Welcome to the Neighborhood

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

Welcome to the Neighborhood

By Plot Roach

The bear awoke from his chemical slumber, his head still filled with the image of an animal control officer shooting him with a tranquilizer dart. He growled and pulled himself to his feet. There was an odd smell to the air. The smog he was so accustomed to was no longer there. There were small pinpricks in the sky as opposed to the large city lights that had flooded the night. No rumbling of cars on the highway. No smell of rotting food from the dump. He wandered about on sluggish paws, a thick carpet of dead needles beneath his paws. Somewhere in the tree above him and animal cleared its throat.

“Where am I ?” the bear asked.

“What is left of the old world.” said a squirrel. “It’s what humans call a ‘wilderness preserve’. So… Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Why would they bring me here?”

“What do you remember?” asked the squirrel.

“I was eating some lovely garbage, then a dog barked at me from a human home. Then a van came and a man shot me. But I’m still alive -aren’t I?”

“You must have caused a ruckus in the city, my friend.” said the squirrel. “You got into someone’s garbage can and they made you sleep until they could bring you here.”

“But why? All I see is leaves and stuff. Where am I supposed to sleep? My cement overpass is gone. What am I supposed to eat? There are no garbage cans or dumps around here.”

“Whoa there Buddy, you are a bear. You are supposed to be out here. You sleep in a cave, you eat berries. Get it?”

“My name isn’t Buddy.”

“It’s just a term. Like ‘friend’” the squirrel said. “Bye the way, what is your name? I’m Acorn.”

“I’m Hubcap.”

“That’s an unusual name. How did you get it?”

“When we bears are young, our mothers do not name us right away. When we are old enough, we are told to go out into the world on our own and make our first kill, then we are given names.”

“And?”

“My first prey was a car.”

“You killed a car?!”

“No, not really. I was chasing a deer and it ran into the road. The car killed the deer, and the people driving it decided to take the deer with them. But it banged up their car, and parts of it were left behind. And let’s face it, a hubcap is easier to carry than a bumper.”

“Wow.” said the squirrel. “I was just named after what my mother was craving the most when she was pregnant with me.”

“I thought that squirrels gave birth in litters, how could she tell which was going to be you?”

“She didn’t. There are four of us named ‘Acorn’.”

“Must make family reunions interesting…”

“Tell me about it, I have seventeen cousins named ‘Hazel’.”

“Well…Now what?” the bear asked.

“Get some sleep, Hubcap. I’ll show you around in the morning.” said the squirrel. “Oh, and you will get the meet your new girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the bears like you have all but died out in these woods, so the humans brought you here to help perpetuate the species.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be much of a helping that matter.” the bear said.

“Why is that?”

“I’m not a ‘bear’ kind of guy. I’m more into badgers.”