Sherman's Big Surprise

“…and that’s how I came to live in the forest with a big black bear named Sherman,” I say, as I hang up on my good friend Giselle, the middle-aged prostitute-cougar who used to babysit me. She recently married my childhood friend, Jake, which had only served to bring us closer together. Believe me; if he is marrying a prostitute-cougar, we are not talking about Jake Gyllenhaal here.

“Doesn’t Giselle already know about us?” Sherman asks, as he wanders in from his morning walk to get me honey and take my cat, Miss Richard Hatch, for a stroll. Sherman is one smart cookie and he is right about this as well. Giselle had recently met him at my ten year high school reunion. It was quite the site, a bear, a cougar and Jake Gyllenhaal’s doppelganger. Needless to say, the twenty-year reunion has already been officially cancelled.

“I just love telling that story,” I smile, as I stir some of the fresh honey into my Earl Grey tea. “Kind of like how Miss Richard loves to not pay her taxes. I look over at my cat, who is glaring at me. I keep forgetting that her deal with the devil included the ability to read lips. “Besides, Giselle has done so many recreational drugs in her time that she has absolutely zero short-term memory. I could tell her that story every day for the rest of her life and she wouldn’t be bothered a bit!”

“Well, then I guess she is lucky to have you in her life,” Sherman says, rolling his eyes. He does this so often that I barely even notice anymore. It’s almost as though we have become an old married couple in the short season we have been together. Then he throws a bundle of bills onto the trunk of a tree we use as a table. “Here, the mail’s found you.”

I am beginning to detect a bit of edginess to Sherman this morning, which is a real change of pace. He is usually all sunshine and rainbows while I am the bitchy one, but I don’t want to bring anything up since winter is inching its way closer. I used to love winter. Snow men, skating, watching people slip on the ice. It was all so majestic. But now, my priorities have changed. I have a black bear and a confused cat to keep busy taking care of me, and both of them will be getting ready to hibernate in like 2.2 seconds.

You might not have guessed, but I don’t do well in isolation, which is the main reason I have never robbed a bank. Instead, I choose to tackle the lesser of two evils and open some mail. “Shit! My subscription to Sylvia Brown’s mailing list has been declined!”

“When is the last time you paid that bill?” Sherman asks.

“Paid?” I respond, as though he just tried to slip in that he thinks Chuck Norris would actually make a good president. “She’s supposed to be a psychic. She should have seen this coming.” Obviously Sylvia Brown is an even bigger lunatic than I am, but that’s why I find her so fascinating. Well, that and how she went to jail—twice. Celebrities that go to jail are the only ones worth paying any attention to. The ones who make it a regular occurrence are worth following on Twitter.

“Maybe it’s time you start thinking about some form of gainful employment,” Sherman smiles.

“Oh, I see,” I retort, which is my word of the day. Otherwise I would have only responded. “That’s what this is about.”

“That’s what what’s about?” Sherman asks, confused.

“Your pissy mood,” I say. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re due. I am usually the one bitching and moaning. I just thought maybe you were upset about the same thing I am, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were upset because you will be hibernating soon and I won’t get to see you anymore,” I say, beginning to blubber like a baby.

“Oh, Eahore,” Sherman responds. “I’m upset because I am going to have to go away soon, but not to hibernate.”

“No? Are you going to jail too?” This seems far more exciting a prospect than it should.

“No,” Sherman smiles, as he beckons me over to sit with him. “There is something I have to tell you. I am not really a black bear. I’m a polar bear.”

“You’re a what!” I holler. “But, you’re so black?”

“Camouflage,” Sherman says. “I like to come down south for the summers. I just dye my hair. Do you hate me for lying to you?”

 It’s moments like these that you have a choice. You can let the shock of the unknown overwhelm you, or, you can choose to recognize the unconditional love and acceptance someone needs to see. I might be ridiculous about most things and I might not have a job or a future planned, but I know I love Sherman, no matter what.

“Hate you?” I ask, allowing a beaming smile to sweep across my face. “I fucking love polar bears! I was actually hoping you would be one!” Again, sure, it was a bit of a shock when Sherman gave me the news, but the fact is that the people we love are the only things that really matter in this life. The fact that he loves me enough to share his secrets with me is such a bigger reward than anything else.

“Plus, now I get to bleach my hair so it can match yours!” I shriek. “I bet we both look better as bleach-blondes!”

Then I look over at Miss Richard Hatch. Richard hisses at me. “Richard, don’t’ get your bitch on. There’s enough bleach for the two of us.”

“Scott, you don’t get it,” Sherman says, hugging me. “I have to go back up to the Arctic.”

“Brilliant!” I smile. “I’ll come with you. I could teach or something.”

“You’d do that?” Sherman asks. “For me?”

I give him one of those big bear hugs he loves so much. “Of course I would. You’ve done so much for me. I mean, you even befriended Giselle. I have already met your parents. You think a little thing like the fucking Tundra is going to stand between us?”

“It’s not always as romantic as Dr. Zhivago you know,” Sherman says.

“Pish,” I say, waving my hand in the air. “Look over there, Richard Hatch is purring.” Obviously she is sleeping. Richard doesn’t purr when she is awake.

“Do you think she’s dreaming about all of the new things she’ll get to eat in the Arctic Circle?” Sherman asks. Isn’t that sweet, I think. He really has come to care for her like she is his own.

“No,” I smile. “She’s going to be super pissed with the two of us. But who cares, she’s super pissed with me most of the time anyway.”

Then I walk off to the back of the cave. “Where are you going?” asks Sherman.

“To pack,” I smile. “I’m moving north! Oh, also to go give those blue jays a piece of my mind. There’s really no reason for me to feign friendship with them if we are just passing through.” I know in my heart this is going to be the scariest adventure of my life, but hey, that’s what you do for the ones you love. Plus, I have finally found the one person who is willing to provide for me. You think I am going to let a small thing like him running off to the North Pole let him get away?

Not fucking likely. Even Sylvia Brown could have seen that one coming. Well, maybe not from behind the bars.