Narnia, Chapter VII
Beauty and the Chronicles of Narnia, the Other
Chapter VII
*Good Riddance to the Last Bear*
Springtime arrived at last. The woods came alive with birdsong. Bright green leaves popped out from poplar, aspen-birch and maple, and fresh needles appeared on the spruce firs. The trails were muddy from the melted snow for a time, but eventually the ground was less soggy. The days began staying lighter longer so the kerosene lamps didn’t need their chimneys cleaned or wicks trimmed nearly as often. I had done a bit of hibernating since everything had slowed down so much, but now felt alert and energetic as well. The family had made it for nearly a year, a feat in itself, and I was eager to discover what would happen next and if I could be of any service. Sometimes, however, I was derelict in my duties.
Since the outhouse had yet to be built, that pot of night soil demanded emptying every morning. Someone had to carry and empty the bucket at the pit. That someone turned out to be Beauty. She was old enough now to be given another chore, as distasteful as this one was.
So every morning, bucket handle in hand, she gingerly carried it away from the cabin and towards the old campsite. It was a delicate matter. This particular morning, it was very full, and since she didn’t want any to splash out, she took it slow and easy. She intently looked down to where her feet were going because of all the tree roots which made navigating difficult. She sure didn’t want to trip!
About halfway along her journey, she felt a presence. She stopped, glanced up, and ten feet in front of her and standing on its hind legs and blocking her way, was a humongous black bear. The screams she let out were loud and blood-curdling and resounded throughout the forest. Both Popsi Blui and the mom knew exactly what those screams most likely meant.
Popsi Blui came running up from the big bowl where he had been cutting brush, machete in hand. The mom came running out of the kitchen, flapping her weaponized dishcloth, both so very adrenalized and unthinking that they had no time to get scared. They both raced from different directions to where the screams had been coming from, but which had now subsided. Not knowing what to expect, they arrived about the same moment only to see Beauty, shaken, but unharmed. She had taken matters into her own hands, defending herself using the only weapon at her disposal, and had flung the bucket at the encroaching bear, accurately hitting her mark. The empty bucket now lay useless on its side, the spilled contents a bit shy of its intended resting place. Needless to say, there was no bear in sight.
After giving lots of warm hugs to Beauty, and feeling happy and relieved and having much gratitude, they all walked to the cabin for a cup of tea and to settle a bit.
By hanging out with my friends in the thicket of the Big Bowl, I felt as if I had neglected my duty, feeling as if I could have warned Beauty ahead of time of the bear’s arrival. But, alls well that ends well, and Beauty’s accomplishment that day served her well thereafter. Her courage and quick thinking in the midst of adversity became a strength which impressed and encouraged many who knew her and were sensitive to her vibe. She became known as someone who got the job done, and, with efficiency.
An outhouse had finally been built, a two-seater! No more hauling! A picture of the Mona Lisa graced the inside wall.