Not Yet Pocket Fuzz

He was a most unexpected surprise…

with battered, skinned ears, little blunt arms tipped up, and the slightest hint of a warm smile. He had one good eye. She took his look for a amiable wink, in this blurred morning made of moments moving far too quickly for the new girl to fully grasp. Her surprise, mixed in a cocktail of uncertainty and freshness, left her with an unbalanced aftertaste.

“I do not understand. Was that a signal or a speck? Perhaps some floating lint”, she reasoned with her right fingers barely touching her chin. Squint. Tilt. With no sound or motion, that furry figure had spanned the distance to invite her. He had calmly welcomed her into this curious classroom.

The new girl…

was still feeling a bit off-center while the others seemed quietly comfortable in the sea of desktops, since they had been immersed in the all-of-it since the end of summer. So, by now, the room’s evocative features, which had been introduced to them for eleven weeks, had mellowed. She, however, had arrived from a colder place that was much higher than the shape of Texas on the sizeable map that hung on chains from the ceiling.

If you are thinking that the map displayed the forty-eight contiguous United States and that contiguous means "adjacent", "bordering", or "neighboring", then you are correct about both. Alaska and Hawaii were pictured in the lower, left corner, in separately owned outlines. And, yes, if you are thinking that confusion could be easily cleared up, then you are right again.

Since her arrival, she had been feeling a bit dizzy, like fabled Dorothy of Kansas behind the black and white screen door before she stepped into a brilliantly colored world. She felt equal parts sensory overload, residual caution, and an instant attraction. Here there was unknown territory for a child with exceptional intellectual development and social maturity.

Her parents had recognized years ago that she was delightfully precocious. Her physical milestones were met smoothly and she mimicked her mother's songs with babbled sounds. She learned words quickly by repeating and pointed at the things she needed to say. Her world became her virtual dictionary and remained as such. Books opened their pages to offer her friendship and she embraced them all.

So it was no surprise that this visual space, this new place, this classroom base fanned her flames of wonderment like a life-size volume. She was hooked.

The bear…

looked old for his size and his appearance offered hints. He was only two knuckles tall and entirely flaxen, like mature corn silk. Medial stitches scarred his face. There were barren pock marks where soft fur had once been. If dingy were a crayon color, he would have defined it.

He moved in unison with the man, under a small awning created by the pant leg pocket-flap that put his glass eye level with their seated faces. It was impossible for a student to miss him, and she smiled in the recognition of what he was up close. Those little bear arms were held forth, that little bear head was tilted askew, and the power of his sensitivity was still a distant blur.

The gentle man…

was, for her, unlike any before him because he was the first gentleman with a classroom. With soft eyes and thin frame, he seemed benign and good-natured, despite his imposing height. She noticed a young, tanned face beneath his dark beard and another subtle feature.

There was a pale pink fault line that swept from his nose to his right ear that might be easy to overlook amidst the trimmed facial hair. “A hero's scar? An injury from some distant brawl?” she wondered, “What danger could have caused it?” She also observed that his eye and mouth were unaffected by the wound.

His hazel glance caught her study of these things, and he cocked his head slightly to reflect her stare. His long-sleeved shirt was a prismatic patchwork that reminded her of a hand-stitched pioneer quilt. And the slightly scuffed white shoes with white laces made another pleasing fashion statement. His voice was also gentle, but firm and it was already clear that he expected much of his young learners.

The bond…

between the girl and the bear grew from neither a noise nor a gesture, but rather his keen glass-eyed gaze upon her. She glanced sideways, with only her eyes at first. Then her head turned to spot him in the pocket on the side of the man’s right thigh. His one ebony eye shined back at hers, his head slightly awry as if he were intent upon hearing. Although he was somewhat shrouded by the pocket flap and not quite half-exposed, he was fully present. He seemed to be waiting for her to notice him again, as the man approached, gesturing as he spoke to his class.

New waves of comfort washed upon the shore of her desktop island as the man and bear waded past her. She enjoyed the fixed observation from her new friend. But was “friend” a stride too soon in a journey that had only just begun?

Perhaps, but she had a strong sense of his care in this space. The bear’s kind countenance was a soft Afghan in a laced lawn chair, beside an open campfire. It was like that certain solace felt in a cold, northern latitude when she was . “Yes, a warm and welcome friend to brighten each next day,” she resolved in this stage of her newness.

And so, they reached an unspoken alliance, these two, and with it came a measure of balance and a charm of subtle smiles. With a nod to the tawny bear and a quiet sigh, her mental drift returned to the comfort of individual seat work. She enjoyed those portions of every school day.

Waves of understanding settled upon the new girl and she would fondly remember that on the very first morning…

…he was a most unexpected surprise.