Of Bears
By Arthur Challenger Oemke
Intro: To be certain this is an original work by Arthur Challenger Oemke, created during the first month of November in the year two thousand and six. The aim of this work is the enlightenment of its writer, not the reader and it is for him that it has been written. The story which follows is one which he alone wrote, but others may read. Facts are irrelevant, truths are unimportant. This is a creative work for creativities sake.

Chapter One: One
The thing to know, is, that there is but a single rule to follow for every occasion. The rule of One. One is self serving, not to say selfish, but for one purpose all things are done or left undone. A man is only one, a woman only one. Everything starts with One. To be certain more may follow- but only from the life of one spark, many fires have since burned. One perspective governs the formation of others and one is all you get. One chance, one life, one gift- talent- drive- inspiration; can bring to ruin or exaltation everything or just a single thing. One.

Chapter Two: A longer One
Derek Scott a loving son and wild force lived or rather abode in his deceased mother’s single room assisted living home. Sunshine Estates, an elderly community where all members where; dead, waiting for it, or too senile to care about the ending of their times in this world. Derek Scott’s mother had died of a brain tumor weeks ago. She was old when it first appeared. There was hope at first; there is always hope- even in the darkness of the nuclear age scientists hoped their minds would be used to improve the quality of life for others not yet born. A hope still remains that things will improve, things will get better. The Scott family hoped for a long while that Momma Scott would live and continue to suffer the ever improving modern age. When stricken Momma Scott clung to her faith, a security blanket to hide her head under, but she believed whole heartedly that what ever happened would do so, and couldn’t have happened any other way; whether by the will of God or as happenstance and causality. Her suffering was miserable; none of her children being able to bear their mother as a decaying burden with only her eternal belief in the lord would suffer her company. So Derek, being the good son, not to say he was the most responsible of people or the most wealthy – youngest or oldest of her children, took it upon himself to take care in the best way he saw room for. She was calmly foaming at the mouth as they each singed the papers for her to be kept in the Sunshine Estates, where nurses and orderlies were only too happy to practice caretaking on the elderly or deathly sick.
Sunshine Estates, a very purgatory for the sick and old, was comfortable and expensive. Derek drew out of the family savings to house her there as he knew it would only be a matter of time before her eventual passing on. There were doormen ready to assist with wheelchairs and boarding the senior trip bus, nurses for the diapering and injections, nutrition and bedding switches. Of course entertainment was not sparred for these lost causes, each room had complete high-speed internet access, a television with digital cable and a radio in the bathroom and on identical imitation oak nightstands. The dials on everything were senior-sized. Large enough to operate with arthritic hands and alphanumerics bold enough to be read by fading eyesight. The beds were real beds, twin sized plastic mattresses which could be hosed down every Friday while the residents were having a walk, or a sit, or laying unconscious in tubs that were too hot for them. Not for cruelty were these baths hot, but most of the residents liked to avoid confrontation with the nice young people that took care of them. Derek had no job, no house, home. He had his mother and he loved her ever so much. A loveseat with a fold out couch was brought into his mother’s cell for him to lie down in and spend the night when his mother was fearful of his absence. As Derek had no other place to go, or anywhere he had to be, he simply lived in the same room and shared it with his ailing mother. Momma Scott was ripe with time; bending the scales at 79 she had outlived smokers and addicts of the best sort only to succumb to a cancerous growth deep within her skull. Chemo was tried, and she was responding well. Her hair clung to everything in that room and was dust-busted by Derek before she could notice. Momma Scott’s daughters took her out wig shopping even. To her daughters she would smile and nod while the pain burnt her eyes and throbbed like a molten cast covered her head. Derek would smile at her all the time, even when she confided in him her great pain of living. Although not a god fearing man himself, Derek would pray with his mother and call the priest when she felt most horrific.
When the task of finding care for his mother was first given Derek was unhappy, he was a young man going nowhere in his late twenties and scowled at having to put his uneventful life on hold for sake of his only mother.
“Good afternoon,” the gate guard said, as the bar was raised for his entrance into the visitor lot.
“Express afternoon I’m having, and I wish the same to you, sir.” Replied Mr. Derek Scott as he pulled his mother’s Buick past the levitating bar. Driving a boat was new to him and it took a great track and a half of Golden Oldies before his ship was at port. He exited and brushed ashes from over worn black pants. He straightened his tie in a side mirror and then goose-stepped to the front desk crew.

Chapter Three: Slip’n’Slide
If Derek had no where to be, then why was he away from his sick mom? Where was he coming back from and dressed so nice? Derek as he would have it, styled himself in the same outfit every day since he graduated from Diamond Community College, black dress shoes, pants, white arrow shirt, black tie with a silver tie clip and a black sport coat. He had multiple copies of the singular set of clothes. This young man had just come back from visiting his new friend Eliza. He was infatuated with Eliza. He went everyday to her home and stayed with her and talked with her for three four hours, mostly telling her of his dying mother and of goings on in the news and his favorite new tune to whistle. Sometimes she would laugh at the stories he told, he fancied it was laughter he heard others would say a more of a low grumble. Other times she would sleep and wink groggily at him. Eliza would sometimes nuzzle against Derek as he snuck her marshmallows and he droned about the orderlies being incompetent or nice. She was only 130 pounds before she met Derek but since then had gained a satisfactory fifteen thanks to the sugary goodies he brought to her. When it rained he’d bring a bucket umbrella for Eliza did not mind the water her white fur repelled it magnificently for a short while, which this season is all it would rain for. She would grin, baring her fearsome maw of incisors made for tearing flesh off deer or moose and her spatula of a tongue would lick the raindrops from her dripping leathery black nose. She would sometimes stand on her hind legs and plop back on her bottom and sit as Derek rambled on about this gruesome detail or that. When she lost interest she took to preening the dark patch on her chest with sharp nonretractable claws. When Derek bored her or she became to wet, tired or hungry for more than sugar wads she ambled lethargically to the rear of her encampment to disappear in her cave. Derek loved this bear, Eliza, the single female white-black bear which lived a life well enough for a bear in captivity at the Chicago Zoo. And Eliza loved Derek, as much as one can love the other- truer love was never found amongst men or animals.
So Derek would return from the Zoo after a good chat with Eliza and visit his mother and take a nap while she zoned out, getting her head invaded by waves of light and sound from the electronic luxury in her room. But upon this particular Thursday afternoon things were amiss. Derek stepped mousily into the room and his mother lay on the bed. Covered in two blankets, a fleece and a rosary, she looked snug as a bug. Derek smiled and said to her, clicking off the Television, “Eliza sends her best.” He received no reply, strange thought he. Usually his mother was glad to hear any news from Eliza, believing her youngest son living had finally met a nice girl who pleased her picky offspring. Perhaps she is asleep still, or in too great of pain for pleasantries at the moment, he thought still. So he folded out the loveseat and snuggled down, still dressed, for an afternoon nap.
He awoke some hours later, with sand in his eyes he made for the shower, his contacts clung to his cornea as he rubbed the blur out of his eyes and got the hot water running. One thing he did like about Sunshine Estates and living with his mother was the free food, hot water and parking. Dressing himself again in a different set of the same clothes he moussed his black hair and shaved his face with a piece of glass. Derek’s father, Poppa Scott, had shown Derek this feat of dexterity growing up and Derek continued to shave with broken glass; as it was cheap and he penniless. Clean shaven Derek stepped back into the living room, his mother lay on the bed, covered by her blankets, her eyes closed and drool caked on her hunter green down pillow. He whistled Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon as he tied his shoes. Momma Scott had always been a fan of Mr. Sinatra’s hits, for this reason it was that Derek had learnt to whistle them, and whistle them greatly. He flipped on the television for some prime time reality shoes and beer commercials while he oiled his hair in the main mirror. As he splashed on the lavender scented oil he always felt cunning or debonair like a high-roller or international man of mystery. He buzzed the nurse and called for food to be brought up for he and his mother, everything was included in the single bill paid by him with the funds secured from the family trust. The nurse entered shyly pushing the cart with lime green plates and stainless steel flatware. Generous portions of mash and beans coated the plates and applesauce filled the bowls. Mash and Beans! How glorious this day had been and was turning into an even greater night. The nurse grinned at him with yellow teeth and turned out the door once Derek relieved her of the steering and pushing duties. He trollyed up to his mother’s bedside and began to engage her in dinner conversation. “Good evening Momma. It’s mash and beans tonight, your favorite. There is no doubt in my mind that this will please you very much so as you haven’t had any in quite sometimes. You’ll have to forgive me for being late in coming this morning as Eliza and I lost track of time.” He broke apart her medication and began to stir it into the mash. Momma Scott loathed swallowing pills if she could avoid it and so Derek stirred them into everything for her. “Eliza is looking a little homesick these days, I fear she might try to break up with me if I don’t start listening more to her or find some new way to enchant her. I was thinking of bringing in some balloons to make balloon animals for her. I always get a good laugh out of her when I show her pictars of me ballooning over New Mexico. Remember that trip momma? We saw all that desolate country from so up high it didn’t seam to be such a rotten place to live from way up there among the birds.” He scooped a glob of medicated mash onto a spoon and stuffed it into his mothers gaping maw. Eyes still shut, her mouth failed to close and suck the sludge from the spoon. Derek scolded her, “You must eat, even if you are not hungry. Look I’ll eat some.” He took some of his own mash and licked it from the spoon like sticky peanut butter. “Not so bad, its garlic today Momma.” He moved her spoon back into her cavernous yap. Her mouth didn’t close. Her eyes didn’t twitch under their lids. She lay motionless covered with her fleece and her rosary clutched in her left hand. Derek let out a sound like a decrepit after consuming too many Nacho Bel Grandés. This moan echoed throughout Sunshine Estates. The birds ceased chirping, the fountain chocked in its regular rhythm and for a time no wheel chairs dared squeak Derek immediately vomited the contents of his stomach until it wagged like a deflated water bottle, warm, empty and limp with the faint stench of mildew. His barf soaked the bed clothes of his newly discovered to be dead mother. Somewhere flies were buzzing in a bedpan. The tears started to flow, stinging his freshly shaven cheeks and mingling with the throw-up around his lips, he wailed for service; for orderlies, nurses, doctors, priests, cigarettes and booze.
A great deluge of persons immediately broke the sanctuary of the door and swarmed around his mother and he. Derek was petrified; he blacked out face first into Momma Scott’s dead lap and his regurgitation. The next moment to be remembered by Derek was the burial of Momma Scott. She was interred next to Poppa Scott and there they lay, happily in the ever after. The priest blessed some topsoil and tossed it on her modern sarcophagus. Psalms were read, hands were held. Derek was blamed for the passing on of his mother by all his sour faced siblings. There was no lack of tears, but for Derek they only stung his eyes, never could they change the minds of his sisters and brothers, to convince them that it wasn’t his fault. A stormy funeral arrangement of purple lilacs and red roses accompanied Momma Scott six feet under. Friends of his mother’s regarded him with the utmost disdain and scowled at him as he shambled off to his vessel. The Buick carried him to Sunshine Estates with disrespectful speed. As he pulled into the driveway he could see Momma Scott’s bed being sprayed with hot water in the maintenance yard. The wash crew laid it out to dry and took turns running and then scooting across the top of the wet plastic pad like a diseased slip’n’slide.

Chapter Four: Thrive
Eliza was at the summit of the log pile as she watched the yellow sun peeked his face over the parking ramp to the east. The bear would often wait for the sunrise; sometimes the man Derek would watch it with her as he rambled on about second chances and the health of his mother. Such a son Eliza would have loved to have. She was how ever a bear in captivity with pheromones that pleased none of the males; which was all well and good, for the other bears had brains of mash and beans, soulless creatures whose ideas revolved around only their artificial den. Who had the red ball? How long until feeding time? I need new straw. Thoughts like these, recycled and spit out everyday by their yawns and groans. The sun rose higher and higher it warmed her back and set her white fur aglow like luminescent cotton balls. Eliza wondered where Derek could be, she knew that his mother was dead, but it had been three days since. Eliza knew of the deceased be cause she could read, oh yes Eliza was a smart bear. Newspapers usually found their way into the bear exhibit, crumpled up and thrown to inspire the bears to growl. Everyone loves to see bears growl, especially if the danger involved is kept separated by a 8 foot stone and electric fencing. Eliza pawed smooth the papers and read them in the back of the cave, she dared not let the others find out she could read. The keepers suspected she merely lay on them for comfort although they fought vigorously for them and threw them out often. The papers spoke ingloriously of her boyfriend with bold letters claiming that Son’s Vomit Slays Mother, while in finer print declaring him a sick child which fed his mother drugs so as she died. Others told how she had been dead before he knew not to feed her. There were no quotes from Derek, but his siblings and the orderlies said much to them for a chance of fame, each person striving to be quoted had to divine more elaborate stories for the media to convey. Eliza knew, no matter how much these papers claimed that he as a bum son trying to do good, that Derek would never have intentionally done any of this. The official report indicated that Momma Scott had died sometime during the night, although Derek’s position was incredible, it was not incriminating. Eliza hopped he would show his face soon, she wanted to let him know he was not alone and that she would help him through hard times.
Derek still had much of his life left and as persons do, he must live the rest of it. Grow fat and wise and become an immortal legend that once thrived among his peoples. Life is not just for sitting around in; life is for loving, and learning. Make mistakes, one way or the other smarter one does become. And as love is a most precious commodity all that lives should have a chance to enjoy its delights. By being born the world was changed by each person, even infants have a great impact on the lives of others. Nothing is ever the same, every single person changes the world everyday and gradually it will not resemble what people remember. Streams of thoughts, ideas, memories all this collective junk is not to be squandered by loafing around unintentionally and ruining what chances there are to do great things. To discover and to create is to live.
Derek still had much life left to live, however great stress infected him and turned to great depression. He remained at Sunshine Estates, still sleeping on the love-seat; the same room in which he puked and his mother died in. The bills were paid for months to come, Derek had been optimistic, and so the administrator saw no reason to not let him stay, what business of his was it that Derek liked living in the room where he fed his unbreathing mother? The money was in the bank, no harm could come of it now. My mother is gone from this world. What will I do? Where to go? He knew he could stay in Sunshine Estates for the remaining the months but he wished to not be a bother, he wished to be gone.  Poof!  Wished he wasn’t alive. He turned on the idiot box and decided to peep in on the goings on in the world. He had no idea they were running articles on his misadventures and specialty programs on network television. The News was aglow with vaccines that didn’t work and politicians finding more ways to be dirty. Above the customary murmur of hot stories one, about the Chicago Zoo, in particular caught his interest.
Apparently the female white black bear, that is to say, Albino black bear, had fallen ill. A cornerstone of the bear exhibit for five years Eliza the bear , for no apparent reason had fallen ill. Top large animal veterinarians were being flown in; even the once famous Peter Ostrum was going to be arriving in less than five hours from his job in upstate New York where he worked mostly with cows. Derek was afeared. He preferred his days to be uneventful and non-confrontational. He had plenty of opportunities to change the world but mostly he liked to keep it as it was in this steady comfort zone it had achieved of late. Several disconcerting thoughts rushed into Derek’s head, he had many options now. Leaving Sunshine Estates and beginning life as a bear fugitive or going to the grocery store for marshmallows to try and abate Eliza’s sickness. HE could also, he knew, just take a train far away to Detroit for a week or two until this all blew over and no longer affected hi. He knew however that running never solved any problem, merely masked over the problem and made resolution not an issue any longer. The problem is always there, but your feelings for the solving it can fade with time. Derek needed to liberate Eliza. She remained undiagnosed but Derek knew what she needed. Eliza was homesick or cramped, sick of the zoo; where she alone felt she could be something more, something great. This is one reason Derek fell in love with her, she had a dream, a goal a special aspiration but if left to her own devices she may not succeed or at least not in a timely manner. Derek had few dreams which needed such a catalyst so he wished to put forth every effort to help her succeed.
When a dream is strong enough it will carry others with it, a maelstrom of hope hurricane-ing through life. Dreams going against this established current are torn asunder, while others, in the same motion add to the momentum of peerless expectation. Then the likelihood of success grows immensely as the dream gains presence enough to become reality.
Derek hadn’t a clue that this was the nature of the world; he knew it felt good to help a friend. Nature doesn’t make a point of being obviously obtrusive and as such Derek was a willing, oblivious participant in a great movement that would eventually result in the resurrection of one of humanity’s best.

Chapter Five: Slapdash Swordbash
Young master Scott then established a plan of attack. For him spiritual cleansing began first with fine maintenance of self. Derek locked the door to his dead mother’s room. Then he went into the bathroom locking that door as well. Derek’s mind was thing of wondrous beauty; there were rituals, long forsaken by modern man, which he had somehow recovered from the collective memory of all. Thought by most to be obsessive compulsive urges, the actions which Derek took were actually modern parallels of the things ancient warriors did before they fought a great foe, or before pagan priests were ready to perform magicks in the name of their old earth gods. He disrobed himself, stripping down to bare skin. He put his ring and wristwatch on the countertop next to the sink. He sat on the toilet and began clipping his nails. This was a very relaxing and time consuming thing which always made Derek feel ready to tackle the next challenge that life brought his way. As he hacked away at his big toes, the nails there being extremely haggard, he thought of the best way to get into the zoo; the black fibers from his socks were lodged deep in the crannies of these nails and must be removed. He used tweezers and nail scissors until all his digits were bald to the nail rind, a slightly painful feeling but it refreshed him nonetheless. He then turned out the bathroom light and stuffed a towel under the door to eliminate the last photons emanating from the other room, there, where he once slept, the light was still glowing hot white and incandescent. He lit a couple of tea candles which his mother had liked, even though Derek preferred sandalwood or lavender scent, vanilla was pleasing to anyone. In memory of Momma Scott, who at that moment was pushing up daisies, he said a short prayer, asking whatever god she believed in to aide as might be possible. Derek divined that he should somehow camp out in the zoo and wait for nightfall. He washed his feet and hands to get rid of the extra nail bits before lowering the bench in the Sunshine Estate’s standard senior shower. He let the shower buzz lowly with the sound of the hottest water he could stand; it edged on comfortable but was on the less used side of that gradient. He ran scalding hot water in the sink and washed his face with exfoliating soap. His dipped his badger hair shave brush into the hot water and let it soak in the basin as he stared at himself in the mirror; the candles flickered as steam poured out of the shower. Derek would need rope and a stabbing weapon if things came to blows. He knew were to find one. He lathered his face with his True Gentleman Lavender Essence cream and then took a wine glass and broke it off on the sink. The act of shaving was calming and brought great satisfaction to Derek, his mastery of using broken glass added to the pride of a smooth shave. Carefully the glass cut the scruff from his cheeks; he carefully maintained disciplined side burns at a length which bordered on gentleman and scoundrel. The wine glass bit as he moved to get the hairs on his chiny-chin-chin. He applied more lather to the area under his nose and proceeded to smile like a doughnut and carefully cut the annoying mouse fur which tried to grow there. Often timed Derek thought of just putting some cream on there and letting a cat lick it off. He rinsed his face some. Lathering up his chin he craned his neck and carefully dragged the sharpness off the glass up wards on his throat. Against the grain was tricky business but Derek shaved, unafraid. After he was satisfactorily hairless he washed his face again and cleaned up his mess, luckily no blood had been spilt. He then eased himself into the hot shower, the hot mists threatened to drown the candles in the bathroom but Young Master Scott took no notice. He sat down on the bench and let the heat and wet begin their relaxing miracle. There is nothing spectacular about being soapy in the shower, but it must be noted that Derek liked to use a loofah; it created a rich lather and was not as clumsy as a washcloth. Lever 2000 was his weapon of choice, and he enjoyed it once more on this fine bathing occasion. He used shampoo and made certain to repeat after rinsing. Then he smothered his scalp with conditioner and grabbed for something from the countertop. His arm spidered around the thick curtain and captured a bandana. Derek used this to blindfold himself while in the shower not to mention the fact that water knots were especially nice feeling on the occipital bun. Fully clean, Derek sat on the handicapped bench and soaked in the heat. His mind was blank; he was otherworldly and cosmically awesome. Nothing mattered in the dark and the soothing warm of the beating shower. He was One. And One was all there is ever going to be. When you face this thought you gain a spiritual courage, a luck only spoken of in legends and myths, a will to do anything completely. The acknowledgement of the universal truth of One is an event which brings about unique change in the world. Derek could not see, nothingness and eye purple spots was all he would see if he used his eyes. In the mind though, nothing was there and so as his mind touched the threads of creation, he saw himself and everything combine in the fantastic reverse of the big bang. One for all and all for One. Most precise. His actions were in front of him now, following through was going to be insignificant. Water filled his ears. He could not hear the bombs in foreign countries, nor the whispers of the dying in other rooms, nor the squeak of pepperoni in greedy child fingers, nothing was heard. Derek dozed in the shower for minutes or hours. Time is unimportant during a good shower. However he felt ready to move, to reclaim and rescue. Motivated by otherworldly forces and a divine spark of the rule of One Derek unbound his eyes and stopped the water. He exited the curtain and if he could be seen by the faint glow of a single candle, the grimace would be a mixture of inspiration and heroism. He extinguished that last little flame in the bathroom and grasped the doorknob tightly. He knew al that followed would be an excellent adventure and peerless to none.
Twisting the knob the lock sprung loose and he pulled. Light flooded the bathroom while a fog crept into the room of beds and television. Derek had an outfit, a special uniform not yet donned by himself personally. It had been his fathers and it was of great quality. A three button black sport coat with unpleated black dress pants. He would wear the combat boots of a Vietnam fighter too, black, hidden by dress pants they appeared to be normal work shoes, concealing their varied uses. He buttoned up a white linen shirt over a starchy a-tee. He had a belt, a black one, but more important than the fake leather was the buckle a gaudy thing of precious metal, silver and brass, an enraged bear, growling ferociously on all fours at an unseen foe. A black full Windsor knot pulled the outfit together and was held to the white collared shirt with a silver tie clip, a gift from four Christmases past, from his once living mother.  He took his sport coat in hand and filled it with necessaries; in went keys, cards, toothpicks, matches, phone, and old Chinese fortunes.
He returned to the bathroom and oiled his hair, smoothing it back with his hands, so soft and black that Snow White herself would have been jealous. As it dried it half-assedly parted in a natural way. Derek was not yet old enough to have developed a scary widow’s peak, he was glad of that. Young Master Scott was finished grooming himself and was ready for love.
The first item of business was to arm himself for the illegal acts he was about to commit. Only illegal in the sense that the normal law was going to be broken. Bear knapping was not against Derek’s code of rules, but others with more clout would sing different songs. With the recent discovery of the truth that is One, Derek had a thought of where he might attain a noiseless blade to aide him in the liberation of Eliza, there was a man, old wise, and thoroughly insane. While Derek abode in the streets of Chicago he had stumbled upon this sage of the inane, he was a Japanese scientist who was ostracized do to his research of alchemy, a superstition and reviled practice among modern man. He experimented to no avail, trying to find a way to turn lead into gold. He went by the name Kagaku-sensei, that is to say Science Master. With this mans help Derek was certain to find what he was looking for, and Kagaku-sensei would surely help to free Eliza, as he understood mother nature and he respected greatly her first creatures. Finding Science Master, a homeless man constantly changing locations in a vast metropolis, was only problem. Derek signed on to the Pentium II, Sunshine Estate’s standard senior computer, hoping to search the interweb for information regarding Kagaku-sensei. The news feed on Derek’s browser yielded very satisfying results. According to the police reports, on the day which Derek regurgitated on his dead mother, a senile man in corn-sack robs was arrested for disturbing the peace, “At 12:40 pm a vagrant began to preach and incite the aggressions of a mob outside Macy’s Department store.” Derek read on to discover that apparently Kagaku-sensei had been explaining that the world at large was under a great threat and its peoples had forgotten the fundamental rules of conduct. Prophesizing the return of a man that would bring order to the evil chaos that reigned in the modern world sounded like a terrorist threat from some religious extremist and so all in the are began to get nervous, some came to watch the old man blabber and soon found themselves cheering him on. As the speech continued, they grew more fervent in this follow. Suddenly three police cruisers pulled up and began to calmly disperse the mob. This angered them and as Kagaku-sensei took notice, the mob suddenly burst into an audacious rage and began to assault the officers. The police took immediate crowd control action. Tear gas, rubber bullets, stink grenades and riot shields were employed. The old man had been arrested but was released on bail. He had failed to report back for his arraignment and the police had not found him since that day.
Derek could not directly contact Kagaku-sensei, but he had an idea on how to reach him. He placed an add in the Chicago Tribune, listed in the employment section under science. The add read: “Enterprising young man looking scientist adventure plenty of excitement exp req.” While he waited for a reply Derek went out to do some shopping, with the death of his parents Derek’s bank was full for the first time in a while and with these funds he traversed the Windy City and gathered supplies for his planned bear-knapping. He bought: 3 Bags Marshmallows, Grappling hook, a water backpack,  2 weeks MRE meals, an external frame hiking backpack, a fanny pack, bear spray, 2 pounds salami, a long spindly pipe, 5 ounces of Norwegian Shag pipe tobacco, chocolate gold coins, compound hunting bow with 40 arrows, a quiver and toiletries. He also had on mail order a book of hiking paths through the western United States and Canada. Derek trained for the upcoming operation; he ran 3 miles a day for a week before growing tired of this practice. However he climbed all trees on his route through the park and more than once was scolded by the beat-cops to not encourage the children to commit such reckless acts of self endangerment. He visited Eliza at the zoo. She was passing glad to see him, but do to her sickness their visit was more long distance than usual and shortened by the coming of large animal veterinarians. He spoke to her in quiet tones, just a man trying to console the bear, he told her of his pan to rescue her. The bear lick her chops and listened with glee, for a moment she felt miles away, almost free already. The plans seemed sound and she had faith in her man to deliver her from the stinking zoo. He tried sneaking her a marshmallow but Zookeeper Perzanowski caught him in the act and scolded, “You’ll make the bear sicker than she is already! Eliza doesn’t need sweets, she needs medicine. She is an animal and can’t eat that”
Derek was outraged, he gritted his teeth, “You don’t know what’s goin’ on with her, she hates this place, it reeks of inhumanity, that den is cramped and dirty, she needs to be set free!”
“Oh you’re one of those are you? Can’t you see we are trying to help her? She is sick and we have the top veterinarians here trying everything they can.” Retorted Perzanowski, his read hair was making Derek very angry.
“No! They can’t help her! It isn’t about science! She needs to be free!”He yelled and several zoo-goers scurried past and dragged their children. “What she wants is out of here. You people aren’t going to help her with that! She is dying in here.”
“Dying? Is that a threat, you are stressing the bear out. Get out of here.” His walkie-talkie buzzed and crackled as he shook it at Derek.
Soon rent-a-cops arrived, zoo security on their battery powered mounts. Derek was well aware and put his hands up in desperation, “I’m sorry I just thought I could do better by giving her a treat. I’ll be going. You prolly know what you’re doing Zookeeper.” He turned and back waved his raised hand at Eliza. She growled low and lumbered off to her bed. At least with all this attention her hay was fresh. Perzanowski remained quite miffed the rest of the day and made a note in blog about miscreants at the zoo and members of PETA. Derek exited the zoo, the angry eyes following him, he cared not for he was going to rescue his beloved Eliza, the plan was there.
During Derek’s frequent visits to the zoo he had long since memorized its layout, a second home, he knew it as well as the satellites in earth orbit. He returned to Sunshine Estates, the desk receptionist took note of his improved demeanor, not only that book she was impressed at how well he cleaned up, he had a regal swagger and his shoulders seamed broader than normal. She subconsciously licked her lips. Derek caught that and was extremely creeped out, she was a very nice woman, but haggard. He once dreamt of smashing a face like hers with an axe handle. Such was his thought as he approached the knob of his door.
“Oh, Mr. Scott?” Chimed out the receptionist, “Someone stopped by earlier….”
“Yeah and!?” barked Mr. Derek Scott.
“Oh!” She bit her lip for a moment. “A gross old man came by, he said he knew your mother. I told him you were out and he left.”
“That’s all? Try bothering me some other time. I don’t care if friends of the family come by now, I have things to take care of, I’m grieving in my own way.” That was his reply, he then turned away and finished entering his room. He quickly shut the door behind him.

Chapter Six: An Elephant Never Forgets
As the sunset on Sunshine Estates the hopes of Young Master Scott rose, for as he had breached the threshold of his door a grand surprise greeted him. T’was none other than Kagaku-sensei, sporting a sardine filled beard.
“How did you..? When did you…? MY SHIRT HURTS!” Derek slammed the door behind him; portraits of Jesus H. Christ shimmied on the walls. He stood there slack jawed and slaphappy, gaping at the spectacle of a man before him. Kagaku-sensei was adorned with Christmas ornaments and armed with a long branch of a tree; its leaves were faded green and broad. He raised the sassafras branch over his head and his street worn face glowered at Young Master Scott. Clad in a grey trench coat, woolen and moth eaten like a cheesecloth condom it clung to his decrepit old self and grimy hand reached into his pocket and withdrew a small leather bound date book.
“This is my razor wit!” ejaculated the Science Master. “I have come to your aide and the aide of all this world. I’ve arrived armed only with a branch of root beer and my razor wit. I know of your plans, I’ve seen it all!” By no unordinary means could this have been done. Scattered about the apartment were lists, bills and maps all pertaining to the zoo rescue. “It is a great plan, by my wit however it seams you need my assistance more than you know. I shall be with you for all the time I have to see things are done accordingly to the grand design. My wand of sassafras shall be of great help but you need a weapon of pure earth, a metal forged greatly for silence and heroic deeds such as thou dost have lain before you.” Derek was remembering Kagaku-sensei’s senility and abstract speaking. “I do know of such a blade as might do you great service. As of yet I’ve met no one worthy to borrow its strength. Or rather I had but you were not ready at the time, I see you’ve shaven and are now in-the-know enough to wield it.