His Lordship

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I’m Jason L. Secrest, an aspiring author and impoverished college student. Sometimes I blog. When I’m being real about real world things that other people also believe are real I post at wiseyetharmless.bogspot.com. Then there are the moments that I’m also being real, but in regards to a different real world where there is a real annoying talking demon in my basement and where my non-fake butler/valet/gentleman’s-gentleman knows Jujutsu. In those moment’s I’m Jason L. Secrest, Lord of the Manor, and I blog directly to you from my mansion study at whathowadsworth.blogspot.com.

Friday, July 23, 2010

What Bears say when no one is listening.

Before I share the events of the day I wanted to think out loud about something that's bothering me. Those of you who use an RSS reader may not have noticed the comments in my last post. It's alright, you don't need to go look at them. Suffice it to say that Beezle discovered my Blog. I'm not sure how I ought to feel about that...

Assuming extreme optimism, I have one more reader, someone actually posted comments, and I've written something that an ancient evil felt strongly enough about to sit up and take notice - even actively oppose. (I should mention that he found one of my comments on a friend's site wherein I put in a plug for my own blog, and posted a reply publicly denouncing me.)

The thing is, it's really hard to feel optimistic when you feel violated; and I feel violated. I had one form of expression that Beezle did not yet have access to. That made it pure and holy and a great place to vent about him. Beezle found it and did his best to defile it. Something tells me that he's not going to stop. At any rate, I suppose I'll just do my best to ignore him. The last thing I'm going to do is acknowledge him or do anything that might count as "feeding the trolls" (except posting these inflammatory remarks of course). If I'm lucky he'll get bored and find something else to do with his time.

Anyways, I wanted to tell you about something else.

I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when Duncan stopped by for a visit. He doesn't like to come very often. The neighbors get nervous and call Wildlife services. (Duncan is, by the way, a rather large and gruff old grizzly bear.)

It's hard to convince the rangers that Duncan is smarter than the average bear and relatively gentle with people. (Will would argue, he's been on the receiving end of more than a few swats.) Generally, Duncan will get exasperated and tell them politely but frankly to "get the hell away" from him and tend to their own business. Generally after that they feel the need to find a shrink that can tell them that they didn't hear a grizzly bear talk.

By the way, I apologize to those with delicate ears. Duncan is a teddy bear on the inside; but as I mentioned previously, he gruff and cantankerous and fairly free with his 'hell's and 'damn's. I am, however, pleased to inform you that that is as colorful as he gets; and really, to be fair, he tries to keep it to a minimal when in my home.

To get around the park services issues we've tried a few things: cages and costume parties and the like. Once we passed him off as a circus bear - my idea, not his - and when the neighbors heard about it they all sent their kids over to see "Duncan the Wonder-bear". We had to hurry and improvise. I happened to have a clown nose, and we found some tennis balls for him to juggle, and we pulled off an impromptu performance. They loved it. Duncan swore to me afterwards that if I ever pulled that kind of stunt again, he'd eat one of the spectators. Truth be told, he loved the attention, and he loves kids, but that doesn't fit his image, so he complains and I grin for him by proxy.

When I greeted Duncan in the main hallway I said, "You should have told me you were coming. I'd have invited Susan."

Susan is a neighbor kid - seven years old, real cute. She likes to come around every couple of days, bash her eyelashes and ask, "did Wadsworth make cookies today?" Of course, he never has, but he throws together a batch and sets out the tea set for her and her dolly. She also happens to be one of Duncan's favorites.

"Why?" Duncan rumbled as he ambled in, "So she can tug at my fur and poke at my snout when I'm trying to nap? No thank-you."

"Oh, and here I thought that maybe you'd come looking for a small hand to scratch behind your ear."

"Pah!" Duncan said, and he eased down on to the shag carpet, "she's just a little snack waiting to happen."

"You say that every time you see her, but I haven't seen any missing children reports yet."

"I'm just waiting for her to fatten up a little bit. She's all ribs. Not even worth the trouble - yet. Maybe you had better call her over for cookies. Speed up the process."

I grinned. I knew from the start that he wasn't here for my company, so I picked up the phone and dialed. "Hello," I said, when the other side picked up, "Mrs. Lovegood?  Yes. It's Jason Secrest, down the road... Very well, thanks. Yes, everything is dandy. Listen, Wadsworth is making some cookies, and don't know what goes through his head, but he always makes too many. I don't suppose we could borrow Susan and Miss MarySueBee to make a few disappear? Oh, I always get that wrong... How does she say it? Marry-Soup-Bee? Got it. Thanks, you're a life saver. We'll call you when she gets here.  Uh huh. Bye."

From the Lovegood's house, it's a five minute walk to the Mansion, but for short legs and eyes that catch on every butterfly and daffodil it's fifteen in reality. I tugged on the chord that rings Wadsworth in and asked him if he could whip something up and pull out the tea set. He smiled magnanimous and said that he could.

In the meantime, Duncan and I chatted. He told me about his most recent headaches with "Meg the Heg" the resident semi-evil witch that's under his protective jurousdiction, and I told him that i was putting down solar flare for a little while to work on another project.

He snorted and said, "Let me guess, 'you're stuck?'"

I grinned sheepishly and said, "Yeah, I've got this other idea that's really nagging at me and -"

"Huh - you'll never finish a damn thing in your life. It's guys like you that make society crumble - generation 'get me a sandwich mom, and by the way, I'm living in your basement until one of us dies.' If you go a day without your Nintendo, you crack."

"Now wait a minute -" I started to counter, but the doorbell went off, and that was the end of that. Duncan smiled coyly. Talking to bears is strictly off limits when I have company.

Wadsworth got the door, and I phoned Mrs. Lovegood to tell her that her Susan had arrived safely. I almost didn't get the phone down fast enough for Mrs. Lovegood to miss hearing her daughter exclaim, "MR. DUNCAN IS HERE!"

Susan was wearing an enormous ladies hat with a long green feather when she entered, but her bouncing threw it to the floor when she dashed to the bear. She threw out her arms and hugged his great shaggy head. Miss Soupbee dangled by a threadbare doll-arm from one delicate hand, and the other was unintentional jabbing at one of Duncan's tightly closed eyes. I wished I had a camera.

The rest of the day was pleasant. Will shuffled in for long enough to make a tall stack of cookies in his hands and shuffle back out. Beezle was quiet, presumably pirating movies. Susan ignored the tea set, choosing to snuggle up against Duncan's side with her plate of cookies and chatter to him about the things that seven year olds save especially for their favorite bears. Duncan never moved an inch. He just lay there and lazily rolled his eyes to look at her now and again. If it weren't for that, you might have thought he was stuffed. Ever so slowly, a contented smile grew across his muzzle and as the hot afternoon grew into evening, Susan fell asleep on his forearm. He lifted his head and gazed down at her before putting it back down and closing his eyes.

I left them like that until Mrs. Lovegood called to request her daughter back. The ringing of the phone woke Susan up. She sat up slowly with her long blonde hair sticking out in every direction. Wisps of it covered her face. She pulled it back and stretched and said, "Mr. Seacwest?"

"Yes, Susan?"

"Did you know that Mr. Duncan can talk?"

"Oh?" I said. The surprise and interest in my voice were very real.

"Yes. He talks when nobody is here."

"And what does he say when he talks?"

Susan looked at him quietly for a minute. I listened to the soft wheeze of his slow breath, and watched her pat his ribs. Without looking back at me she stated as a mater-of-fact, "He says he loves me."

"You know," I said, "You're absolutely right."


Beezle said...

Lord Secrest,

Your weak attempts at positive thinking endear you to your readers in exactly the same way that vomit appeals to dogs. I'm not sure why they eat it up, but it sicken's me.

It might please you to know that I have not recently been involved in electronic piracy. Rather I have been starting a drug smuggling ring.

Yours truly,


Nathan Major said...

This is your best blog post, by the way.