The Conversation

 

            “Alright, your majesty, Ralph, old buddy,” said Rick. “Time to come clean.”
            “What?” Ralph said, innocently, still munching on a bite of cherry turnover.
            “So, yeah, the big bear gambit seems to have worked. I’m not getting anymore chat about the Honey Bear, or the big brown bear who visited the other night. However, I have sensed a certain amount of evasiveness from you myself. The farmers are long gone back to their farms. All is serene and clicking right along at Maple Heart Camp.
            “I know you know who it was, and I don’t know why it’s such a big mystery,” said Rick. “Are you shielding someone, Ralph?”
            “Um, what makes you think so?” said the king, evasively.
            “I’m a little hurt, Ralph. You can trust me. You know that, don’t you?”
            “Aw, Rick. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like that,” said Ralph.
            Rick stood up and walked over to the window, looking out toward the dumpster. He sighed. “You know, I’m supposed to keep track of things around here. And that was a thing.”
            “The Honey Bear didn’t break anything, or hurt anybody, did he?” said Ralph. He swiveled around to look at Rick’s back.
            “No, he didn’t hurt anybody or break anything, he just got some farmers talking,” said Rick.
            “Jeez, Rick, the Honey Bear was Twigg. Couldn’t you figure that out? Who else is out here fitting the description?” said Ralph. “I was covering for my kid. And he isn’t coming back to haunt the campground at night anymore.”
            “I understand covering for your kid, that much makes sense to me,” said Rick. “But, why was he here that night? Marge isn’t here anymore,” said Rick. “Marge isn’t even Marge anymore, which you know better than I do.”
            “Twigg is embarrassed,” said Ralph.  “Because he was there for a silly reason. He was trying to surprise Leely.”
            “I’m still confused. How?” Rick turned around and went back to his desk.
            “Why?” said Rick.
            “When I asked him, he told me that Leely said that when she was working here, that out beyond the walking trails, deep in the forest that there was a small patch of Trillium flowers growing that she used to love to photograph. She said she missed them. Twigg decided to dig a couple up and bring them to her to pot and keep. He feels silly about being seen hunting a flower in the middle of the night,” Ralph said, “And he’s very sorry to have alarmed anyone.”
            “Fer Pete’s sake, Ralph. A romantic gesture?”
            “Yep. He’s pretty goofy about her, you know?”
            “He’s a model for us all,” said Rick, laughing now. “In a way, it’s a good thing those guys called him some kind of a bear. Made life easier for me. Whoever heard of a Squatch being called a Honey Bear?”
            “New to me, Rick. I thought it was kind of cute.”
            Rick took their mugs out to the kitchen nook and filled them again, to wash away the momentary awkwardness between himself and his friend.
            “Did she like the flowers?” said Rick.
            “She loved them so much that she cried a little. But, I’m not sure Trillium are really suited for living in a pot. But it might work next to the Alder Tree House.
            “Did I ever tell you about the tree spirit I pulled out of a dead fir and sent over there to live in a young alder?
            “Well, anyhow, I think she might keep an eye on that pot of Trillum flowers. Stranger things have happened,” said Ralph.
            “You didn’t, but I believe you,” Rick murmured.

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