Gabriel Bear

Gabriel Bear

Author: Meredith S. Dickey

Dedicated to Samuel, my panda bear, and Ricky, my purple Raccoon. I miss you Ricky.

Summary: A short story of a teddy bear named Gabriel Bear. Written in first person. “I knew then the only lucky ones would be us teddy bears. We would get to share our stories from our world.”

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I.

Did you know that teddy bear’s were introduced in the 1920’s? Or at least so I heard. I’ve never had a real mother or a real father, unless you count the machines and the toy maker who has sown my eyes and nose onto my face. While my siblings’ sit besides me wondering what is purpose in life was, I saw a young girl with a book in her hands.

“Papa,” she called out.

The young girl had silky raven hair that was done up in pigtails. Her brown eyes were hidden behind thin red frames. The girl was dress in a green dress that had white lines that made some sort of square patterns all around the dress. Her skin was a creamy white.

Her father looked up from his work. He was an aged man and was a bit chubby. He was wearing faded brown pants and a red t-shirt. He had small glasses on his plump face. He blinked a few times as he looked at his young daughter. Wiping his has, he gestured the girl to come closer.

I leaned closer on all fours to watch the scene before hand. The father and daughter pair made me feel this warm feeling in my chest. The father had told her a story of The Velveteen Rabbit¹, a story in which a maid bought a velveteen rabbit to replace an old lost toy of a little boy that she took care of. Yet, once the boy fell ill the family has to get rid of all of the boy’s toys including the rabbit. They were to have a bon fire, in which all the toys were to burn. Yet, the rabbit shed a real tear, and the magical make-believe fairy made the rabbit real. By the next spring the boy was better, and had wandered into the forest, were he saw the rabbit. But, he never knew it was his. Yet, the rabbit knew.

I laughed. There was no such thing as a magical fairy, make believe or not. But, somehow I fell over, with a plop. The father and daughter looked over and smiled. It was a small, gentle smile.

“Cathleen. Why don’t you take that teddy bear inside?” he asked.

“You sure papa?” the daughter asked.

The father nodded.

Although, I don’t remember what my siblings look like I do remember that they were all bears. Teddy bears. We were all made with love and tender care. Cathleen loved me, very much so. During the days, I would sit upon her bed and wait until she would come home from school. She would talk to me then and share her milk and cookies with me, even though I couldn’t eat any. At night, she would hold me tight until morning came. I was her safeguard, her hero. Nothing in the world would replace me, or so I thought.

My name is Gabriel Bear. And this is my story.

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II.

It had all started ten years later, after Cathleen had picked me up from the cold, dusty floor of her father’s workshop. She had grown into a woman before my very eyes, and I heard of tales from the other bears about this moment. Children grow up and leave they’re beloved stuff toys behind. I knew this was coming, and yet I didn’t want to believe it.

Her father had decided to clean up her room when she moved out to go to college. And, I wasn’t going to go with her. I felt sad, because in the first time in ten years I wouldn’t see her everyday. Except for the fact that she had stopped sharing all her secrets with me, but had shared them with someone else.

I felt a new emotion jealousy.

Cathleen had filled out quite nicely. Her long raven hair now fell down to her knees and she smiled quite sweetly. Gone were those red frames that were considered her glasses. She wore contacts nowadays. I smiled, even if albeit. I was there when she got her contacts. She was afraid of something new. He was there, and so was her father.

Besides I’ve gotten old anyway. My stitches on my left arm and back have gotten loose over the years. Stuffing was beginning to disappear. Plus, it had been too long since Cathleen’s father had stopped working in that workshop of his, since before the accident.

The accident.

It had been five years ago today. Cathleen had been holding onto me as she walked into the workshop. Papa had been taking apart the machine, which made the bears. Fantastic machine really. Yet, Cathleen had turn on the machine somehow, probably by my paw and it switched on. Her father’s clothing was then entangled in the belt conveyor, and he was being pulled towards the middle of the machine, where there were all these tiny gadgets.

We didn’t know what was going on at first, and Cathleen thought it was some kind of show. It wasn’t until we heard her father’s scream. That we realized something was terribly wrong.

“Cathleen!” he cried.

“Papa!” she dropped me onto the cold, hard ground and ran towards her father.

I heard her sob as she tried to pull her father off the conveyor belt. It didn’t work.

“Cathleen the lever! Pull the lever!” he cried.

The girl ran over to the levers. There was a green one, a red one and a blue one.

“Papa! Which lever?” she asked.

The girl tried was bursting with tears now as she waited for her father’s instructions, yet it never came. Instead what came was a painful cry from the machine. Cathleen, now terrified, ran out of the workshop and came back a few minutes later with the telephone. She yanked me up from the floor and cried into my fur.

That day our lives changed forever.

Her father had lost the use of his legs and had became paralyzed from the waist down�"

“Cathleen, what about Gab Bear?” he asked, bringing me out of my recollection of the past.

“I�"I am a big girl. I don’t need Gabriel.” She said as she crossed her arms.

I had lost an eye a few years prior and I could only see fuzzy pictures. But, I’ll never forget how Cathleen looked that day. She was a grown up, by my standards.

***

Her father brought me into the workshop late that night. He wheeled close to his worktable and sighed.

“That girl of mine always is heading into things head first.” He muttered, “Anyway, lets fix you up.”

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III.

For the next ten years, I laid forgotten in the home’s attic. Cathleen had been in the attic a few times after her father’s death last year. She had sold her father’s workshop and brought boxes of unused parts up into the attic. I stayed there wondering what she had down downstairs with the house.

She had obviously graduated from college since I could hear voices in the house. One voice intrigued me the most: that of a little boy. I smiled warmly as I listen to the family now living on the floor below. It made me fell warm, just like it did when I first saw Cathleen’s father read: The Velveteen Rabbit to her. It also brought back memories of days of old to me. I started to cry on the inside�"since I couldn’t really cry. Cathleen had a family. My best friend had grown up, and I knew I helped her through it.

***

One day, as I sat there on top of that box and listen to Jacob, Cathleen’s son I started to recall my life as it was. And, I had started hearing noises again. These noises were scratches and bites. It had sounded like they were gnawing at something. Looking around, as I only could I saw rats gnawing at me?

I felt scared.

Cathleen would never find me here. She would never find me in one piece. Days past and my stuffing the seams of my legs seemed long since gone. I had lost the feeling of my legs and the few rats that were left were now gnawing on my arms. I knew then all hope was lost for me.

Gabriel Bear AKA Gab Bear death: being eaten… alive? I pondered this for a moment. Surely, I was alive? Wasn’t I? Cathleen made me real. I was real to her. But, it wouldn’t matter in a few more days I would just be pieces on the floor. I sighed, and stared into the darkness of the room trying to forget what was happening to me.

Day 12-

I don’t know anymore. The rats’ gnawing has slowed down. The door opened today and little Jacob had come inside. He was a handsome boy, reddish brown hair with brown eyes. He looked over to me and “roared” at the sleeping rat waking it up. Laughing the boy did it again. Then the rat ran away.

He then picked me up�"or what was left of me, which was half of my teddy bear body. And, ran downstairs with my stuffing falling and making a path of where he’s been.

“Mama! Mama! Look what I’ve found!” the boy cried.

Cathleen looked over at her son and I, and smiled.

“That bear reminds me of your old grand pappy,” she mused.

She had taken me from her son and went into the attic. She looked around for a box and decided to fix me back up. I knew then and there she wouldn’t want to get rid of me. I saw the pain and suffering in her eyes. She had gone through worse trials, and I wasn’t there. I began to wonder why.

That night, despite her husband’s complaints she held onto me, like old times. She needed to, although it was one last time. She had died in her sleep the next day, because she had lost the battle to cancer. But, I had heard her speak softly that night as she laid me down next to Jacob:

“Take care of my son Gabriel Bear.”

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IV.

We stood there wearing black. Jacob’s father, and Jacob and I. I was wearing a small bear tuxedo. We listened to the priest read his sermon. Death comes way to easily for humans I mused. I looked at Jacob and frown albeit. He missed his mother. It had only been a week since Cathleen died, and I knew I was a shoulder to lean on.

I tried to remember Cathleen, how she was when she was growing up, the story of the stuff rabbit turned real. Still, I don’t think it could become true. But, Jacob had believed in these things. Maybe it’s because his mother did as well. Or maybe�"

“Come on sport, let’s get out of here.” His father put his hand in Jacob’s as he spoke.

“But, Mama’s�"“

“She’s all right.” The father said.

Jacob didn’t get him, but he held onto me. He probably never will never understand life and death-- Just like I. Even after thirty or so years, I never did understand it. But, I was only a teddy bear. And, I couldn’t scare anyone away. His father looked down at us and smiled.

I knew then the only lucky ones would be us: the teddy bears. We would get to share our stories from our world.

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A/N: A short story, which was fun to write. Was suppose to be based off of "Rawr", but I kind of think I failed. But whatever.

Reviews

[Felix]

I really like this! It's sad..but kinda hopeful. Melancholy at the end. Keep up the good work.