The Gobi Bear
Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Michelle Fasching, Fiction: Group 4
I
was born in winter. It seems fitting that my life will end at the same time of the year,
complete like a circle.
Mother had me and my sister when she was 20, my father having left her before I was
born. My sister was unlucky. She was born weak. In the unforgiving environment with little
to eat or drink, Mother was not able to provide for her, and was forced to leave her behind on our
journey throughout the desert. She was barely a year old. Sometimes I wonder what has become
of her, if a childless female had found her and raised her, or if she had starved to death in the
wilderness, victim to the elements, or if she had been chewed to bits by wild hyenas.
Mother and I traipsed throughout the desert for years, it being the only home she has known,
and the only home I have ever known too. We found shelter from the chill in the cold winter
months by sleeping in crevices and gaps between boulders or old trees. Other times, we travelled
by night, as the heat of the sun during the day would leave us dehydrated and overly warm.
Mother taught me to forage for food and water in the dry desert landscape. Plants were scarce
but Mother taught me to hunt and I never really ever starved. Once as we were digging for some
desert plant roots, a male had snuck up upon us and struck a blow to my leg. Not having noticed
him before, I made a loud cry in shock and pain and, which sent Mother running towards me
in defense. Mother had then proceeded to shove me behind her as she fought off this male. This
male was most probably twice her size, but she swiped at him and drove him away. I remember
watching in fear as this giant creature had attempted to get past her and towards me but in the
end, he slunk away with his tail between his legs, sporting a bleeding face and a limp. I remember
watching in awe at Mother’s fierce protectiveness, this warrior that had kept me safe, and vowed
to do the same to my own offspring.
As I matured and adulted, I left my mother’s side and travelled on my own for some months.
When June came, I found a male and mated. We were together for a few weeks in the summer, but
afterwards, he had left me and I was alone again, making my way through the desert on my own.
That winter, I felt myself swelling as I became full with child. As he was born, I remember
thinking how odd he looked, pink, toothless and blind. He was weak but he was mine, and I had
to take care of him. As he grew hair, opened his eyes and started growing teeth, I taught him to
feed and to hunt, my fearless warrior mother never leaving my mind.
During the winter when he was three, the worst happened. While we slept in our shelter from
the cold, some peculiar creatures came. As I caught their scent, my hackles rose in defense and
I immediately jumped up and pushed my cub behind me. As the creatures approached, I saw
that they were furless and had peculiar patches of colour on their skins that were almost falling
off their body. They were smaller than me, but they walked on only their hind legs, and held
something shiny, like sunlight reflecting off water. I growled at them in warning to keep away but
they continued towards us. Then, one of them held up the reflective stick and pointed it towards
me. I felt a sharp stinging sensation on my side and barked in surprise. Slowly, I felt myself
become hazy and everything became blurry. I saw their shadows constrain my cub and pick him
up, bringing him away. I feel myself slipping away as they took my child away.
Through the darkness, I only heard a few words.
“This one’s a Gobi Bear. They’re almost extinct. I’m sure we’ll get rich selling it.”
