The Bear that (supposedly) ate the boy. I'll never forget the time at the Washington Park Zoo when my Uncle Chito told me my cousin Oscar was eaten by a bear.
"How?" I asked.
"Well, he got too close to the edge and the bear grabbed him by the foot," he answered, in his gruff voice.
"Where's the body," I asked. Five-year-olds want details.
"No body left," Uncle Chito continued, as-a-matter-of-factly. "Bear ate him all up."
"Ate him all up," my cousin Dickie chimed in from the swings.
Before he could say anything else, I was running off to the bear pit, not knowing what to expect. I finally got there, panting and all out of breath.
There was no bear to be seen. It was inside its cave sucking on Oscar's bones, I imagined.
I looked for pieces of clothing or blood or something that was left of my cousin. A man with a broom and uniform walked by.
"Where is the bear that ate the boy?" I asked him.
"The what?!" he shouted.
"The bear that ate my cousin Oscar!" I yelled back. "My uncle said a bear ate him up!"
"How?" I asked.
"Well, he got too close to the edge and the bear grabbed him by the foot," he answered, in his gruff voice.
"Where's the body," I asked. Five-year-olds want details.
"No body left," Uncle Chito continued, as-a-matter-of-factly. "Bear ate him all up."
"Ate him all up," my cousin Dickie chimed in from the swings.
Before he could say anything else, I was running off to the bear pit, not knowing what to expect. I finally got there, panting and all out of breath.
There was no bear to be seen. It was inside its cave sucking on Oscar's bones, I imagined.
I looked for pieces of clothing or blood or something that was left of my cousin. A man with a broom and uniform walked by.
"Where is the bear that ate the boy?" I asked him.
"The what?!" he shouted.
"The bear that ate my cousin Oscar!" I yelled back. "My uncle said a bear ate him up!"
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