4 bullet summary
Chapter 23
TO BE INVISIBLE he had to clear his mind. That was the secret. This discovery excited Cole and set him to thinking. How much of the world did people miss because they were
not calm enough, empty enough, to experience it?
When dawn finally arrived, he hiked to the opening of the bay instead of going to the pond. To see the
Spirit Bear, he needed to clear his mind and become invisible, not to the world but to himself.
The cool drizzle
soaked his hair, and soon droplets of water dripped off his forehead onto his cheeks. Then he breathed more deeply, feeling the rhythm of the world around him, an
endless rhythm where time disappeared. Far down the shoreline, where the rocks disappeared into the folding mist, a white object had appeared. At the place where things visible faded into not-being, there stood the Spirit Bear, as clear as if it were standing only feet away. The bear gazed patiently.
As Cole stared back with the same patience, all time, even the present, ceased to exist. He no
longer thought of himself as Cole Matthews, a juvenile delinquent from Minneapolis,
Minnesota. Instead he was part of the landscape, without a beginning or end. Rain dripped off
the rocks that lined the shore the same way it dripped from his forehead and flowed down
across his cheeks and lips. It blurred his vision, and he blinked.
The Spirit Bear disappeared.
Because Cole and the bear belonged to the same landscape now, Cole still felt the bear inside.

He closed his eyes, still remembering.
When Cole next opened his eyes, he had no idea how much time had passed. He crawled stiffly
to his feet and picked his way back along the shoreline toward camp.
Edwin had said that every day and every meal was to be savored, but tonight was extra special
in Cole’s mind. Today he had discovered how to be invisible, and now he was ready for the
dance of anger. Carefully he stoked the fire once more and sat down to wait for both the flames
and his feelings to come alive.
When the fire blazed high, Cole stood. Suddenly a frightening scream escaped his throat. As the sound melted away down the shoreline and into the trees, he began to dance. Spinning and
weaving, he crossed the clearing to a solitary tree near the cabin. The tree was a tall cedar with
only sparse scrub branches down low. Cole crouched before the solid trunk and doubled his
fists menacingly. The tree defied him. That was why he had attacked the Spirit Bear. Its proud
existence challenged him. Cole continued his dance. He spun and lunged at imaginary enemies in the dark, yelling at the rocks and the sky and at the water, “Get away! Don’t mess with me!”
Already his dance had lasted longer than any of his dances in the past, but Cole was far from
done. The whole world was challenging him, and the dance grew more violent. Cursing wildly,
he turned back to the flames and gave the burning chunks of wood a hard kick. Flames and hot
ashes exploded into the dark. He kicked again and again, and soon the camp was a bed of
glowing embers. Grunting with effort and rage, he pretended to throw his spear, then fell to the ground and clutched his hip and arm. He grimaced as he relived
the bear attack and the hatred he had once felt for the Spirit Bear. Twisting on the ground, he
relived the pain, the cold, and the loneliness. He continued his dance on the ground.
Still Cole continued. Standing, he walked to the shoreline and picked up a big rock. The rock
became his ancestor rock as he walked in circles. Then, with an exaggerated motion, he heaved the rock into the water. When waves from the splash reached shore, he called into the
darkness, “I’m sorry!” He screamed louder, “Please forgive me! I didn’t mean to hurt Peter!”
The only answer Cole heard was the breeze pushing through the treetops.
Tears came to Cole’s eyes and flowed down his cheeks. For several minutes, he let the tears
flow, but he knew the dance must continue. Moving back to the fire, he spun among the dying
embers on the ground with a graceful motion, gently kicking the larger coals back together. One
by one he returned the scattered chunks to the fire pit, each piece becoming a part of his dance
and a part of his healing. The mound of embers and charred wood glowed brighter until a single solitary flame licked up, followed soon by another. Now Cole had danced half the night, but still a defiant flicker of anger remained inside him. Hewanted to throw up that anger like bad food and be rid of it forever. He turned to face the tree he had threatened earlier. Again he lunged toward the tree, only this time he let his fists strike the trunk. With each lunge, he struck the tree harder, ignoring the pain. In the middle of the night, he sank to his knees at the base of the tall cedar, his body shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he whispered. At that moment, words he had never been able to speak before welled up inside him. “I forgive you,” he cried loudly. “I forgive you.”