The Bear Saga: Part III
The damn thing actually seemed to have a conscience when my mom stepped in to reprimand him.  I think I actually saw a tear or two slide down his furry cheek.  My mom's a tough cookie, though, and she didn't buy his histrionics.  She warned him that if she caught wind of one more episode of alcoholic, druggie, or suicidal behaviour, she'd send him packing.  He really seemed scared for the first time since I'd brought him home a mere 36 hours before.  Neither of us could have guessed what would come next.
The two youngsters who had tried to buy drugs off the new bear had fallen under his sway.  I suppose they thought it was "cool" that the new bear got more attention than they did.  I found them rooting through the liquor cabinet and divying up the goods between themselves.  I grabbed each by an ear and locked them up in my room, hoping strict punishment and lack of access to alcohol would help set them straight.
Contents of this page copyright 2005 Pamela C. Prioli.
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