Waiting For Him

As most people would say, living in Canada isn't all that great. Sure Canadians have health care, welfare, free public education, clean water, and all that.

That's the problem, nothing interesting happens that often. Especially when you compare it to other countries.

Though if I lived in a place where exciting happens every so often, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the finer things in life at a moderate tempo.

One of these things happened while I took a walk in the park one afternoon in late November, after lunch.

I noticed a small polar bear sitting alone on the bench, looking from side to side. It was a mystery why it was there in the first place. A polar bear wouldn't be in Ottawa during this time of year, or any time of year actually.

"Hey there cub, who are you waiting for?" I asked letting curiosity get the better of me.

The bear's gaze froze on me for a long moment, before it's eyes started to wander again. "That guy" it replied, sounding slightly depressed.

I guessed I looked quite comical, because I felt my eyes bugging out, and my jaw hanging down. It's not everyday you get to meet a polar beat who can talk.

"Who are you talking about?" I asked, straightening myself out.

"That guy"

"Who?"

The bear looked a little disgruntled, furrowing it's furry eyebrows in deep thought before he replied to me. "The guy who feeds me"

I pity the master (or trainer) of that bear, it couldn't remember his or her name.

The bear glanced at me, and quickly caught on what was going through my head. "Don't get me wrong human, but animals don't need names to identify those whom we recognise as family."

It shifted in it's seat a little uncomfortably, before getting off the bench mumbling "not comfy".

"Doesn't it make it harder to find each other though?" I absentmindedly played with the fray at the end of my scarf.

"No" the bear seated itself behind a log, finding the patch of grass rather comfortable. "My kind have a special connection. We do not need names to find one another."

"But the person we're talking about is human"

The bear's eyes glimmered humorously, "How wrong you are, child. This man is no ordinary man."

It's voice became soothing, and deep; as if it was detaching my mind from my body. Colours drifted into my vision, and created shapes of animals and dancing figures. They frolicked around the trees, and soared in the sky. They started to congregate and filled my sight.

When I was able to see again, I was in the middle of a thick forest. Branches stuck out everywhere, the forestry was untamed and wild. Some of which was digging into my back. My feet were glued to the ground and two or three fruit flies were flying around my head.

There was a gap in between the trees. In the gap, I saw a small native child eating berries with the bear I just met. They were so engrossed in indulging themselves, they failed to notice a twig snapping beside me.

I turned and saw a blonde man next to me, he was so close, I could practically hear his heartbeat. I tried to say something, but no noise escaped my lips. He wore an old fashioned European hat with a large fluffy feather attached at the top. Poofy shirt, poofy pants, buckles, and belts galore.

"Bonjour" he said.
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Now I'm see the boy again, he's trading fur with the French man for a pot.

The bear sat patiently next to him, while the boy listened intently to the older man.

I never paid attention to my french classes earlier in my life, so the conversation flew over my head. Though I did notice, that the boy's hair had flecks of gold in them.
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It's winter again, and the boy is playing in the snow with some french children. By now, his hair is bright yellow, and his eyes shimmered different colours in the light.

To my right, there's a cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney. I can see the french man through the window. His head in his hands, shoulders shaking violently. The bear came into view, now as tall as the french man himself, and it's nuzzle affectionately into the man's side.

The man looked up and embraced the furry creature. I looked back at the boy. He's no longer playing, but staring at the cabin. At his angle, he wouldn't be able to see the figures through the window.

But he can tell something was wrong.
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The boy is being violently ripped from the man's arms. The boy's face is flushed from large tears and heavy gulps of air. The bear is now just as small as I have first seen it.

The french man is being held back by men in red uniforms. He's struggling to embrace the boy again, only to be struck unconscious by the soldier behind him.

"He's mine now frog, I gave you a whole day to say farewell." The new figure said, green eyes glaring at the french man. His hair is considerably shorter, and eyebrows dynamically slanted. He gave a wave of dismissal, and the french man was taken away;the room was now empty save for the boy and man with thick eyebrows.

The boy is crying harder now, words spilled out of his mouth quickly. Most likely he's words are no longer comprehensible in any language. The new man waited patiently until he quieted down and hiccuped.

"I am Arthur Kirkland. I represent Great Britain and you are now my colony. No longer are you under France's authority, but my own. Do you understand Matthew?"

The boy dug his face into the bear's fur, shaking his head as he did so.

Arthur's body became frigid for a moment. Then he stood up and carried Matthew. The boy gave a weak squeak as he did so. He walked right through me and placed Matthew on the table. Dampening a cloth, he slowly pried Matthew's face from the bear and began wiping away the salt and snot from his face.

The bear gave a soft angry mewl, as if it's energy was drained significantly.

Arthur did not pay any attention to this, as the room faded into another scene.

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I don't know how long I've been here, nor did I know how many things I've seen so far.

The last few scenes flew by quickly. As if to blind me, and prevent me from the horrors that were probably happening right before me. Curses and gunfire were spat and shot quickly, muffling the sounds of the crackling of fire and screams. A putrid burning smell entered my nose, mixed in with sea salt.

I can still not walk, but my feet sank into the ground like sand. Sensing a familiar aura, I blindly felt to my left.

My hand brushed against a thick damp uniform. It seems the figure didn't feel it.

"Wait for me Francis, I'm coming." The voice I was so used to hearing young, is now mature and strong. Filled to the brim with determination and courage, the quiet passive tone is no longer left.

With a wild beastly cry, Matthew left, the sound of his boots against the wet sand was overwhelmed by the bombings and sounds of war.

A sense of pride flooded my heart, despite the on going battle that seemed to be happening around me. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to prevent the tears from flowing down my cheeks.

"Do you get it now?" The voice shattered everything around me with a deathly staccato.

Snapping my eyes open, the bear sits before me. I am no longer in the world I was before, but back in my home city and on a park bench. "You're right. It's ridiculous to have to call his name."

The feeling of pride grew stronger as I picked up the bear and walked down the path that lead to a pond behind a thicket of trees, that sat in the center of the large park.

A man in a thin long brown coat was calling various similar names to the trees. I looked at the bear, "What is your name anyways?"

"Kumajirou"

"Sounds Japanese"

"Japanese art was all the rage back in the mid-1800's. Arthur felt it was wrong to just call me 'Bear'." Kumajirou said with a shrug.

Suddenly I stopped in my tracks. Kumajirou looked up curiously. "I bet you only said 'who' just to get back at Matthew for getting your name wrong. Didn't you?"

Kumajirou looked and saw his master had spotted them. "I'm not saying anything"

Matthew ran up to us, gasping deeply for air. "Thank for finding," he took in another breath, "my friend."

Kumajirou slid out of my arms and latched onto him.

"It's no problem, in fact, I'd say it was the other way around." I grinned up at him. He raised his eyebrow, confusion etched into his face.

Giggling, I patted him on the back. "You look tired, how about a cup of hot chocolate? I know a great place near here where they also make these delicious hand made maple candy."

His red cheeks grew a little darker from excitement and maybe a little from being treated by a girl who found his pet. "Ah- well. Thank you, but shouldn't I treat you instead?"

I waved it off, "No, no, no. Like I said, it was Kumajirou who took care of me. Besides, you look like you need the drink more than I do"

His voice became quieter, mumbling a hard-to-pick-up "thank you".

"You know what? I liked you're a lot cooler when you're more self-assertive, Canada"

"Really? Wait- How did you know?" He panicked.

I smiled at him and winked, "Kumajirou tells stories better than I can."

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Note: I was inspired to write this suddenly. Originally I was going to draw a chibi Canada in there, but this story wanted to be here instead.

This story was supposed to be only a short companion fic to the photo, but it came out a little too long.

I'll add more details later and re-post it on Fanfiction.net.

Part 2 will be on it's way soon as well.