Below is my flash fiction story Hibernation. It is archived on EscapePod as a podcast, but is no longer available in text form so I thought I'd post it here.
As with everything on my blog it is under a creative commons license -- see sidebar for specifics.
HIBERNATION
By Madge E. Miller
Two Alaskan Kodiak bears joined a small circus where the pair appeared nightly in a parade, pulling a covered wagon. The fact that they had joined the circus was not so strange; the circus life was very popular even for the better class of bear. The strange thing was that they were both primitive mutes. This alone elevated or, in the opinion of some bears still angry about the Great Russian Dancing Bear Revolt of '06, lowered them to the level of freak show attraction.
Studious black bears and thick-headed grizzlies paid top dollar to sit under the antique big top tent to watch the twin Kodiaks pull the brightly painted wagon. They paid even more to sit in the front row for a freak-show performance.
The Kodiaks were cleverly placed as the last act. That meant the cotton candy, hot dog, and popcorn sellers could work their magic on the bored crowd of bears and the rare human family. By the time the show had worked its way from Zelda the bearded lady to Ator the muscleman, the audience was in a sugar-amplified frenzy of excitement.
The Kodiak’s act always began with dinner. On some nights, the two bears fished for salmon in a huge metal tank. Other nights they rooted through trashcans or broke into cars to ravage picnic baskets. Then they would lumber around the stage on all fours, taking turns standing on their hind legs to make huge scratches on a fake tree. All these actions were performed in an eerie silence as the Kodiaks made not even one grunt or growl. This silent display of wild early bear behavior left everyone awed.
Afterwards the audience gossiped about the Kodiaks. Were they tragic victims of their environment? Kodiak Island bears were well known for in-breeding and eating food found in garbage dumps. Perhaps they had been abandoned in the wild and grown up away from the care of the bear community. Did they even have names?
Whatever the reason for their lack of speech and primitive behavior, the other bears were fascinated by the twin Kodiaks, and the ringmaster was certainly cashing in. He worked the Kodiaks from early morning until late at night, forcing them to do eight shows a day with no rest days. By the end of the touring season, the twins were very thin and clearly showing signs of extreme exhaustion.
That winter the ringmaster settled the troop in a small warehouse in Las Vegas. The Kodiaks had their own special cage room with plenty of straw and special climate control.
The first group to travel to Las Vegas for the show was shocked by the price of the tickets.
"Fifty dollars," said a small bear in a three-piece suit, "that's highway robbery!"
The show's barker arched his bushy gray caterpillar eyebrows and held out his hand for the money.
Grumbling, the small bear and his friend - a large grizzly - filed into the theater, along with the rest of the sold-out crowd. Thanks to a few well-timed fierce looks from the grizzly, the two managed to commandeer seats right in the front row, next to a sign announcing in bold letters "QUIET PLEASE".
The lights came up slowly, revealing the Kodiaks. They weren't their lively lumbering selves, but instead lay curled into a furry mass, sleeping. Their soft snores echoed through the auditorium.
The bears in the audience began whispering excitedly, respectful of the requested silence in the face of the ancient ritual of hibernation.
However, the two bears seated in the front row began to loudly speculate on this behavior.
"I thought we'd see something more exciting," said Frank, the grizzly.
"This is quite exciting," responded Edward, the black bear. "Great Grandpa often said that hibernation was one of the great mysteries of life."
"I don't see anything very mysterious. We all sleep." Frank's rumbling bass echoed in the room, causing their fellow audience members to glare at the two loud-mouth bears.
"But we don't hibernate. The theory is when our brains evolved past a certain level we could no longer drop into the deepest level of sleep needed to slow the metabolism."
Edward droned on with his tedious explanation of ancient versus modern bear behavior, despite several loud attempts to shush him.
Just as the ringmaster and two burly human roustabouts started down the aisle to remove them, a piercing voice shouted, "Would you be quiet. We're trying to sleep!"
Stunned, the audience stared at the two talking Kodiak bears--one of whom had his paw over his snout, eyes wide in shock.
The ringmaster wracked his brain trying to come up with a way to salvage the situation when the second Kodiak turned on his brother.
"Why'd you have to go and mess things up! This is the best gig we've had since we quit school."
With a roar he pounced on his twin and the two wrestled fiercely, eventually falling off the stage and into the audience, which scrambled out of the way of the struggling Kodiaks.
When they were done, not only was the ringmaster's scam in shambles, so was the auditorium. Stuffing from the seats was still floating down from the rafters a week later when a wrestling promoter, who had paid $15.99 to download an illicit video of the fight, called the twins and spoke with their 'manager', the ringmaster, about a nationwide tag team pro wrestling tour.
Two Alaskan Kodiak bears joined the wrestling circuit, where they appeared nightly in a ring wearing tights and a cape.
Swirling inside the cerebral cortex with the dead pigeons lying amongst the used condoms and dirty needles. The leopard seal snaps his jaws, sinking teeth into the blubbery belly of an emperor penguin. This is poetry. The scarlet ink scrawls across the virgin snow. The last words of an alcoholic Japanese painter. I listen and nod and think that perhaps this is enough. The squalor fills my eyes and ears and nose. The rain taps the roof and the halogen light flickers. I hold his hand as he slips away. The ectoplasm shivers somewhere unknown. I flick the ash from my cigarette and spit into the gutter.
Posted by: Maxwell | July 31, 2008 at 06:07 AM
I'm not sure if the above comment is supposed to be a continuation of your story or just someone who is on some special medication, but anyway... I really love this bear story! More bear stories, please. Should submit to some children's/fantasy publications.
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