Blue Bear

The best part of Saturday morning is going to Grandma’s house while Mom is at work. Her house always smells like apple pie. Last week she made us French toast fingers with strawberry syrup in little blue and white bowls.

We have a whole room just for watching TV and she doesn’t care if we watch cartoons like Mom and Dad do. Plus, she always makes Bobby watch shows me and Blue Bear want to watch, too. Blue Bear is stinky like my older brother Bobby is and always picks the cartoons with fighting scenes.

That’s why that old lamp jumped off the table last week.

Grandma says my maturity is growing. Maybe that’s what knocked over her lamp. Mom says that I’m a big boy and no more blaming Blue Bear for my actions. I tried to tell her Grandpa knows it isn’t my fault because Blue Bear Bazooka is the only way I can use the giant rubber band we found in the driveway.

And now we are late for Grandma’s again this week. We are going to miss all the best cartoons. And Grandpa will feed the bunnies without me, and he always forgets their carrots. The silver dollars are going to be cold and the butter won’t melt. This is the worst Saturday ever.

“Mom, tell grandma not to make the silver dollars yet!” I yell to Mom from my kitchen chair, tapping my spoon against the side of my strawberry yogurt cup.

I can’t believe Mom thinks it's my fault Blue Bear is missing this time. I told her he is stinky. He is always saying mean things about other people. I bet he got Bobby to hide him on purpose.

I left him in the kitchen on the floor beside my chair. I remember I did because that’s what I always do. Bobby must have moved him because he is always trying to get me in trouble.

“I looked everywhere!” I rock my chair until it knocks against the kitchen table, so everyone knows this is an emergency.

“Moooom,” I yell once more.

“Check your room, hon, quick.” Mom says coming into the kitchen with that smile in her voice she gets when she wants to laugh.

“Nothing is funny.” I mumble under my breath as I get up.

“Blue Bear is gone and no one cares,” I yell from the bottom step.

“I know he isn’t up there!” I stomp up the next couple stairs extra loud, so my brother knows this is his fault. He must have moved him. Just like he moved Grandma’s lamp into my way last week.

I jump to the next step with both feet. If Blue Bear is gone forever, Bobby will have to admit to Mom that he did it. Then she will have to apologize for laughing! Even Dad will make her say she is sorry.

I stomp extra hard on the top step. It echoes like a drum across the living room, and the ceiling fan makes it sound all wobbly. Mom calls them vaulted ceilings. I don't know where the lock is, but they sound like the big drum Bobby plays at school.

I hope Blue Bear did not get stuck inside.

“Moooooom!” I scream from my messy room. “Blue Bear is not here! I told you so! Bobby must have moved it!”

I stomp down the hall twice as hard. I told them it wasn’t up here. Mom will finally have to see how unfair it is to have an older brother who steals your things. Mom will have to punish him this time, I thought.

Stomping on the top step, I freeze. Is that laughing?

“I thought I said this wasn't funny!” I scream and thunder down the steps, the ceiling fan whirling off balance.

I skid to a stop in the kitchen. There they are, standing in front of the refrigerator laughing and eating pudding.

“Are you kidding me? No one is looking for Blue Bear? And you are eating my chocolate pudding?” I can smell it from the doorway.

“Let’s go, Jack. Bobby, lock the door behind you.”

“Mom, I will be right there. I forgot something.” Bobby runs into the living room.

“Blue Bear is missing and you ate without me?” I yell as mad tears fill my eyes. “Bobby gets everything. I think we should call Grandma.”

“Car, Jack, now. I can’t be late again. Blue Bear will be here when you get back. You can tell Grandma all about it.”

“What! I can’t believe you are going to let Bobby get away with stealing Blue Bear and blame me for being late.” I stare angrily at my brother’s retreating form.

“Let’s gooo!” Mom yells.

I can't believe this! Blue Bear was stolen, they ate a snack without me, and mom yelled at me for no reason. And I’m in trouble? If Dad were here, he would be on my side.

Picking up my green race car off Mom’s white floor, I tuck it in my pocket. Grandma will hear about this. She will listen to reason. This is why I need my own phone. Blue Bear is always on the floor beside my kitchen chair. She will know it's not my fault we are late. She won’t let Bobby blame me for missing the good cartoons.

“I thought we were a family!” I scream as I push open the door to the dark garage as the light flickers on. “How can you just leave Blue Bear behind like he doesn't even matter? It’s all your fault he ran away.”

She is blaming me and it is Bobby who is really making us late? Angry at the injustice, I climb into the back of Mom’s SUV and settle into my car seat, mumbling.

“I get blamed for everything! Bobby lost Blue Bear and I didn’t get any chocolate pudding.”

Mom slides into her seat as the radio guy’s voice announces 8:45 a.m. Turning to make sure I am buckled in, the garage door rolls up behind her and sunshine floods the garage and the SUV.

“I brought you a juice box.” Mom offers, smiling.

I stare at her hand suspiciously. It’s my favorite apple raspberry juice box. It even already has the little straw in it. Tears well in my eyes as I look at her.

“I am sorry we couldn’t find Blue Bear. We will look for him tonight, okay, honey?” My mom’s voice soothes my angry heart. Well, maybe she cares a little.

Just then, Bobby opens the passenger door with one arm behind his back, smiling proudly. “Ok, brat. I am the winner. Say it.”

“Moooom!” I scream. How can she let him treat me this way, at a time like this?

“Bobby!” Mom yells as she fastens her seat belt.

“Sorry, Mom.” Bobby grins back at me. “I got you something.”

I stick out my tongue.

Bobby laughs, pulling his arm from behind his back. “Surprise!”

“Blue Bear!” I snatch him from Bobby’s hands as soon as I see my bear’s blue stitched eyes staring back at me.

“You found him!” Mom cheers.

“He was behind the couch.” Bobby smiles with pride.

“You are the best big brother there is! I knew you would find him!” I hug Blue Bear’s strawberry-syrup-stained body, still sticky from last week. I know he doesn’t like that. Big boys don’t snuggle, Blue Bear says. Bobby says that Blue Bear is just a bear and doesn’t know what he is talking about. Blue Bear smells like Grandma’s house.

My stomach growls. Now I want chocolate pudding, and I can’t stop smelling it.

Mom turns around and stares at me and Blue Bear, her eyes twitching. Her voice low, like when she gets real mad and Dad has to whisper in her ear, she sighs, “I mean it, Jack, Blue Bear, better not be stinky at Grandma’s this time. Or next weekend we will leave him at home on purpose.”

I stare at Mom, my cheek pressed to Blue Bear’s, sucking on my juice box straw.

I whisper into Blue Bear’s ear before answering for both of us. “We promise, Mom. Really, this time.”