Mitzi and I were silent for what I image was an hour. When meditating, time tends to slow down. I take heed of my surroundings. I hear every sound. I feel every vibration. I can vividly paint a picture of my surroundings and I do not even have to take one physical glance. I can feel the life sources of everything around me. Every stone, every plant, every flying insect; their auras wave outwards and wrap themselves around anything in their path like the ripples in the in the very pond I sat upon. This is the ultimate state of Zen; seeing without seeing.
I could imagine there being such a thing for artists. Mitzi is usually a talkative little monkey. And yet I've heard nothing from her since her first pencil stroke. I would imagine time slowing down for her; every minute an hour and every hour an eternity. Such concentration and devotion to the art of sketching, every little detail made visible on canvas. The mind is working and recreating a vivid image just so that others can see it as well. Art, in a way, is a window into the very soul and mind of the artist.
Perhaps I'm getting carried away…
Mitzi halted her sketching and began to cry. I was shocked to witness this so suddenly. She must have been thinking of something troubling while drawing. I find that absolutely amazing; drawing is her form of meditation and reflection. But I asked her what was troubling her.
"It's Cat," she wept. I suspected as much after listening to Duck's story. "What about him" I asked. "He's acting really s-strange and won't talk to me about what's b-bothering him!"
I thought maybe he must have alienated himself due to some sort of self inflicted guilt. But I wasn't sure. I asked Mitzi if she wanted to tell me about what has happened between them. I know what she and Cat did to Duck, something that does not sit well with me, but I can tell that Cat was hurting and it is affecting those around him. Of course I will keep that knowledge from her. After her whipping tears from her eyes she began to tell me her tale.
Well I'm sure you know what happened with our group of friends. Little Bear and that HUMAN girl got together and tore us apart. I always liked Little Bear and I thought, maybe he and I…well, it never happened and SHE saw to that. But I wanted Little Bear to be happy but more importantly I wanted us to all stick together. But that really didn't happen. But it was still okay. I still played with Duck, Owl, Cat, and Hen…that is until she died. After the incident I started spending more time with Cat. Mostly, because he was feeling sorry for himself when Hen died. He said he felt responsible but I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault. But he kept feeling sorrier for himself. He acquired some whiskey from Grandfather Bear. I never knew Grandfather Bear drank or even that he would offer alcohol to Cat! But he found comfort in it and I was right there with him. I never in my life thought that I would drink alcohol. I came from an abusive family and alcohol was always the cause of trouble or added more fuel to flames. That's why I ran away to Bear Country. But I only drank to keep Cat from feeling lonely. My pity for him grew into love over time. We were always together and he always looked after me just like I always looked after him. We shared each other's secrets and thoughts. I loved him and he loved me…well, at least I thought so, anyway. If not we're best friends, for sure. One day we went to market and with some saved up money I had, I bought him a camera. To my surprise he bought be an illustrator's kit with stuff he traded. He became a photographer and I became a professional illustrator. He thought being a photographer was a silly dream. I told him that he should pursue his dreams so that he could be happy. He told me that he didn't deserve happiness. It was the most saddening thing I ever heard him say. We earned enough money to buy this phonograph Cat had his eye on. We took it home to celebrate. Of course we got drunk, as well. One night we…
Mitzi looked up at me with a mixture of shame and concern in her eyes. I knew what was coming next. I assured her that she can tell me anything she wanted me to know with the guarantee that no one else will have to privilege of hearing it. As soon as I made the promise she continued.
Well, one night we got really drunk and Duck came over. I don't remember all the details because everything is a still a little fuzzy to me. I remembered one day me and Cat talked about Duck and how she longed for Cat. I remembered I asked him if he would have sex with Duck. He said "NO! Would you!?" I told him I would if he would. He sat there and laughed really loud. I thought we were just joking. But that night I was so drunk and couldn't control myself. I don't even remember what I did to her. But Cat,…I remember exactly what he did…
Anyway that night was our blood contract. We never spoke of it and we were closer than ever. But it was still awkward. He has been doing more than just drinking though. He started smoking this stuff out of a pipe. It's really strong and it puts him in a bit of a trance. I hated seeing him like that. He got me to do it too. In fact I remember I first tried it that night Duck came over. I just didn't want him to feel alone.
After a while I stopped smoking it and stopped getting drunk and did whatever I could to get him to stop as well. I think it worked because he eventually calmed down too. I was helping him! I was so proud of him and I admired how much progress he made. I adored him! One day I tried confessing my feelings to him but he didn't want me like that. I thought maybe it wasn't the right time. I respected his decisions and told him that I would follow him anywhere and that he shouldn't be afraid to confide in me. He just looked at me and turned away. We still traveled together sometimes but not as often as we used to.
As of late, he seemed pretty sober and in better spirits. I went to his house a few days ago and he wasn't home so I decided to make tea for when he came back. When he returned he was a bit surprised to see me. We sat at his table and drank the tea. I told him what I've been up to and he was silent. Every time I caught him looking at me he adverted his eyes. I asked him what was wrong and he told me nothing. But I kept badgering him and he yelled at me and screamed mean things at me and he just keeps…he j-just…and Idunno w-what to do and…
Mitzi started to weep again. I consoled her until she calmed down. I insisted that she cease explaining herself. I received the impression that there was nothing more to tell. After she whipped her tears away she apologized and asked if I would continue to sit and finish sketching me. I thought some more therapeutic meditation would do both of us some much needed good, more so she than I.
This was good for me to meditate on the situation. From what I'd gathered my friends have seen some good times and some bad. All are more or less satisfied with the way things turned out. If I had stayed I doubt that much would change. Little Bear and Emily were destined to be. Their characters ordained it so. I know firsthand Owl is doing just fine. Duck and Mitzi however have suffered at the doings of Cat and his personal transgressions. It all started with the death of Hen. It is typical for a close friend's problems to affect those around them. What has driven him this way? Perhaps I should pay him a visit.
When Mitzi finished we bided farewells and she went back to what I assume is where Cat resides. She told me where that was when I asked. I left my intentions open and vague. Perhaps it would be best if my meeting with Cat remained disclosed to others. I went to sleep shortly afterwards. I drifted off to the serenading of the pond and pond residents. The next morning after my breakfast I went to see if I could go speak with Cat. At my pace it would most likely take me all of my morning and a bit of my afternoon. I took a short break on a toadstool and decided to meditate for a bit. Before long I could hear a noise in the distance. It was a melody played on strings. It was Owl coming from a distance. He was playing a different stringed instrument than what I'm used to him playing. I waved to him as he approached.
"Hello, old friend!" he said back to me. It was somewhat relieving to see him. "So the rumors are true," he said. News travel quickly of an old friend returning back to Bear Country, or so it would seem. I asked him about his music and he explained "I was trying to get the hang of this guitar a friend gave to me." It was quite a different tune than of his lute. I have never heard or seen such an instrument before, not even in my travels. "It's beginning to become somewhat popular, especially in the States. I was told in about 10 or 20 years from now these will be THE instrument. However, I believe such things remain to be seen. But I digress…"
***And we end on that for now. I would really like to know how I'm doing with this story! It's a popular show and book but not a lot of people look up Little Bear on the internet! I really like this concept and I'm proud of how it's progressing. It's one of my last fan fictions ever so I'm gonna put my all into it. But yeah for anyone reading please let me know how I'm doing!