The Death Bear
The first
official ‘Teddy Bear’ was produced in 1902 by Morris Michtom for his small
novelty and candy store in New York, but toy bears had been loved and owned by
countless generations before that date.
What is
little known is that the giving of a toy bear was originally seen as a way of
passing on luck or fortune, or at least that was meant to be the case. But one
little brown bear was passed on with a curse and this toy became known through
the ages as the ‘death bear’.
The bear
looked like any other and any child given it to care for, loved it as they
would any other ‘teddy’. The parents were always grateful for the gift not
understanding that ownership of the bear would bring tragedy to the family in the
loss of their child.
Of course
after such a tragic happening the family would grieve for some time and the
child’s playthings would be left in their room in the desperate hope that
somehow the child might come back.
After time
the family would have to give or throw away those physical memories finally
realising that their child would not return but instead would live forever in
their heart.
And so it
went on over decades and decades. Families taking in the little bear and
watching with joy the love their child showed for the little furry toy. It was
worn and in places tatty but that didn’t seem to diminish the hugs and kisses
that the little bear would receive from its young owner. But neither they, nor
their parents and brothers and sisters, could see the curse that lay at the
heart of the bear. That was until one day. A young child playing in the garden
was summoned into the house by his insistent parents.
“Great Aunt
Clemence is here Giles,” they shouted through the French doors, “and she has
something for you.”
Giles,
although only two and a half knew what this meant. A kiss on the cheek from a
woman whose lips were as rough as the cats and whose whiskers were as sharp.
Worse though was the smell of the powder she wore on her face. To Giles is smelt
of something rotting and he hated when it stayed on him so that he could smell
her even when she was not around.
“My, hasn’t
he grown,” Aunt Clemence cooed as he walked into the room. “Come over here
where I can see you boy and give your Great Aunt a big kiss.”
Giles
shuddered as she held him tight and squeezed the air from his body. Before he
could close his eyes and screw up his lips her hairy wet mouth was upon him.
“Now then,”
she said, “I have a present for you,” and with that she handed him a little
brown bear.
“Oh how
lovely,” said the parents but for Giles he could just smell Aunt Clemence’s
stale perfume on its fur.
“Where did
you get it?” Giles’ mother asked.
“You run
along and play,” said Aunt Clemence and Giles left the room to the sound of his
Aunt explaining about the curious tragedy that had brought the bear into her
safekeeping.
Giles took
the bear up to his bedroom, took one last look at it and threw it into the back
of the cupboard where his toys were kept. He put the large box in which his
soldiers slept in front and shut the door.
He did not
think about the bear again until it was time for him to join the army and only
then because as he was packing he decided to take one of his toy soldiers with
him for luck. In moving the old box the bear fell forwards.
Giles lifted
it up and at once he could sense that smell of childhood. He looked into the
little bear’s eyes and he could somehow sense evil. It made no sense, perhaps
it was the war that he was leaving to fight in, but he knew the longer he held
that bear the more danger his life was in.
He threw it
back into the cupboard and banged the door shut. He was a man now. He need have
no fear of Aunt Clemence’s bear, he had real evil to fight.
Now picture
the scene of an old man in an old people’s home. He has spent many years there.
Occasionally his family come to see him, very occasionally. He has friends at
the home and many he can share memory with as they went through a war together.
Four years
ago his grandaugher came with her new baby boy, their first. A beautiful baby
and the start of what he hoped would be regular visits. He wanted to see the
boy grow, wanted to share his memories, wanted to love once again. But it was
not to be, it was just the one visit and since then photographs of the boy at
Christmas in a card with what they called a ‘newsletter of their year’. It was
through that newsletter that he found out that they had finally sold the old
house. It was as if in reading that sentence the door had been shut on his
childhood. Since then he had grown older very quickly.
The nurse
wheeled him into the television room. “Here we are Giles, it’s that programme
you like.”
Giles could
hear the voice of Fiona Bruce introducing The Antiques Road show. He sat in
front of the TV half in a daze watching people bringing their trinkets and
heirlooms to be valued. He was almost asleep when he heard a voice he knew and
opened his eyes wide.
It was his
granddaughter and she was explaining how they had found it when clearing out
the old family house. Sitting next to her was his great grandson looking smart
in his new clothes bought for TV.
He could hear
the expert saying, “Well some of the really old ones can be very valuable now,
especially if they are in good condition.”
Giles leant
forward to get a clearer view as his great grandson lifted the object onto the
table. As the bear fell forward its head turned to the camera and in that
moment Giles could see the evil.
“And will you
sell it?,” said the expert to the boy.
“Oh no,” he
said clearly, “I am going to keep this bear until I die.”
When the
Nurse came back into the room Giles was dead in his chair, his arm outstretched
towards the television. The others in the room could only say that he had
suddenly screamed ‘No, no, no ooooooooooo’ in a loud voice as he reached out
and had died as the Nurse had found him
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