The Shadow of the Bear: A Fairy Tale Retold (20 page)

“Rose Brier, you have after-school detention for the rest of this week, starting tomorrow. And you are also not to go near Lisa or her friends.” He took off his glasses and wiped them. “I feel I should warn you two girls that this character you call ‘Bear’ is a dangerous person. I recognized him the other night as a former student here, Arthur Denniston, who was arrested for trying to sell drugs on school property. I don’t know what type of association you girls have with him, but I’d advise you to end it. I say this as a school administrator concerned for your welfare.” He gave them both a meaningful stare and dismissed them.

Rose wondered if Mr. Freet had told his brother about the episode with the coat this morning. Probably that’s why the principal had treated them so sternly. “I just want to go home,” Rose said to Blanche, holding her head. “I feel sick.”

“Then let’s go home,” Blanche said soothingly. “I’ve gotten measured already. Mother can call the school later.” She put a gentle arm around her sister and led her out of the school building.

“I just know Bear’s not a drug dealer, I know it!” Rose said miserably after they had left the school grounds.

“But the fact is, Rose, Bear has a past.  And that past is going to make trouble for him,” Blanche said, attempting to sound comforting and realistic at the same time. 

“I don’t believe it,” Rose said flatly.  “I don’t believe Bear ever did drugs.  I feel I should be able to tell if he had.”

Blanche half-smiled. “Well, it’s nice that you feel that way, but Bear did tell us that he was arrested for possessing drugs.”

“That’s just it!” Rose pointed out. “Possessing them, not using them.”

“Well, both of them are wrong,” Blanche said.

“You know, I really can’t believe you, Blanche,” Rose turned on her sister suddenly.  “After all Bear’s done for us and done for you, you still doubt him?”

Blanche colored, feeling the smart of injustice, but she attempted to explain herself.  “It’s different for me, Rose,” she said at last.  “I don’t doubt him, but I don’t deny what I know either.  I used to care about Bear’s past.  Now I don’t, because I see how he is today.  I—I trust him.”  

There was silence, and Blanche realized she had discovered her feelings even as she articulated them.

“Well,” Rose said at last.  “Those girls in your class and Dr. Freet seem to think that Bear still is a drug dealer.  What about that?”

Blanche said gloomily. “My
feelings
say Bear isn’t involved with drugs in any way, but as for what I know—it’s sort of like the opposite of religious faith. Oh, let’s not even talk about it.”

“No, we’ve got to know the truth!” Rose insisted.

“But why?” Blanche asked despondently.

“Because there’s something here we’ve got to know. Bear’s tried to keep his troubles and our friendship separate, but maybe that’s not right.  Maybe he needs our help.”

Blanche felt a rising tide of apprehension pass over her.  Rose thought she could handle anything, but Blanche was too keenly aware of how inadequate they actually were—how weak she was, at least.  She felt cold, even in the bright sunlight.  “I don’t know, Rose.  I just don’t know.”

“Well, I’m going to investigate,” Rose said resolutely. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Why me?” Blanche folded her arms over her schoolbooks.

“As if I could do anything without you,” Rose said affectionately, putting her hand on her sister’s shoulder.

They continued walking in silence until they reached their block when Blanche said, “By the way, thanks for rescuing me.”

“Any time,” said Rose, flexing her muscles.

Mother had something to say to Rose about using violence to solve arguments, but she came down unfailingly on her daughter’s side otherwise. “Let’s just hope that this is the end of the matter,” Mother finished. “It might be wise for you girls to stick together as much as possible until the school year ends.”

“We will, Mom, we will,” Rose promised.

“I only have four more days left before exams start, anyhow,” Blanche said. “I’m glad for that.”

When they woefully told Mother what the principal had said about Bear, she frowned. “Hm! That is disturbing. But after all, girls, Bear did mention his drug charges to us before.”

“Yes, but why didn’t he tell us he used to go to St. Catherine’s? And why didn’t he tell us his real name?” Rose asked.

“I don’t know. But I’m sure he had his reasons,” Mother said. “Sometimes school principals don’t know the full story behind everything that goes on in their own buildings. I tend to believe what I see, not what I hear. Bear seems like an honest boy to me.”

“But the principal told us not to associate with him any more,” Blanche pointed out.

“Well, we may never see him again,” Mother said matter-of-factly. “If we do see him again, maybe we’ll find out the answers to your questions, but until then, we’ll just pray for him and leave the mysteries alone.”

Blanche and Rose looked at each other. Neither mentioned that Rose had no intention of leaving them alone.

“Let’s begin at the beginning. Let’s jot down everything we can remember about anything personal Bear ever said to us, and we’ll go from there,” Rose said that night in the bedroom, taking out a school notebook. They had gone up to their room early, telling Mother that they had extra work to do. She had said goodnight to them with a smile.

Blanche sat cross-legged on the bed, frowning. “Well, the first night he was here, he said he had a brother. And that they were both arrested for possessing drugs.  Or delivering them. Or something like that.”

“Yeah. Mother would remember.” Rose scribbled that down. “Did he say anything about where he lived that first night he came?”

“No, never.”

“Hmm. That first night, we found out he liked G.K. Chesterton. I would guess that might mean that he was Catholic.”

“Besides the fact that he went to St. Catherine’s and was an altar boy,” Blanche pointed out matter-of-factly.

“He-heh. I forgot. Yes, besides that. Oh, I remember! He told Mom that his mother died of cancer. We should check the obituaries in the paper for a Mrs. Denniston.”

Something clicked in Blanche’s mind, and she stared. Suddenly she shouted, “A. Denniston! A. Denniston!” bouncing up and down on the bed.

“Shh! What’s wrong? What?” Rose looked at her sister in amazement.

“Arthur Denniston is A. Denniston!” Blanche practically shrieked.

“What are you talking about?”

Blanche scrambled to her feet and seized her schoolbag. She rifled through her papers and pulled out one. “The poem we read! Remember—A. Denniston!”

“Bear is A. Denniston,” Rose said mechanically. Her eyes kindled. “So he was Sister Geraldine’s favorite student.”

Blanche was practically crying with laughter. “The nut! We read him his own poem and he had to pretend that he didn’t like it! He must have felt put on the spot! The nut! He must have wanted to die!”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s so hard to criticize your own poem. He probably couldn’t stand it. I always think mine are wretched,” Rose said.

“No wonder he was Sister’s favorite,” Blanche said. “All that poetry he’s read on his own. He must have stuck out in class badly.”

“Tomorrow,” Rose pointed to her sister resolutely, “while I’m in detention, you are going to talk to Sister Geraldine.”

Blanche opened her mouth to object, and realized there was no way around it. If she wanted to see Bear’s name cleared, she was going to have to get involved.

Chapter 14

ALL DAY LONG, Rose itched for school and detention to be over so that she could hear what Blanche would find out from Sister Geraldine. But the day passed as slowly as a snail, and Rose felt she was going mad. That afternoon in chemistry lab, she was standing by the lab sink, praying obsessively that Sister Geraldine wouldn’t have an unexpected stroke, when she realized that Suzanne was working near her. She hadn’t talked to the girl since prom night, and the sight of her now brought back a stream of uncomfortable memories. Rob was still ignoring Rose, which was something to be grateful for. But she wondered how much Suzanne knew. Then the girl looked up and saw her.

Rose decided to be friendly. “Hi, Suzanne.”

“Hi, Rose.” Suzanne seemed a bit uncertain, but still open.

“How’s Franklin?”

“Oh, we’re not dating anymore. We were never really serious.” Suzanne fiddled with one of her hoop earrings, and then abruptly said in a low voice, “What happened with you guys the night of the prom? Rob said you took off.”

“Yeah, I did.” Rose suddenly found that her worn-down pencil point held a certain fascination for her. She picked at its edges with a fingernail.

“What happened? Nobody saw you go out.”

“He was trying to pull some stuff on me. I told him to cut it out, and he wasn’t stopping. So I left. I got a ride home.” Rose decided against saying she had climbed out the window. She had hoped that Suzanne’s memory of that night might be a bit hazy. Apparently, she guessed right, because Suzanne didn’t ask her any more questions.

“Rose, I feel bad. Rob’s done that to girls before. I should have told you, but I didn’t know how serious you guys were.”

“I wish you would have said something,” Rose said. “I certainly wasn’t expecting it. I wouldn’t have gone out with him if I had known what type of guy he really was.”

“Yeah, that’s what I couldn’t figure out—why you were going with him. Didn’t you know that Rob and his buddies track down girls just to score with them?”

Rose hadn’t. Her face flamed in sudden anger. “Those jerks!” She could think of much worse things to say, but she confined herself to that.

“Yeah, they’re pretty sick if you ask me. I’m glad you got him to respect you.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I doubt very much whether he learned a lesson.”

Suzanne’s eyes widened. “Then he … ”

“No, he didn’t get a chance, thank God. Boy, that makes me mad!” She couldn’t think of anything else coherent to say.

“Rose Brier, are you finished with your lab exercises?” the teacher asked from across the room.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Rose slammed the book and strode back to her seat, not looking at Suzanne again. She was going to have a talk with Rob.