The scene is a typical working bear’s house. Standing in it between dining room and living room, a distraught bear family, and three cops moving about the space slowly, looking at the many objects and arrangements once so familiar to the owners but now altered by these intrusions. The cops’ walkie-talkies issue various blasts and beeps. There’s a mess including bowls of food on the dining table. One of the cops picks up a bowl between two fingers, looks at it, puts it down again. At the far end of the space in the living room a TV is on but silent, the remote on the floor in front of it. The cop who appears to be in charge lifts his walkie-talkie, calls in.
Dispatch this is 17, over, he says
Go ahead 17, over.
Yeah, uh, dispatch we seem to have a father bear mother bear baby bear situation at 42 elmont, over, says the cop.
Roger 17, please stand by…..
Dispatch comes back: 17, do you have any information about a blond female in that area, over?
Cop looks at the father and mother bear. They shake their heads.
That’s negative dispatch, over.
Dispatch: Is it a two storey house, over?
That’s affirmative, over.
Dispatch: Sergeant recommends you search bedrooms, over.
Roger dispatch. Will do. Over.
Two cops go upstairs and come back in short order behind a handcuffed naked blond woman, small, tousled, defiant. She’s a real blond, all notice. The cops confer briefly with the lead cop, then push the blond woman out the front door. The mother bear has her hand over her mouth. The baby bear is staring intently at the lead cop’s gun, which is dangling near the baby bear’s face. The father bear speaks briefly to the lead cop.
Where was she? he says.
She was in the kid’s room, the cop says. You’ll want to clean up in there. Change the sheets.
Sure, the father says. Sure. He’s trying to pull himself together and process what’s happened.
The cop says, she, uh, she was at some point in all three beds up there. His and the two in your room.
The father bear looks alarmed.
Nothing was damaged, the cop says.
Well thank god for that, the father bear says.
You and your wife, the cop says in a low voice. You sleep in separate beds?
The father bear looks down, back up, says nothing.
Never mind, the cop says. None of my business. He turns toward the door.
We’ll be in touch, he says.
Thank you, the mother bear says. The father bear repeats it. The cop steps away, but the baby bear’s hand has gotten hold of the top of his gun. The cop takes baby bear’s hand off his weapon.
Don’t touch that kid, he says. Never touch that.