The Shadow of the Bear: A Fairy Tale Retold

by Regina Doman

  “You’d better not be lying, Denniston,” Mr. Freet’s voice threatened.

  “I’m not hiding anything,” Fish said in an insistent voice.

  “Now, that was easy, wasn’t it, Benedict? There was no need for you to go through these three days of beatings and starvation. All I had to do was drag a pretty girl in here and threaten to suffocate her with a plastic bag. Thus we see that those who have morals are eventually defeated by those who have none.” Mr. Freet came forward, still twisting the plastic bag in his hands. “Now answer the next question quickly: where can I find your brother?”

  “I don’t know,” Fish said guardedly. “Don’t you touch her again, Freet. I mean it. Bear probably took off when he discovered I was missing. I haven’t the least idea where you can find him.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” Mr. Freet said softly.

  “Try St. Lawrence Church. He has the keys for it, just like I do. Or the old warehouse on Inwood Avenue. But more than likely, he’s wandering around checking out all the drug hideouts to see if I’m there. That’s probably where you’d find him,” Fish said, his voice filled with disgust but his face exposing his anguish.

  He’s betrayed Bear to save me, Rose thought, and tears suddenly came to her eyes. “Fish, I’m so sorry!” she wailed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Fish said evenly.

  “Oh, he’s not telling me anything I don’t already know,” Mr. Freet sneered. “The keys to St. Lawrence are in my possession now, and I’ve used them well. What you may not know is that I also have the keys to the tunnel connecting the church with the school. That came in handy a long time ago, when Fr. Raymond was polishing his treasures in the sacristy one night. It might come in handy for trapping your older brother as well.”

  The silence was broken by a faint beeping sound. Rose turned her head and saw Mr. Freet kneel down beside a suitcase in the corner and open it. He took out a radio device and showed it to Fish, smiling.

  “You see, I’ve recently done to St. Lawrence what Fr. Raymond should have done a long time ago—set an alarm system on all the doors. Apparently Bear has gotten the message I’ve been passing along through my various drug channels to meet me in St. Lawrence tonight.”

  Before Blanche realized it, the cab had halted in front of her house. She paid the driver. Getting out of the cab, her knees felt shaky. She stumbled up the front steps and opened the door with difficulty. Laughing numbly, she thought, at least I’ll have a story to tell Rose.

  But when she opened the door and called, there was no answer. The rooms echoed strangely, and suddenly a wave of fear swept over her. She ran upstairs, downstairs. No one was there.

  There were no messages on the machine, no notes. Feeling more and more doubtful, she grabbed the phone and dialed the number at the hospital. She asked for the emergency room and stood, twisting her fingers in the cord anxiously.

  “Is Jean Brier there?” she asked the nurse who answered.

  “Sorry, ma’am—she just left. Not more than a minute ago.”

  “Oh,” Blanche trembled. She wanted to ask the nurse to run out in the parking lot and find her, to make sure that Mother came straight home instead of going out to do her usual errands. But—

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the nurse said again.

  “That’s okay,” Blanche said. Maybe it was something silly—Rose had run out to the store and had forgotten to leave a note. She hung up the phone and collapsed onto the couch.

  Her eyes fell on the package Bear had given her, which she had left carelessly on the table, a package wrapped in duct tape. She seized it and held it, for fear it would vanish in thin air. What was it?

  Bear hadn’t said she couldn’t open it. Shaking, she picked at the duct tape. It had been wrapped a long time ago, and she had a hard time getting the tape off. She ripped off piece after piece. Eventually, she heard the sound of paper tearing, and peeled faster. There was brown paper under the tape, and then plastic bags—

  She dug her way through the grey plastic mass and at last her fingers touched metal. Then, quite easily, a heavy, round, golden plate slid into her fingers.

  She blinked and rolled it from hand to hand. It was incredibly magnificent, glistening and sparkling, engraved all over with the most intricate designs. In the center of its bowl was a lamb, inlaid with ivory and silver, with blue stones for eyes, and a halo of tiny rubies around its head.

  She continued to roll it from one hand to another, marveling at how it caught the light and threw it back on her face with holy laughter. She found herself smiling in strange amusement as she turned it over and around, feeling its heavy, splendid weight, drinking in its beauty. One of Father Raymond’s treasures.

  Now she held it still, gleaming and responsively warm in her hands. This must have been the treasure that Father Raymond was killed for.

  All at once, the fears she had temporarily forgotten in her childish play came rolling back over her. Bear. Oh dear God, what horrible errand did he have at St. Lawrence’s?

  Rose couldn’t move. She felt sweat crawling along her bare arms down towards the ropes on her wrists. Fish sagged against the pillar, looking drained, sucked dry. Apparently he had lost hope for Bear now. More than anything, she wanted to cry.

  Mr. Freet rose. “Well, while it would be useful to keep both of you alive in case I need to do more interrogation, I’m afraid two prisoners are simply more than I can handle.”

  He looked from one to the other, musing. Her throat going dry, Rose guessed what he was going to do.

  “If you have to kill one of us, kill me,” Fish said, with an edge to his voice.

  “Naturally, that’s how you’d feel, Benedict,” Mr. Freet said mildly. He pulled out a pair of leather gloves and began to put them on.

  Rose said nothing, afraid of influencing Mr. Freet the wrong way. She moistened her lips, and waited.

  “Freet, you’d better not touch her,” Fish said wildly as Mr. Freet took a step towards Rose.

  “It’s all right,” Rose said softly. If she hadn’t been there, it would have been Fish whom Mr. Freet would have killed. Mr. Freet picked up a roll of duct tape and began to toy with it musingly.

  “Come on, Freet, I know you’ve been dying to get rid of me. Think how happy it’ll make you. You hate me so much,” Fish said coaxingly, but Rose could see the sweat standing out on his forehead.

  Mr. Freet ripped off a piece of duct tape and advanced on Fish with a grim smile. “Exactly,” he whispered as he pressed it over the boy’s mouth.

  Then he turned, picked up the plastic bag, and walked over to Rose.

  Fish yelled something incomprehensible through the tape. Rose looked into Mr. Freet’s eyes once more, and saw that he seemed strangely agitated by her gaze. For a moment, there was the barest pause. She was conscious that she was not afraid, and that because she wasn’t, Mr. Freet was. Feeling his hesitation and not wanting him to change his mind, she bowed her head. She heard the rip of duct tape being torn from the roll. His leather-covered fingers pressed the tape over her mouth fiercely, and she yielded, taking a deep breath. There was a pause, then he pulled the plastic bag over her head and began to tape it around her neck.

  But the men signed of the cross of Christ go gaily in the dark…

  She dimly heard Fish screaming against his gag and tearing at his bonds as Mr. Freet left the room and pounded up the stairs.

  Chapter 19

  BLANCHE SAT on the couch, staring blankly at the white light of the living room window, unable to think or pray. Bear must be at St. Lawrence by now. What could be happening to him?

  If only Mother would come home. She was strong. If only Rose would come home. Her sister was full of fire and courage. She would know what to do. She was the active one. All Blanche could do was sit still, and fear.

  She had no idea how long she sat there, her body poised in the act of waiting—for someone to come. For anyone to come.

  The jangle of the phone shocked her body into le
aping to its feet. Her brain was still murky. She realized she had been in a stupor almost like sleep for at least a half hour.

  Shaking, she reached for the phone on the coffee table.

  “Hello?” she said cautiously.

  “Is this Blanche Brier?” a man’s strange voice said.

  “Who is this?” She was instantly terrified.

  “Your friend Bear and I are at St. Lawrence. Bear’s decided it would be better for all of us if you brought the package he gave you over here.”

  Blanche could not mistake the threat behind the words. All the breath was knocked out of her.

  “By the way, he made this decision when he realized that I have your sister in a safe place. I think you’d better bring the package over here right away. Oh, incidentally, don’t try calling the police. If anyone else but you comes to the church, things could become very unpleasant for your sister.”

  Blanche struggled to say something, but no sound came out.

  “I’ll expect you to leave it in the church vestibule within the next fifteen minutes. If there’s any conflict—well, remember what happened to Father Raymond.”

  A dial tone rang loudly in her ear. Blanche sank to the floor, holding onto the coffee table with both hands. She mustn’t faint now, she musn’t!

  When at last her head cleared, she looked at the face of the grandfather clock. Her mother wasn’t yet home. Who knew when she would be back?

  There wasn’t time. There simply wasn’t time. With shaking hands, Blanche picked up the paten and pushed it back inside its torn wrappings. There was no time. She felt as though she had dropped out of that whole continuum as she mechanically went to the door, opened it, and shut it tightly behind her.

  Mr. Freet was no sooner out of the house when Fish had begun kicking at his untied shoes. In a few seconds he had one off, and began wriggling his foot loose of the ankle bonds. With his free foot, he clawed at the other shoe, kicked it off, and tried to yank his second foot free. He glanced at Rose. She was very still, and seemed to be doing her best to hold her breath, but he knew she would run out of air soon.

  At last Fish had both feet out of the ropes. He braced himself against the pillar and kicked at the stool until he succeeded in shoving it out from beneath him. He stood up, and as he had hoped, the ropes around his chest were looser. Apparently, they had been coming loose from all of his struggling. Breathing hard, he began to saw up and down on the ropes, yanking them tightly as he dared. At last, to his relief, he felt them slipping down his arms. One knot must have come loose! Thanking all the saints and angels, he shrugged his shoulders, trying to force one arm free.

  His wrists were openly bleeding but Fish struggled with renewed intensity. Rose wasn’t struggling, just sitting calmly, as though waiting for him. Or for death. Fish didn’t want to know which would come first.

  At last, one elbow was free, and he jerked his arm up, almost dislocating his wrist. Calm down get at the knots. He tried getting his face down to his wrist, contorting his neck and back in the process. Try again. This time, he was able to grab the edge of the tape across his mouth. He yanked hard, and with a blistering rip, the tape came loose. Now he seized the knot on his wrist with his teeth and jerked, painfully wrenching his back. The knot loosened. Two more yanks with his teeth, and it came undone.

  Desperately, Fish used his free hand to pull off the ropes, but still he was tied to the pillar by one arm. Feverishly he worked at the last knot. His fingers seemed to stumble now, as he saw her head drop down, saw her shoulders heave. She was beginning to struggle for breath. Forever. Forever. The knot would not yield. Sweat was running down his face freely. “Oh, come on!” he begged the knot. “Come on!”

  Suddenly, as though yielding to Fish’s voice, the knot gave. He pulled the last rope loose and sprang across the room to Rose, stumbling as he went. In terror, now, seeing her face was blue, he seized the plastic bag and tried to rip it open. His nails were too dull—he couldn’t make a tear in it. He seized the corner of the bag with his teeth, and tore off a piece, biting a few strands of hair with it in his fury. He shoved his fingers inside and ripped the plastic bag in two, pulling it off her face.

  Her hair and face were damp from her near-suffocation, and her chest heaved even after she was free, as she tried to fill her lungs with air. He ripped off the tape from her mouth, wrapped his arms around her, and pushed her chest in, forcing her lungs to work. She choked, gagging, and finally slumped forward, breathing normally at last.

  Fish now had trouble untying the ropes on her wrists and ankles, but eventually the last bit of cord came loose and she collapsed onto the floor. He gathered her into his arms, watching her breathing and wiping her face with the back of his hand.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her anxiously.

  Her eyes focused on him, and she nodded slowly. His tightly drawn lips relaxed a little. They stung, and he realized some skin had come off with the tape.

  She looked at him in bewilderment. “You escaped?”

  “I’m not called Fish for nothing,” he said with his crooked smile.

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head drop into his lap. Fish looked around the cellar, and said, almost to himself, “I hate to say it, but we’re as good as dead if he comes back here.”

  The paten was in Blanche’s hands. The sun was half-sunk in darkening clouds. She walked. The world continued to stand still around her. The darkness had swallowed Bear. And Rose. Father was dead. Mother was not here. There was no one left but her.

  Blanche walked straight ahead. There was only one thing she must do, and that was to leave the paten right inside the church doors. The paten that Father Raymond had died to protect. And maybe Bear, now, too. She was going to give it to the man whom they had tried to protect it from. She would do that. After that, nothing else mattered.

  Oh God, she called out softly inside. God.

  She continued to walk.

  The men signed of the cross of Christ go gaily.

  In the dark.

  The shadows were getting longer, even though the sun was far from setting. The towers and spire of St. Lawrence came into view. They separated themselves from the other buildings around it, and rose above the square ugly block of St. Catherine’s. Her legs seemed to become very heavy and she came to a stop.

  I’m just a china doll. I can’t do anything.

  Her heart had frozen long ago and turned her flesh to stone.

  I can’t move or I’ll break.

  It would be very simple. All she had to do was leave the paten and walk away. She never needed to go back.

  It was too frighteningly easy.

  Go gaily in the dark.

  I can’t smile. How can you go forth gaily if you can’t smile?

  She tried to make her legs cross the last street. Slowly, very slowly as though her legs were waking up from a deep sleep, Blanche pushed on.

  She walked past St. Catherine’s. She reached the doors of the church and stopped. She looked up at the spires, black against a cloudy sky.

  Oh God I can’t. Not even this. Please, send someone else.

  There is no one else.

  She continued to stand there, frozen, as all the fears she had ever experienced in her life came rushing down upon her. She swayed, stumbled, and steadied herself.

  It would be easier to faint.

  It was wrong, it was wrong. The universe was grossly unjust. Father Raymond had tried to do good, and he had been murdered. Bear and his brother had tried to protect his treasures, and they were lost. Rose—where was she? Was she still alive? Why were things this way? You tried to do the right thing and were slapped in the face.

  Rose was wrong. If life was really a fairy tale, it was a sick one. Where the ogre gobbled up everyone in the end. She clenched the paten in her hands and felt nauseous.

  I have nothing. I have nothing.

  She trembled there, feeling her utter insignificance against the dark evil inside the abandoned church. It w
as wrong of God to let her be the only one left. Why not Rose? Rose would have gone into the church singing in the dark.

  She took a step, and realized she had decided.

  But I am going into the church, too.

  She was going in, but not to surrender.

  Rose regained consciousness with a jolt and lifted her head. Fish instantly supported her shoulders. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  Rose leaned on him and climbed to her feet unsteadily. “We’ve got to get out of here. Bear—”

  “Yeah, I know.” Fish scrambled up and helped her stand. “Can you walk okay?”

  “I think so—” Rose took a step and leaned against the pillar for support. “So you’re Bear’s younger brother?”

  “Yes,” he acknowledged. “And, you’re one of my brother’s young lady friends.”

  Rose wondered what he meant by that, but there were more pressing things to think about at the moment. She looked around their confines.

  “He’s got locks on the cellar door,” Fish said. “It’s probably hopeless.”

  “Doesn’t he have any tools down here?” Rose cast a glance around at the chalices and treasure.

  “I doubt it. He wouldn’t be so silly as to leave us a screwdriver or a lever.”

  “Then there’s nothing we can do?” Rose blinked back tears suddenly and felt as though she were going to collapse back onto the floor. For a moment, she actually gave up.

  “Hold on, don’t faint or anything. Just sit down again.” Fish dragged forward the chair she had been tied to and made her sit down. “So how’d you find me here anyhow?”

  She knew he was trying to distract her, and she let herself be distracted. “I followed Mr. Freet, like I said before—” Her voice was shaking and she rubbed away tears from her eyes and tried to calm down. “I listened at the basement windows and I heard him beating someone—”

  Something changed in Fish’s expression. “There are windows in this basement?”