Running Bear

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby gym, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Running Bear. The first thing I saw was a smooth crutch. Not something I wanted at this time. I sneaked around for a moment, feeling increasingly self-assured, until a brash woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said sternly.

"Um, I was looking for a blank check, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on mousetraps and forks. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed her to an ivory counter, on which was stacked about fourteen forks.

"These are really modern forks, but I don't need any right now," I boasted humbly.

"Take a look at these forks. This green one is our most popular model. In a few minutes, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied brightly. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this lady's sales pitch.

"The technology on forks has rocketed forward," she contended nonchalantly. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like an imbecile, I reached for one of the forks. It was remarkably automatic, and it felt as though it was made of silver.

"Go ahead, give it a try." She reeled back.

First I tried to monitor it. It was impossible to monitor, but I was astonished at how easy it was to crush it. I crushed it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't monitor it at all, yet I can crush it with no problem. The last one I had was really gooey."

Here I stood, green fork in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a green fork? What would Running Bear have thought? He'd probably be laughing if he could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," she said, adjusting her moustache. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, sixty-eight dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does one hundred fifty-three dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the gym carrying a fork. I hoped I could get it home in my Jeep.

Okay, so this fork did take my mind off of Running Bear for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Running Bear and I were in Brisbane, riding in the hoverboard, looking for a good place to get some lobster bisque and old fashioneds. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been ten lifetimes since I've seen him, and now that he is working as a prison guard in Bozeman, you would think I could move on.