Not long ago, and in a world where these kinds of happenings were commonplace, lived a family of bears. Now, they might have looked identical to your average Earth Brown Bear, and indeed they had many of the same habits.
The things they did to pass the time. What they would eat and how much of it. The way they raised their cubs. They even hibernated during their world’s winter, kennelling in and cosying up together while the wind howled outside.
But these were not Earth bears, and there was one aspect in which they had the typical Brown Bear beat. These bears could talk. They could use words rather than snarls to convey anger, affection without needing to nuzzle soft head to soft head. And they could tell stories to one another. Cubs sprawled in heaps gazing up at the fire lit face of the storyteller. Bears of all ages gathering around in rapt silence. Bears otherwise engaged listening with only a slight tilt to furry ears to show their interest.
It is here that our story truly begins, as we weave our way through snow and slurry and sleet to the bright, warm cave where our family of bears lived.
There were three cubs, Dora who stood on two paws as she clutched at her mother and complained at the thought of bedtime; Jacky who used his sister’s distraction to try escaping through the door and who was thwarted by his mother’s thick leg; and Mollie, who sat quietly and unhappily on a heap of leaves, muttering that it wasn’t so cold outside yet.
They were attended to by their harried mother, who was well looking forward to the time she’d have to herself while her cubs were asleep. She had a lump of meat that she’d been able to keep hidden from them, and as such she was very keen to get them in bed so she could dig it up. It was the little things that kept her going, she thought, pushing her two rowdiest cubs towards their littlest sister and giving that little sister a look that promptly closed her mouth. “If you three go to sleep I’ll tell you a story.”
The cubs were soon ready and curled up together on the leaves, for their mother was a notoriously good storyteller and could weave fantastical illusions in the minds of her listeners.
Storytime with their mother was an experience they treasured every time she took them on an adventure. This time, with the winter sleep looming and this the last story of the season, they anticipated a new story that would transport their young minds to different worlds and times.
Seeing them sweetly waiting for her to begin softened her characteristically stern expression, and she began with warmth flowing from every word. “Did I ever tell you about why we hibernate and hide away from winter’s bite?”
“Long long ago, in a forest not far from this one, there lived a young bear who was so lazy and round that from a distance he resembled a near complete sphere. This bear’s name was Todd, and he loved summer as much as he hated winter.
“During summer Todd could be found in the various patches of sunlight formed as the sun moved across the sky, lying on his stomach in a way most unbecoming of bears as the heat from the sun soaked into the thick fur coating him. The other bears that lived in the same small village were used to stepping over him, though they suffered it with gritted teeth.
“Todd, they all said, had to be the laziest bear in the world, and they took no effort to say it away from his earshot.
“But if they thought Todd was lazy in the summer, winter was when Todd expanded on his laziness, emerging from his cave only to grab food before turning around and ambling straight back to bed.
“He wouldn’t help the other bears who worked so hard to collect the food he ate, and nor would he help his neighbours pad their caves with leaves like they did for everyone. The two times Todd actually moved his round body in some type of productive way during the year was when he collected leaves to pad his cave for winter, and when he threw them out in preparation for summer.
“Even then it was with minimum effort, discarded leaves left littering the ground around his cave as his neighbours’ unhappiness grew.
“One winter these neighbours decided they’d had enough. ‘All we do is work so we can make it through winter! But he does nothing, and grows fat on our labour and our food!’ Todd heard, of course, but he paid these statements little attention, having heard the message many times before. However, this time the sentiment rippled into the wider community in a way it never had before, waves of ill sentiment breaching on different villages’ shores.
“This time, they decided, something had to be done.”
Mother bear paused, looking in turn at each of her cubs’ fuzzy faces, each so precious and known to her she could tell who was who by touch alone.
Dora, as her oldest, was always in a hurry to grow up and become independent, but she sat in the same way she had since she was very young as she listened intently.
Jacky, the cub who couldn’t sit still, was rolling around on the floor, looking for all intents and purposes as if he paid no attention to his mother’s words. Mother bear knew differently, for he could recite every story she told back to her, familiar bones but with a vastly different body. He was a storyteller, like herself.
And little Mollie, small but with an attitude that showed in every roll of her eyes. Those dark eyes were fixed on her mother’s face as she forgot her attitude for the sake of the story, though shades of it appeared back in her gaze as the pause dragged on. Mother bear held onto it for the longest possible moment, peaking right between anticipation and annoyance.
And then she continued.
“They all agreed it, word passing snout to ear as for once the community took care in who heard their schemes. And once everyone, bar one lazy, round bear, had been told the plan, they waited for the perfect opportunity.
“Finally, it came one particularly chilly morning, just after Todd had eaten his fill of other bears’ food and rolled himself back into his cave for his midmorning nap. With not even a glance at one another, the bears moved the debris and detritus, the stones and sticks, dirt and dung alike that they’d been hiding round corners Todd wouldn’t ever waddle around, pushing it up to the entrance of his cave in such a great mound that it covered the entirety of the cave’s jagged opening, blocking out the patch of weak sunlight Todd had been lying in.
“He actually noticed the change in his environment, though when he sleepily blinked at the cave entrance and saw only blackness he took it instead for the dark of night, rolling over and returning to sleep. So it was much much later that Todd realised his predicament, pushing against a surprisingly solid barrier of night that on contact reminded him of the gritty soil the village lived from, hardened into a wall he couldn’t hope to breach.
“He tried to anyway. He pushed against it with his paws pressed flat on the wall, he threw his mass at what he thought were the weaker spots, he tried to chip at the surface with his claws.
“But all his efforts were in vain, and eventually he grew tired, walking back to his bed of leaves with his head hanging. ‘I’ll try again tomorrow’, he told himself, tucking himself into the pile and trying not to think about the reception he might encounter upon escaping his cave. He felt pain nip at his stomach, and he tried not to think about that either. It took a long time for him to fall asleep, and he dreamt of his neighbours releasing him and showing mercy.
“The neighbours had no such intention as they enjoyed life without Todd. They left him there, trapped in his cave, under no illusions that he was still alive in there.
“However, summer was on the horizon and the bears didn’t want any smells, if you know what I mean. It was time to take Todd out of his cave, dispose of his body, and wait for a new family to inhabit his home. They broke the wall down together, but just as they were about to enter, swirls of dust darkened as a figure, narrow and swaying, moved out of the cave and into the spring sunshine.
“All Todd asked, as he gazed around at the only thing he’d dreamed of through his days and nights of sleep, was, ‘Am I asleep? Am I asleep?’
“The end.”
Mother bear closed her mouth and the pictures in her young cubs’ mind faded away as the story finished. “Was he a ghost?”, Dora asked as she pulled her mother closer to her, nuzzling her face into her mother’s soft neck. “Or was he still alive?”.
“He was still alive, my child.” Dora groaned in horror at the neighbour’s failure.
“As unfortunate as that was”, mother bear continued. “He taught us two very important pieces of information that day as he staggered back into the world. First, that with enough fat built up we can sleep all through winter without needing food.
“Second, and the moral of the story; kill your enemies fast, kill your problems fast. Do you understand, children?” The cubs nodded, and cuddled together as she nudged leaves over them. “Night night, my babies. I shall see you in spring.”
