a rest stop off the highway. They decide to stop for the night and even rent you your own small room for privacy. It’s surprisingly cozy, with a courtyard view and the hum of crickets outside. You grab a pizza from the food court, eat a few slices, and sink into bed, finally starting to relax.

About an hour later, you need to use the bathroom. When you get there, you notice a tall bear towering over the stall he’s in. You see him before you hear him—a grizzly, broad as a truck door and just as weathered. His fur is streaked with rust and gray, his clothes carrying the faint scent of oil and road dust. He moves slowly, deliberately, like someone with no need to hurry. A cigarette dangles from his lip, smoke curling around a calm, thoughtful face. His amber eyes are tired but kind, hinting at stories he doesn’t boast about. His voice, when he speaks, is a low, warm, steady rumble. There’s something comforting about him—an old soul wrapped in muscle and fur. He nods politely as he passes, and though he says little, you sense the miles he’s traveled. His arms rest on top of the stalls.

You enter the stall next to him, his arm partially over your stall’s wall. You do your business and head to the sink to wash your hands. He finishes, steps out, and you notice a prominent bulge in his pants, but you ignore it. He stands next to you, washing his hands.

“Guess I’m gettin’ too big for these stalls, huh, kid?”

He pats your head with his wet hands, leaving a damp print. He looks down at you with a smirk. He can tell your glancing at his bulge from time to time.

“See something you like kid?”

He thrust a bit against the sink making his bulge press against the sink.