Bear With Me

[Gundham]

Six

Rebekah lay on her stomach in the sandbox, carefully putting the final touches on her sand sculpture. She held a thumb up to it, the way she’d seen artists do in cartoons. Why they did this, Rebekah didn’t know. Maybe they were giving themselves a thumbs-up for doing a good job. Good job, me.

It had taken her a long time, but her sand sculpture was completed. She’d had to dig down to get to the good stuff: the wet, cool sand that always lurked somewhere under the grainy, dry surface. She’d pulled up great fistfuls of it, plopped them together, and then began smoothing and scratching away until it came to resemble what she sought - a small bunny, huddled in a little ball, like the ones she’d seen in her nature magazines. She had patted it all over with her palms, to make it smooth and get the shape right, and even dragged a pointy twig over it to make fur lines. Some blades of straw made fine whiskers, and she’d plucked grass from the side of the play area to make a little nest for it.

“Mom!” she called, looking over her shoulder. Her mother was facing away, so Rebekah raised her voice. “Mom!”

Rebekah’s mom didn’t turn around, but she raised a hand with the pointer finger erect: a gesture Rebekah had dubbed the Not Now Finger. The other hand, Rebekah noticed, was cradling Mom’s phone to her temple. Another phone call. Or maybe the same phone call from when they got to the park, still going. It was hard to tell.

The finger had spoken. Not now. Rebekah sat down heavily on her butt in the sand and watched the back of her mom’s head. She heard a lot of words that she didn’t know the meanings of, like “principal balance” and “escrow.” Rebekah envisioned her school principal balancing on a balance beam, being hampered by a flock of crows who swooped around and around, hissing long strings of esses, like snakes. The S-crows didn’t sound nice at all. Maybe that was why her mother always got so grouchy when she was on the phone with them.

Rebekah hugged her knees, and looked up at the sky. There weren’t any S-crows up there, or any regular crows either. Just big fluffy white clouds, drifting along. She watched them and watched them. When she got bored, she forced herself to watch some more, her sneakers tapping an impatient little beat on the ground, kicking up little puffs of sand dust. She had read in a story book that you could find cats or castles in the clouds, if you looked hard enough. But all she saw were sheep. Lazy, blobby sheep, just grazing in a field of grass. Probably waiting for some kind of cloud shepherd to get off a boring phone call and herd them back to the barn.

After patiently staring at the boring sheep clouds and counting to seven hundred and six, Rebekah figured she’d waited long enough.

“Mommmm…”

The Not Now Finger jabbed in her direction, with a touch of anger this time. Her mother barked at the phone that the A-P-R for an A-R-M was being blown out of proportion.

Rebekah scowled. It was so frustrating! Mom was using her ears and her mouth to make the phone call. Rebekah didn’t want her mom’s mouth or ears, just her eyes. Just for a second. She just wanted her to see. She’d smile. Mom would be so proud of her. She would. If she just looked for a second.

She reached out, wanting to go over tug on her mom’s coat or her sleeve, but lost her nerve partway. The next step up from the Not Now Finger was the Angry Voice, and there was nothing scarier than the Angry Voice. Rebekah’s outstretched hand wilted, and withdrew.

She looked back at her sand sculpture. It didn’t look good as she remembered it. It just looked boring. It was boring and the playground was boring, and everything in this whole park was boring.

She looked around and spotted something that wasn’t boring. Over there in the trees, where the picnic area was. There was a small crowd of kids, a little older than her, clustered around a few picnic tables that had been pushed together. The area was awash with lots of bright colors. She walked a little bit closer. There were presents, and construction-paper crowns, and balloons that were shaped like all kinds of things, and streamers everywhere.

“Who wants cake?” called out a voice.

Rebekah watched, wide-eyed, as a brightly decorated cake was brought out and placed on the table in front of the beaming birthday boy.

On Rebekah’s birthday, she wasn’t allowed to have a party, because that was one of Mom’s days, and Mom didn’t want messes in the apartment. Her dad let her have a party the next week, a small one with five friends from her class. It was pretty fun, and she got a cool coloring book, but it wasn’t the same. Birthdays that weren’t on your birthday didn’t really count. Everybody knew that.

The birthday boy blew out a big candle shaped like a number seven, and his mom and dad gave him a big hug. The three of them looked happier than anyone Rebekah had ever seen. Her mom never hugged her like that. Her dad never smiled like that. There were so many people there, all of them were having so much fun.

The birthday boy pointed a finger at her, and said something to his mother. Oh no! Rebekah ducked behind a tree, and tried really hard to be a chameleon. Chameleons had camouflage. If she was a chameleon, they wouldn’t see her anymore.

“Hi, there!” said a voice.

Rebekah looked up, her eyes wide with fear. It was the mother. She held out a foam plate to Rebekah. It had a piece of cake on it, and a plastic fork.

The mother smiled at her. “Would you like a piece of cake? We have lots.”

It was a white, fluffy cake with blue icing. It looked more delicious than anything in the world. But Rebekah wasn’t supposed to have cake. Rebekah wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers. If she took the cake, she would be In Trouble.

She shook her head frantically. “N-No thank you!” Then she turned and ran away as fast as she could, until the people and the party, and the park itself were all far away.

Rebekah walked for a long time. Hours and hours, probably. She didn’t have any direction in mind, so she just kept going in the same direction. She patiently pressed the buttons and walked for the little white walking man to pop up before crossing the street, and always looked both ways. She walked past houses and apartment buildings, and some stores.

She was going to be in trouble when Mom found out. Rebekah had told a lie to the stranger, and she wasn’t supposed to tell lies. She did want the cake. But she wanted more than that. She wanted the mom and the dad, too.

Her room at Mom’s apartment had a lot of storybooks. Rebekah could read some of them, just barely. There was one called The Ugly Duckling, about a little duck that was different from all the other ducks. And the other ducks were mean and made the duckling feel bad because it wasn’t like them. And then one day, the duckling found out that it wasn’t a duck at all. It was a swan. It had wings and feathers and a tail and a beak, the same as all the other ducks. But it was something totally different.

Rebekah wondered sometimes if she was a swan. She had arms and legs and hair and a butt, just like other people. But maybe she was different. Maybe that’s why Mom yelled and Dad looked sad. Maybe that’s why other kids didn’t want to play with her.

She wondered what kind of animal she might be. Maybe she was a chameleon. Chameleons could look like anything. Maybe she was a chameleon that looked like Rebekah. But she didn’t have a tongue like a chameleon. Or did she? She tried to stick hers out, as far as it would go.

Rebekah was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the police car until it pulled up a few feet in front of her. Two officers got out, and Rebekah looked around, wondering if there was a bank robbery going on. Bank robberies, in her experience, were the primary reason why police left the police station.

“Hi there, kiddo,” said the officer.

Rebekah put her chameleon tongue back in her mouth, so as not to be rude, then warily replied, “Hello.”

The cop looked at her in a friendly way, but it was strange - almost too friendly. Like she was a rabbit he didn’t want to scare away. Don’t run away, his earnest eyes begged. I’m not bad, honest. “Are you lost?”

“No,” said Rebekah, nonplussed. She knew exactly where she was. She was on the sidewalk.

“Your name’s Bekah, right?”

Rebekah’s eyes narrowed. Her name wasn’t Bekah. It was Rebekah, with a “ruh.” But she wasn’t going to tell these guys that. She took a half step back. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“We’re not strangers,” said the officer, leaning forward to close the distance between them a bit. “We’re police officers. Your mom asked us to look for you.”

“Oh.” Rebekah’s skepticism evaporated. She had no problem accepting this. Her mother would definitely still in the park, talking on the phone about arms and appers. It was easy to imagine her cupping one hand over the mouthpiece for a half second to ask some strange policemen to go fetch her daughter because she was too busy. That seemed exactly like something Mom would do.

“We’re really glad we found you, Bekah. We’ll take you to see your mom now, okay? You can ride in the cop car with us! Won’t that be cool?”

“Okay,” Rebekah said flatly. She got into the car and sighed listlessly as the cop buckled her seat belt. The cop car was pretty cool, but Rebekah was not particularly enthused about the idea of being dropped off so she could watch her mom do more phone calls.

The other cop got on the radio, and said some numbers and words Rebekah didn’t understand. She wondered if he spoke the same code her mom did.

The first cop noted Rebekah's expression in the rearview mirror as they drove. “Hey, you know something? You’re really brave, Bekah. Did you know that? Most little girls would be pretty scared.”

“I guess,” Rebekah said, secretly feeling just a little bit proud. Take that, other girls.

“Here…” the cop said. “Pull over for a second. You like slushies, Bekah? I feel like a slushie. You like slushies, Gregg?”

“Sure!” said Rebekah. The cop who was Gregg just shrugged.

“What kind do you like, Bekah?”

“Cream soda, and blue.”

They pulled over, and the cop went into a 7/11. He came back with three small cups. He passed one to Gregg, and another to Rebekah. “They didn’t have blue, so it’s cream soda and grape, I hope that’s okay.” After Rebekah gratefully took the cup, the cop rummaged in his pocket. “Oh, and while I was in there, I found this little guy.”

The cop produced a small teddy bear, about eight inches tall. His fur was white, with a tan muzzle, stitched into a friendly grin. He had gleaming black eyes and a cute round nose. The bear was wearing red overalls with suspenders, and a black bow tie, giving him a slightly formal look.

The cop handed him over. “Here. He’s yours.”

“Really?” Rebekah took the teddy, wide-eyed. She hugged it.

“But I want you to promise me something, okay, Bekah?”

She nodded, still possessively clutching the bear.

“I want you to promise that you’ll take good care of him. That means you can’t get lost again, okay? If you go out wandering off like that, then Mister Bear won’t know where you are, and he’ll get lonely and he’ll miss you.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good girl. All right, now we’d better get you back to your mom, huh? She was real worried.”

Rebekah considered this. What was her mom worried about? The appers? Probably.

“Hey, mister cop?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thank you for my bear.”

“Hey, no problem.”

“And, um…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Could you... put the siren on?”

“Sure. Just for a few seconds.”

=-=-=-=-=-=

At night. Tucked in, with pajamas on and lights off. Mom and Dad had hugged her extra tight, for some reason. Rebekah was supposed to be asleep now, but she wasn’t asleep. She was like a bat, flapping around while everybody else was sleeping. She was staring at the ceiling, thinking about her bear. He needed a name. The cop had called him Mister Bear but he didn’t look like a Mister Bear. He looked like something else. She looked around her room. There was a Garfield book on the table. Rebekah liked Garfield because he was a cat, and he was funny. Garfield had a bear like hers, named Pookey. She liked that name. She asked the teddy bear about it, and he liked it too. But Rebekah didn’t want people to think she was Garfield. Garfield was fat. And he was a boy. So it would have to be like Pookey, but different.

“How could you let her wander off like that? What the hell were you doing?” Her dad’s voice, coming through the walls so loud that he might as well have been in the room. He wasn’t supposed to be here, but Mom had called him.

“There was a crisis!”

“What, someone couldn’t get the right siding on their mansion? Our daughter going missing is a crisis!”

They were both using their Angry Voices. They always used their Angry Voices, that’s why they got A Divorse. Rebekah’s heart started to thump really loudly. She crawled under the covers, and clamped her hands over the bear’s ears so he wouldn’t be scared by all the fighting. She’d promised the cop that she’d take care of… of… Puki. That’s what she’d call him. The same name, but with different letters that made the same sounds. The same but different. Just like her.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Eight

“DAD! DAADD!” Rebekah shrieked.

Sean Hayes whipped his head around to check the backseat. Rebekah never screamed like this.

Rebekah held up a gaping backpack. “Puki’s not in my bag! Mom forgot to pack him!”

“Oh, honey… I’m sorry. Can’t you just...”

“It’ll be two WEEKS, Dad! I can’t leave him by himself for two weeks! What if Mom throws him away?”

“C’mon, she wouldn’t do that.”

“But what if she has a showing and she puts him somewhere and forgets?!”

Sean was stymied there. Katherine absolutely would do that. He closed his eyes, gripping the steering wheel for strength. They were already halfway to the house. In rush hour traffic it’d be at least twenty minutes back to Katherine’s place, assuming she was even there, and then another forty to turn around and come home.

“P-Please, dad…” Rebekah blubbered, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. “I can’t leave him alone… I can’t…”

A frustrated sigh hissed through Sean’s teeth. He just wanted to go home. Work had been a hassle, and dealing with Katherine always wound him up like a couch spring, and there was dinner to cook, and a hundred other little things. But he had never seen Rebekah cry like this. Not ever. She never got upset about little things, and rarely got upset about the big ones. For some reason, this had rattled her.

“All right,” he said helplessly. “We’ll go back for Puki.”

It wound up being forty minutes just to get back to Katherine’s, and of course she wasn’t there, and the phone gave a busy signal the first fourteen times he tried to call her. Eventually she picked up, and told the doorman to let Sean and Rebekah in. She made a beeline for the bedroom, and found Puki lying right beside her pillow.

Rebekah fell asleep on the car ride home. Sean tilted the rearview to check on her, and the blissful smile on her face instantly made him forget the traffic and the missed phone calls and lateness. Moments like this were what being a father was all about, and they crowded out everything else.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Thirteen

"I think... I like a boy, Puki."

Puki's expression didn't change.

"Don't be jealous! I'm not gonna marry him or anything! Besides, you're a bear, and I'm a human! It was never gonna work out anyway! And he's so handsome! Maybe if we start dating, you'll get to meet him. And if he doesn't like you, then I'll dump him! How about that?"

Rebekah's hands nodded Puki's head up and down.

"Good! Then it's settled!"

=-=-=-=-=-=

Fifteen

Rebekah fiddled with the uniform. It didn’t feel right. Skirts weren’t her thing. She frowned in the mirror, and the strange cheerleader inside of it frowned back at her.

She turned back towards the bed. “What do you think?”

Puki regarded her with his round black eyes. They were less shiny nowadays - nearly a decade of adventuring in the side pocket of her backpack had worn off their gleam, but in Rebekah’s opinion it just made him look more thoughtful and introspective.

“Yeah… it’s not really me, is it? But Mom really wanted me to try out, and… I dunno.”

Puki looked at her blankly.

“I’ll just do it for the year, and then I’ll quit.”

=-=-=-=-=-=

Nine

Rebekah turned her book to show Puki. "When I grow up, I'm gonna be a lady zookeeper just like this picture. Or a veterinarian."

Puki exuded silent encouragement.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Sixteen

“It’s all yours,” said the man, dropping a pair of keys into Rebekah’s hands. He folded up his copy of the bill of sale, putting it into the envelope of cash she’d paid him.

She sat in the driver’s seat, and put her hands on the steering wheel. Her steering wheel. The steering wheel, which was in her car. Her car. Her ticket to anywhere she wanted to go, whenever she wanted to go there.

Her dad knocked politely on the window, and she rolled it down. “You know how to get home from here?”

She shook her head, brushing her ponytail against the headrest. “Nuh uh.”

“Well, then you can follow me. Stay close - but if you see my brake lights, that means stop. And don’t put the high beams on.”

“It’s not even dark yet, Dad.”

“Okay, but in general. If you do that you’ll blind the person in front of you.”

“Got it.”

As her dad walked back to his car, Rebekah unzipped the side pocket of her backpack and pulled Puki out. She sat him in the passenger seat. “All right, Puki. You’re the navigator.”

Puki gazed diffidently at the glove compartment, then slowly tipped over. Rebekah used the seat beat to strap him in.

“Safety first. Now, let’s get outta here!”

They pulled out of the parking lot, following Rebekah’s dad as he drove home, doing five miles below the speed limit. Rebekah had never felt so free. It was like she could feel the road underneath their tires as it joined up with other roads, other streets, then highways and freeways, snaking across the entire continent. This beat up little Honda could take her anywhere she wanted to go, from Alaska to Argentina. It was incredible.

They drove slowly into the late afternoon, like Han Solo and Chewbacca with the size differential reversed.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Seventeen

Rebekah got into the car, and buckled her seatbelt. She didn’t know how to feel about the evening’s events. It hadn’t been good, it hadn’t been bad, it hadn’t been romantic or painful or any of the things that the other cheerleaders said it might be like. She hadn’t particularly enjoyed it, but she hadn’t hated it either. It’d just… been. The human boy - not her boyfriend, not even a boy who was a friend, just a human boy in her grade who seemed fit for the purpose - had fallen asleep. It hadn’t seemed right to stick around after that, so she’d cleaned up and grabbed her clothing, and made her exit.

She looked over at Puki in the passenger seat. Bears had it a lot easier. They only had to worry about mating for eight weeks out of the year. And when mating season did come, they didn’t have to worry about bear fathers disapproving or bears mothers disturbingly approving and giving unsolicited advice for next time, or about what all the other bears at bear school might think if they heard about it. Bears never wondered why they couldn’t be like all of the other bears.

With slow, deliberate care, Rebekah gently turned Puki away to face the streetlights. It didn’t seem right to talk to him about this.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Eighteen

Rebekah pulled into the school parking lot. The buses for the winter trip were already there, and other students were getting loaded up.

"We're right on time. Excellent navigational skills as always, Puki!"

She nosed into a stall and put the car in park, then waved a gloved hand at the other cheerleaders. The heater in the beat-up Honda didn’t work super well, so she had to wear her mitts while she drove.

She hauled her stuff out of the backseat and looked, somewhat self-consciously, at the side pocket of her backpack. Where Puki used to ride, now there was hairspray and makeup and toiletries.

“Okay, buddy, I’m taking off now!” she said, reaching around to pat Puki on the head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few days. Keep an eye on the car for me, all right? If anybody tries to steal it, bite their arms off!”

Smiling cheerfully, Rebekah hefted her bags and ran off to join her friends.

Puki sat dutifully in place, maintaining vigil over his battered, rusted domain. The winter air cooled, and the sun rose, arced, and set. Crystals of frost formed on the windows, tracing intricate patterns along the grubby glass. Puki sat still in the dark and the cold, waiting patiently. Waiting for Rebekah to come home.