Writing Marson and Walter the Bear

[Mitch]

This story is going to be so awesome when more is written lol.

I don't know...I love this thing for how it's going on one hand, and on another I am doing it just for fun. We'll see where it goes.

[center]"Marson and Walter the Bear"[/center]

[b]1[/b]
"Open...your eyes." A voice. A cold, icy voice.

A freezing voice.

"Open your eyes!" it said. Louder this time. Impatient.

He opened his eyes, his vision settling in shaky lines. And he couldn't believe what he saw. It was an animal of some kind. He couldn't remember. Not then. His thoughts were all over.

[i]Where in the world am I[/i], he thought, blinking, still getting used to his surroundings. "You are...here," the animal said?the bear?that's what it was. The bear pointed. He moved his ruffled, freezing fur around him in endless circles.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" The bear paused, looking at him as a mother may look upon her child. "Why, I can read minds," the bear said. "Can read em down to the bark."

Tired, he looked around him, looked from the bear to where he was. It was a cave of some kind, and far away, like a dream, he could see the entrance of the cave; it stood white from snow, effaced light seeping from it. The cave itself was too dark to see much other than some rocky, rough features.

He tried to stand up. He hoisted his legs and all his might, put his hands tightly on the ground, pushing on the rocky cave floor as hard as he could. The bear continued to watch him closely.

"I don't think you'll be able to get up, really, Marson." Marson fell back at the mention of his name, still just realizing that the bear somehow knew much about him, including his name.

"It's Mars for short, if you please," he said, trying to sound in control. "And why is it that I can't stand up, anyhow?" Marson asked. "And where is this. You know, don't you? You have to."

The bear finally walked over to him, his paws dangling about in the freezing air like petrified wood stakes. Putting his hands on Mars, he held him like a mother. "We're on Mount Everest, if you must know. Not a good place, not a good one at all." He paused. "My name is Walter Bear. Just Walt for short if you want." But Marson didn't even hear him. He was gone.

When Walt had touched him, he had been whisked away in his mind. His eyes were still open, but Mars was having a deep flashback. He was back in house. The warmth was all over him, like the feeling of a glove warming flesh. And there was his Mother, young, not a wrinkle on her face. Not the same Mother he knew now that was grey and dying. But his Mother. She was telling him a story in his room as he lie bed. And in his young, thin hands was his prized bear, Ruthor. Ruth for short. Ruth was a beautiful little thing, with his buttons for his eyes, and his brown fur. Marson had loved him. He could just feel Ruth's soft, gentle fur in his hands like he was actually there, in his bed, all tight and cozy being told a story by his Mother.

But this image was soon gone. He came back, his hands held out, groping in the air, trying to snuggle a bear that was in the past and that had once lied in bed with him while his mother, without wrinkles, had told him a story. The bear was long gone.

Walter the Bear looked at Marson curiously; he was moving his head over and about, his hands to his sides, flittering about as if they were trying to hold still. It was as if the bear had something very meaningful to say. Marson looked at him, just as curious.

"What is it?" Marson asked, trying to get the bear to speak. The bear still stood there a while longer, his hands still moving about. Then he finally spoke up when it seemed he'd never speak.

"I used to be one, too," he said. "My master was called Lisa. She was a really beautiful little girl. She would hold me close, like I meant so much. I miss her." Walt looked at the ground.

"But you're a bear. A grizzly bear, from the looks of it. How were you once a stuffed animal?" Mars looked at him unbelievingly. It just couldn't be true. A bear?a grizzly bear, of all things?once living as a stuffed animal? It was insane.

"No, it's not insane," Walter said. "Not at all. You see, this place is...is where all children's things go when they die or are disowned. They are given back their souls, and left here to live. Have you ever heard of the abominable snowman? Even he is a discarded, disowned child's toy. He lives here. Maybe I'll show him to you, if you want." Marson looked at Walt in wonder, not quite understanding how such a thing as this could be true. It really did sound absurd. "I know it sounds absurd, but it's the truth. I don't know how you got here, though. Not at all. I found you in a crevice of mine I often relax in. It looked like you'd taken a hard fall. So I brought you here."

"And where is here, exactly," asked Marson. He hadn't heard the bear say where they were; he had been in his warm flashback. The bear finally moved his head from looking at the ground.

"Hadn't you heard me when I told you before?" the bear asked, not pausing long enough for Marson to answer. "Well, Mars, I guess you didn't. We're at Mount Everest, if you must know. Pretty close to the summit, in fact."