Teddy's Bear
Mark A Davis
221
221
"Have a go, Sir?" the carny asked. He tossed three baseballs in the air, juggling them expertly. "Three balls for a buffalo nickel, my friend! Such a bargain you will not find anywhere else on these fairgrounds! Get one ball in the hole, win a kepwie doll. Three times, you win a stuffed teddy bear. These bears are the genuine article, my good man, made by Morris Michtom's Ideal Novelty and Toy Company to commemorate the little bear cub which President Teddy Roosevelt refused to kill. Accept no substitutes! Why, your pretty girlfriend would look simply smashing with a stuffed Teddy's bear in her arms, and no mistake! Three balls in the hole! Surely a strapping young lad like yourself can manage such a simple task!"
Behind the barker was a long alleyway. At the far end a blue canvas blanket hung down, with a small black hole in the center. A nearby table was piled high with small bisque dolls -- the naked children with the pointed hair on top that everyone recognized as kewpies from the Rose O'Neil illustrations -- and several mohair teddy bears with jointed arms, legs, and head, felt paws and glass eyes.
A brass band nearby was playing a sprightly marching tune -- The Gallant Seventh, John Philip Sousa's most recent composition. Men in suits and women in long dresses strolled the fairgrounds, munching on popcorn and roasted peanuts. It was a brilliant, sunny day.
The young man said, "It weren't no bear cub."
The barker frowned. "Come again?"
"I said it weren't no bear cub that Roosevelt refused to kill," insisted the young man. "It was a full grown bear."
The barker forced a smile. "Listen, Kid, what we have here is a teddy bear made by the company that made the first teddy bear. It's cute and cuddly, facts that are certain to please your lady friend. Now, it's three balls for a nickel, are you in or not?"
"Yeah, okay," the young man said. He tossed a nickle onto the counter.
"A fine choice, a fine choice!" the barker exclaimed, handing over three baseballs. "Now, if you'll take my advice, aim carefully...."
Before he could even finish, the young man had hurled the first ball. It sailed cleanly through the hole. "Oh, Paul, nice throw!" the young girl exclaimed.
"Nicely done, Sir, nicely done!" said the barker. "That's the ticket! Why, you're a regular Cy Young! You could pitch for the Brooklyn Robins with an arm like that and no mistake!"
"Do you mean the Trolley Dodgers?" asked the young man.
"Some call them that, some do," said the barker. "Now, one successful throw is worth a kewpie doll." He held up one of the figurines. "Let's see you do it twice more, and win your bird a teddy bear!"
"Oh yes, Paul!" the woman said. "Do it!" The young man tossed again, striking the hole in the center. Once again he appeared to do this casually, as if not even taking aim.
The barker's eyes narrowed. "Say..." he said. "Don't I know you? You're that young boy who fought alongside that Gentleman Brawler, aren't you? Of course you are! Little Pauley Pugilist! The crime fighter's sidekick!"
"It's Kid Anarchy now," the young man replied. "The Gentleman Brawler is dead."
"Quite right," the barker replied. "So, you're on your own now?"
The young man did not reply. He studied the target carefully, took aim -- and threw the baseball squarely at one of the teddy bears. It flew off the table and rolled on the ground.
"Here now," said the barker, "you're supposed to throw at the hole, not at the bear...." As he spoke, the bear climbed to its feet. Its eyes glowed red.
"Curse you, Kid Anarchy!" the bear growled. "Curse you to the depths below! How did you spot me?"
"Call it a knack," the young man said. "You radiate evil."
The bear sprung forward, hatred in its beady eyes. The young man punched it, knocking it to the ground. "Wait!" the barker exclaimed. "What's going on?"
The bear produced a straight razor. "Gonna gut you like a fish!" it snarled, launching into the air again over the table. Kid Anarchy spun, and his foot struck the bear's paw, knocking the razor away. Kid Anarchy leaped over the barrier and rolled in the dirt, grappling with the toy bear.
"Paul!" the woman exclaimed. The young man threw the bear to one side and rolled in the other. The woman threw her arms forward. Flames shot from her outstretched palms. In seconds the bear -- and half of the carnival stand -- was on fire.
The teddy bear screamed -- an inarticulate wail, like that of a real person afire. It stumbled about and collapsed. A crowd gathered, but the bear was already clearly dead. Only the carnival barker and the young man and woman had actually seen it move. Several men helped put out the fire. After checking the ashes of the toy, Kid Anarchy and the woman turned to go.
"Hey!" the barker exclaimed. "Who's going to pay for this damage?"
The woman turned on him. She held up the flyer -- it was a wanted poster, depicting a teddy bear with glowing eyes. "Good Sir," she said, "this toy has been terrorizing the children of this town at night for the past several days. Do you want me to inform fathers and mothers of this area that you were harboring a demonic stuffed bear?"
"Well that's..." the barker stammered. "I mean that's not... I had no idea!"
"Exactly," the woman said. "Which is why we will not be pressing charges. Good day, Sir!"
The two disappeared into the crowd. The barker looked from the bear, burned beyond all recognition, to the ruins of his carnival stand. "What just happened here?" he asked, of no one in particular.
***
"And?" asked the Princess of Purple Prose, current sidekick to Grandpa Anarchy. "Is that the entire tale? You and your companion fought a demonic teddy bear and it was consumed in a fire?"
"What more do you want?" Grandpa replied. "You asked for a tale from when I was Kid Anarchy. I gave you one."
"Fair enough," replied the woman in the purple gown. She stood and walked to Grandpa's desk. The two were in Grandpa's study on the second floor of the Anarchy Mansion. "Still, this certainly explains why you have got this kewpie doll on this shelf above your desk. I have been wondering about it since first I saw it. These were once quite popular, were they not?" Her hand reached out for the small bisque doll, but drew back quickly as it's eyes flared red.
"Foolish mortal!" the doll exclaimed. "Touch me and die!"
"Thing is," said Grandpa, "Lady Prometheus didn't know how to banish the darned thing, so it just possessed the next nearest doll. But those old kewpie dolls don't have moving parts, so it's stuck. I've been keeping watch over it ever since...."
"But one day I shall be free of this intolerable prison!" the doll exclaimed, "and on that day, you, Kid Anarchy, shall perish!"
FINI
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