Chapter Four

Beatrice:

Like a house cat pouncing on a mouse, something in orange and black stripes pounces on me and I felt like I just hit by my grandmother's minivan. The creature and I literally roll into the living room a couple of times and Tommy's paintball gun was knocked out of my hands. I stopped rolling into the living when the creature pinned me down to the floor and stood up on my hips.

I was really happy (because he was one of my favorite Disney characters when I was kid), confused (because I have no idea how he came from the world of animation and to here), and surprised (because…obviously…he knocked me down) when I got a better look of the creature and heard him say,

"Hello! I'm Tigger!"

In my head, I shouted TIGGER?! But out loud, I chuckled a little bit and said,

"You startled me!"

"Yeah, sure I did!" Tigger replied and laughed. "Everyone's scared of tiggers! And who are you?"

Your biggest fan, I guess. I thought.

"I'm Beatrice." I said.

"Oh, Beatrice. Hoo-hoo-hoo, sure…uh…what's a Beatrice?" Tigger asked me and pressed his nose against mine. Do you think that there was such thing as bad breath in the world of Winnie The Pooh? (I probably digressed, sorry.)

"You're standing on one." I replied.

"I am?" Tigger asked and then, he stepped off of me.

Then, he grabs my hand and shakes it.

"Glad to meet you. I'm Tigger, T-I-double-GUH-ER. That spells 'Tigger'." He said to me as I sat up and smiled.

I couldn't believe it! My favorite childhood character is standing in the middle of my family's living room! But how did he manage to leave the animated world and come in the world of reality? That's the big question.

But I didn't want to ask Tigger that. So, I decided to ask him,

"So, uh, what's the most wonderful thing about yourself?"

I know, y'all. It sounds kind of childish to ask that but I wanted to.

"Oh, boy, you asked for it!" Tigger exclaimed.

After a small chuckle, Tigger sings his signature song while dancing and bouncing around the living room.

"The wonderful thing about tiggers,

Is tiggers are wonderful things!"

He stops dancing and stretches his face a little and continues to sing,

"Their tops are made out of rubber (Tigger begins to bounce around me),

Their bottoms are made out of springs!"

Tigger grabs my wrist and he spins me around a little bit.

"They're bouncy, 'trouncy', 'flouncy', 'pouncy',

FUN, FUN, FUN, FUN, FUN!

But the most wonderful thing about tiggers is I'm the only one!

IIII'M THE ONLY ONE!"

Then, Tigger stops singing and growls.

The last part of Tigger's song always made me confused. In animation, being the only one sounds like a good thing but when you're in the world of reality, being the only one of your own kind sounds like a bad thing. You're considered endangered or something like that.

All of the sudden, Tigger jumps in surprise after seeing his reflection on a mirror that was hung in the living room.

"What a strange-looking creature." He exclaimed and started to examine himself, almost reminding me either of the myth of Narcissus and Echo or a male cardinal being territorial with everything (even its reflection.). "Look at those beady little eyes, and that 'purrposterous' chin…" Tigger walks up to the mirror and touches it. "…and those 'rickydickorous' striped pajamas."

I rolled my eyes and decided to play with Tigger's behavior.

"Looks like another tigger to me." I smirked.

Tigger frowned and replied, "Oh, no, it's not. I'M the ONLY tigger. Watch me scare the stripes off of this imposter."

He chuckles and spins back to his reflection. He growls at it and scares himself. Tigger leaps away from the mirror and hides under the couch, leaving his tail sticking out.

"Is-Is-Is…Is he gone?" Tigger asked me, nervously.

I stifle a giggle, rolled my eyes, and replied, "All except the tail."

Tigger tucks in his tail.

"All right, Tigger, he's gone." I said.

I receive no reply.

"Tigger?" I asked.

I turned on my headlamp and looked under the couch. Tigger was nowhere to be seen. I got back on my feet and scratched my head.

"Huh!" I scoffed. "Where did he go?"

Then, I was pinned down on the floor again by Tigger.

"Hello! I'm Tigger!" He said.

"I think you already said that." I replied.

Tigger walks off of me and rubs his stomach.

"Oh? Well, did I say that I was hungry?" He asked.

"Nnno." I said.

"Well then, I'll say it: I'm hungry."

Thanks to childhood times, I knew that Tigger doesn't like honey…at all. In fact, I'm not sure what Tigger likes to eat.

"Do you like black beans?" I asked.

I don't what made me ask Tigger if he liked black beans. I just blurted it out without thinking.

"BLACK BEANS?! OH, BOY! THAT'S WHAT TIGGERS LIKE BEST!" Tigger shouted loudly. He probably said that loud enough to wake up the neighborhood.

"Okaaay," I said. "I'll go ahead and make some black beans. Will you be a good tigger and wait?"

Tigger plops down on the couch and crosses his arms with a smile.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a can of black beans, a spoon, a bowl and a can opener. I poured the beans into the bowl and heated them up in the microwave. I waited and waited until I heard the humming of the microwave stopped.

After stirring the steaming hot beans, I grabbed a cheese grater and a small block of cheddar cheese. I rubbed the cheese on the grater and sprinkled a little bit of it on the beans. I stirred the beans a little bit and brought the bowl to the living room.

I gave Tigger the bowl and he helped himself to big scoops of black beans. After chewing on the beans, his face wrinkled like he sucked on seven WarHeads and yelled, "YUUUCK! TIGGERS DON'T LIKE BLACK BEANS!" He places the bowl of black beans on the floor and begins to wipe his mouth with his hands.

"Wait a minute; you said that you liked them!" I exclaimed.

"Ugh, that icky stuff is only fit for HEFFALUMPS AND WOOZLES!" Tigger replied.

HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TO THE BLACK BEAN DISHES! I thought. THEY'RE DELICIOUS!

"Don't you mean 'elephants' and 'weasels'?" I asked.

"That's what I said, heffalumps and woozles." Tigger replied.

I rolled my eyes and put the bowl of black beans on the kitchen counter.

"They don't do much…" Tigger continued and wiped his hands on his lap. "…and they like to steal beans."

"STEAL BEANS?!" I exclaimed.

"Yep!"

"Who would want to steal beans? I mean, you're saying it like they're valuable. I got news for you, Tigger. Gold is valuable but beans aren't! Why?! Because there are bean plants and there's an abundance of beans in the United States." Then, I started to think about how Tigger would react and I decided to let him believe in some childish creatures. "But if you're serious, then I'll keep a close eye on my beans. Don't want any heffalumps to steal my beans."

"Yeah, keep an eye on your beans!"

Tigger jumps off the couch and was getting to bounce away. Instead of bouncing away, Tigger exclaimed,

"Oh, before I go, I came here to give you a letter from the Toon Patrol!"

"The TOON PATROL?!" I exclaimed.

Tigger slips his hand in between the cushion of couch and pulls out a messy and wrinkled envelope. He hands me the letter and then, while singing his signature song, Tigger bounces to the front door (which was still open) and exits the house. He didn't even close the door behind him and I closed the door.

"I knew it!" I said. "I knew that Lexi's kidnapping had something to do with the Toon Patrol! But why would they leave me a letter?"

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. After cutting open the envelope, two familiar smells came out of it, cologne and strong but foul smelling cigarettes. Both of those smells lingered on the sheet of paper.

I carefully unfolded the letter and this is what the letter said:

We got your little sister!

…They think that Lexi's my little sister…but I continued to read.

If you ever want to see her again, then meet us in the middle of Gallagher Woods and talk about business.

You have forty-five minutes!

-Smarty, Greasy, Wheezy, Psycho, and Stupid, members of the Toon Patrol

Gallagher Woods?! That's considered the most haunted place in Houston! And I can't believe that the Toon Patrol is holding Lexi hostage and probably even kill her!

I can't handle this on my own! I need help from police.

I grabbed the phone and was about to dial 911 but I stopped when something else on the letter catches my attention.

PS: If you bring any friends or the police, then you won't see your sister again.

I put the phone back and I looked at the clock over the oven. It was nine fifteen.

I sighed and thought,

If I can't get anyone else involved, then I'm going to find Lexi by myself. I won't let the weasels harm a single hair on my little cousin. If I find a scratch on Lexi, then the Toon Patrol will have to deal with me and I'll be their worst nightmare.

I ran to my room and looked through my closet for a light coat or a hoodie that'll help me stay warm in the woods. I found one of my old over-sized school hoodies and put it on.

After fixing my hood, I ran back to the kitchen and grab a small sandwich bag. I ran to the guest bedroom and opened Lexi's suitcase. I found a small bottle of allergy ointment and put it in the sandwich bag.

I ran back to the kitchen again and took out a waterproof flashlight from one of the drawers. I stuffed it in my pocket and I found the headlamp still strapped on to my head.

Then, I ran back to my room and grabbed my old tennis racquet. Imitating my dad before leaving the house as a police officer, I looked at my reflection on my bedroom mirror, put on a serious look on my face, and saluted myself.

I walked to the front door, opened it, and walked a couple steps on the porch.

Hang in there, Lexi. I thought and turned on my head lamp. Help is on the way and I won't let the weasels hurt you.

I walked off the porch and I disappeared into the darkness in front of me.