Secrets of Bearhaven (11 page)

The Weavers' dining room table looked big enough to land a plane on. Wide, cushioned benches surrounded it, making space for at least twenty bears to sit comfortably, and three gleaming beehive-shaped chandeliers hung above, filling the room with a honey-colored light.

Spencer was relieved that Bunny had handed him only nine huge plates to set on the table. He didn't think he could carry even one more of the enormous disks of polished wood.

The plates clattered when Spencer set them down, and Kate jumped out from under the table at the sound.

“Oops,” he said, and looked back at the door to make sure nobody else had heard. “What are you doing under there?” he asked.

She scooted back under the table without answering. A moment later, two extra cushions appeared on one of the benches. “They're for cubs,” she explained, and then looked at him pointedly. “And cub-sized humans.”

Spencer didn't like the idea of having to sit on extra cushions, even if the table was made for bears. He wasn't a baby.

“Go ahead if you don't believe me,” Kate said, waggling a paw at an unbolstered bench. Spencer sat
down and Kate hopped up beside him. She reached her neck forward and rested her muzzle on the table. Spencer burst out laughing. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on the polished wood. Only their heads cleared it.
Extra cushions it is.

Spencer scooted over to settle himself on top of one of the two higher seats that Kate had assembled. His chest and shoulders were now above the surface of the table, and he began to relax, enjoying the feeling that he wasn't quite so out of place in Bearhaven after all.

Just then, Professor Weaver walked into the dining room. “Kate, I believe your mother could use some help in the kitchen.” He took a seat at the head of the table.

Kate hopped down and scooted toward the door. “Okay, I'll tell Jo-Jo and Winston,” she called over her shoulder.

Professor Weaver chuckled. “I think we both know that's not what I meant.”

Kate stopped a few steps from the door.

“I can help, too,” Spencer offered. He wanted to get a glimpse at whatever it was they were having for dinner. If it was grubs or something, he'd need to be prepared.

“No, no, that's okay, Spencer. Kate, go on upstairs. Let's not make our guest prepare his own welcome dinner.”

Professor Weaver looked at his youngest cub warmly, but even through the BEAR-COM Spencer could tell that the professor meant business. Kate huffed and flounced out of the room.

“Your uncle tells me that you enjoy working with technology,” Professor Weaver said, turning back to Spencer and clasping his paws on the table.

“Yeah!” Spencer exclaimed, sounding a bit more enthusiastic than he'd planned.
This is perfect,
he thought, preparing to dig for more information. “I've taken apart this computer for a project at school. I'm supposed to put it back together and give a report on it.” He paused. His schoolwork was definitely going to pile up while he was gone; Ramona and Cheng would have to fill him in on a
lot
when he got back. And he'd have a lot to tell them about Bearhaven, too. Cheng would go nuts hearing about the BEAR-COMs . . . He pulled his thoughts back to the computer project and Professor Weaver, who was looking at him with interest. “Anyway, it took way longer than I expected, because I kept getting stuck looking at every detail. I wanted to figure it all out, you know?”

“I
do
know,” Professor Weaver answered.

“The BEAR-COMs and everything”—Spencer dropped his voice to a whisper—“the Lab wall and the technology there . . . you
made
all of that?”

Professor Weaver laughed. “Not alone, but yes, I developed the BEAR-COM, and even the lab's security, which apparently we need to adjust.” The bear cocked his head and shot Spencer a playfully reprimanding look before continuing. “But the BEAR-COM was before Bearhaven. My mentor and I developed the first version together.”

“You lived at Gutler University, right?”

“Yes, after the first Professor Weaver adopted me,” the bear replied. “I lost my mother to a bear trap in the forest when I was still a cub, no older than Kate, really. I hadn't had much exposure to humans at that point, but I knew that whoever had created the trap had to have a way to open
it once it snapped shut, so in desperation, I figured out the mechanics and released my mother. But she didn't survive, even once I'd gotten her out.”

“I'm so sorry,” Spencer said quietly. His parents had told him lots of stories about the intelligence of bears. He'd loved the fact that they were known to pick locks at zoos and use rocks as tools in the wild, but he'd never considered how their intelligence could be so much like humans', driven by emotions as real as wanting to save their mother.

“It's all right, son,” Professor Weaver said. “It was a very long time ago. I ended up with Professor Weaver, a wonderful mentor, and it all led me here. The professor was doing work in the field at the time and happened upon me. He took me in and raised me as his own. We created the BEAR-COM together, a bit selfishly at first. We thought of ourselves as family, and we wanted to understand each other better, but then we started to realize what the BEAR-COM could do for other bears. If we could communicate, bears and humans that is, perhaps we could avoid so many misunderstandings.” Professor Weaver threw his front paws up in the air. “Can you imagine? The number of bears who could be saved if they could just explain . . . Anyway, your parents came to the professor regarding the mascot situation at Gutler. The rest is history, as they say.”

Before Spencer could ask a single question, bears started piling into the dining room, surrounding Spencer and Professor Weaver in chatter as they filled the seats and covered the table with loads of food.

Aldo plopped down onto the bench beside Spencer. “Pinky might have some glasses at the rehab center that you can borrow,” he said. “I hear your eyes aren't so
dependable
.” Spencer froze. When he'd lied about spotting Kirby on the surveillance screen to escape Aldo earlier that day, he hadn't realized he'd be having dinner with the bear that night. Aldo started to chuckle. “I'm only kidding, little man.” He laughed, seeming to forgive Spencer for the trick. Kate sat on Spencer's other side, also elevated, and took advantage of it by making faces at Jo-Jo and Winston, who sat across the table, a little bit lower without cub cushions.

Beside Jo-Jo and Winston sat Fitch, who introduced himself as Professor Weaver's protégé-turned-son-in-law, an introduction that prompted various comments from the others.

“Pro-té-gé?” Jo-Jo piped up. “Nice try with the fancy talk, Fitch. I thought you were just dad's lowly assistant.” Winston jabbed Fitch in the belly, joining in his brother's teasing.

“And unless I missed the wedding, you're nobody's son-in-law yet,” the bear with a white heart-shaped patch of fur on her chest chimed in from beside Fitch. She winked at Spencer. “Hi, I'm Lisle,” she said. From her size, Spencer
assumed that she was around the same age as Aldo, maybe a little older, but while Aldo's fur was black and tan like Professor Weaver's, Lisle's fur was more like Bunny's, silver and glossy.

“Lisle and Fitch are engaged,” Kate whispered to Spencer.

“It's not a secret, dear,” Bunny said from her seat beside Professor Weaver at the head of the table. She lifted her cup to toast. “It's wonderful to have you with us, Spencer. Welcome.”

“Thanks!” Spencer reached for the massive clay mug that one of the Weavers had set in front of him and lifted it with both hands to cheers. He clunked his mug against Aldo's and Kate's, unable to reach anyone else's across the large table, then raised the mug to his mouth to take a sip.

“Mmm . . . best bug blood of the season!” Winston exclaimed just as the liquid hit Spencer's lips. He coughed and sputtered, spraying the drink onto the table. Jo-Jo and Winston let out streams of boisterous chuffs.

“Boys . . .” Professor Weaver warned in a low voice. Lisle shot Spencer a sympathetic look.

“Don't mind them,” she said. “It's just spring water.”

“Oh. Good!” Spencer blushed and wiped the water off his face. He took a sip to show that he'd recovered.

Aldo leaned a shoulder into Spencer. “Let's get it out of the way now, little man,” he said conspiratorially, and then pointed to a platter on the table. “That's not monster larvae, it's honey-covered salmon.” Pointing to another, he said, “That's not poison ivy, it's mixed spring greens. And so is that one, and that one, and that one.” Now that Aldo mentioned it, Spencer realized most of the platters were heaped with
salad. “Oh,” Aldo went on, “and in the salad, those aren't dead ants, just regular old nuts.”

Spencer stole a glance at Jo-Jo and Winston, who were watching sourly as Aldo ruined their fun.

“And this isn't guts.” Kate raised a pitcher filled with something that Spencer could have easily been fooled into thinking was guts. “It's smashed raspberry dressing.”

“And this isn't—” Aldo started, pointing to the last unidentified platter.

“Okay, okay!” Lisle broke in. “As appetizing as this little game is, I do actually want to
eat
some of this food.”

“Thank you, dear,” said Bunny. “Spencer, that last dish is dandelion mash. Dig in, everyone.”

Aldo and Kate took turns piling a little of each dish onto Spencer's plate, and he wound up with his plate heaped with food. Not that he minded. He was starving.

The Weavers carefully speared their food with their claws or lifted handfuls into their mouths, but Spencer picked up the fork and knife that had been set out for him.
Mom probably left a spoon, too,
he thought, remembering his messy breakfast. As if reading his mind, Kate eyed the silverware suspiciously. After a moment, she shrugged and motioned for Spencer to start eating. He took a bite, then ate ravenously.

Everything was delicious. The salmon was sweet and crispy. The salad had leaves in it that Spencer had never seen before, but was bursting with flavor, sticky from mouth-puckering raspberry dressing. Even the dandelion mash surprised him, creamy and fragrant. Spencer shoveled the food into his mouth, and then looked up to find that at a table full of bears, he was the only one eating like an animal.

“Don't they feed you humans?” Kate giggled. Spencer gulped down a big bite of salmon.

He smiled sheepishly, then realized that this was his chance to change the direction of the conversation. “Aldo, you just joined the Bear Guard, huh?” he asked.

“Yes, he did, and we're so proud of him.” Bunny beamed at her son.

“Cool!” Spencer said. “So what does it take? You know, to make it.”

Aldo took a swig of water. “Well, it's pretty tough. You train for a year. Then there's a test, and even after the year of training, not everyone passes.”

A year?
“What's involved in the—”

“What's on the test?” Kate practically shouted, cutting Spencer off. Spencer almost choked on his salad.
That wasn't very sneaky!

“Oh, you know, lots of physical stuff. Gotta be strong to be on the guard.” Aldo flashed a toothy grin. Jo-Jo and Winston snorted. “Bear Stealth, boulder rolling, tree climbing, that sort of thing,” Aldo went on. “Then there's the tech test, to make sure we can run the security systems.” He cleared his throat. “Top secret stuff, you know. We're also tested on Bearhaven history. Oh, and Rescue Ragayo.”

“Rescue Ragayo?” Spencer squeaked. No wonder bears needed a whole year to learn everything!

“That's right.” Fitch answered for Aldo, whose mouth was full. “Many of the bears outside of Bearhaven speak a simple form of Ragayo. During rescue missions, our operatives have to be able to communicate fluently with them, but it takes a bit of training, if you are used to speaking Ragayo in Bearhaven.”

“Or if you've never spoken Ragayo before,” Professor Weaver added, and smiled at Spencer. “Your parents speak Rescue Ragayo, you know. And Mark.”

Oh, great. That means it's definitely required.
Spencer and Kate exchanged an uneasy look.

“So your Ragayo isn't the same one other bears speak?” Spencer asked.

“It is and it isn't,” said Fitch. “Ragayo is rooted in the sounds that bears make, growls and grunts and so on. Most bears use those growls and grunts in a more basic way than we do because they only need simple words for life in the wild. Here in Bearhaven, though, we've created more words so that we can discuss more complicated things.” He motioned to the room around them. “Our language has gotten more complex as our environment has.”

“It's similar,” Lisle said, “to the way a human toddler can speak compared to the way a human adult can.”

“Can I take Spencer to see the fireflies?” Kate suddenly exclaimed, surprising everyone. Clumsily, she pushed her empty plate away, then did the same with Spencer's half-full one. “We're done eating.” Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but the cub kicked him under the table.

“Please?” he asked the Weavers, sounding as cheerful as possible as he massaged his shin.
This had better be good.