Flo and Mo Feed the Bears

by Sarah Matanah

Sleet dripped onto Flo’s nose. It was early morning. She and Mo were huddled together under a rock ledge. Mo was hogging all the space—like usual. She gave him a shove and pulled her nose in.

“Stop it, Flo,” Mo said. He blew flame at a clump of grass just outside their shelter. It smoked a little and became singed and wet instead of just wet.

“You should give me more room,” Flo said. “If you hadn’t broken that chest, Mama D wouldn’t have kicked us out.”

“You were the one who wanted to play tackle tag, so don’t act all goody-goody,” Mo said.

Flo could have argued with that, but it seemed like too much effort. She watched the sleet. There must be somewhere they could go or someone to visit.

“Bear has a den,” she pointed out.

Mo flamed again, but of course nothing caught. “You saw her dig that. It hardly fits her and the cubs. If we tried to get in there, they’d be flattened. Besides, they’re sleeping now.”

“Not for long,” Flo said. “It’s almost spring. They must be just waking up. Let’s go visit.”

“Not me,” Mo said. “I hate flying in sleet. Anyway, bears are grumpy when they wake up. Everyone knows that.”

“So we’ll bring a present. We’ll bring pie. Bear loves pie. I’m going. You can stay here and have all the dryness to yourself.”

Flo hadn’t even flown twenty wing-lengths before she heard Mo behind her, pumping hard to catch up. She pushed harder, ignoring the sleet that dripped into her ears.

By the time they were halfway to Bear’s home, the sleet had stopped.

Flo landed in a town that looked like it would probably have a nice big bakery. She wanted to get a lot of pies. She was a little afraid that Mo might be right and the bears would be grumpy. A lot of pies might help.

People screamed and ran away when she landed. She paid no attention. They always did that. She sniffed the air, smelled sugar and yeast, and followed the smell.

The bakery was painted pink. It was as big as Flo had been hoping. She and Mo were able to walk right in the door, only scraping a little paint off the doorframe. Before she had even got her head in, two men wearing floppy white hats started shouting. One of them threw a wooden spoon at her. She set it on fire while it was still in the air and then blew it away. They screamed and ran. Flo was rather proud of herself. It had been an impressive trick.

Inside the bakery the rich, sweet smell was almost thick enough to eat. Even if Bear was grumpy, it would be worth flying through the sleet just to be surrounded by that smell. Flo stuffed a soft chocolate-covered custard donut into her mouth and chewed on that while she piled pies into her arms from the bottom shelf of the display case. It was hard to figure out a way to carry more than three without squishing them. There was a lot of yelling outside the bakery.

“Mo, help me,” she said.

Mo had two jelly donuts in his hands and jelly squirting out of the side of his mouth.

“One second,” he mumbled through the donut.

“Call the fire department!” she heard someone shout outside.

“We need a spear—no, a rope—no, a cannon!” someone else called.

“We might have to set the bakery on fire.”

“Now, Mo!” Flo snapped.

Mo pushed the donuts in his hands into his mouth. Jelly squirted over his chest and the edges of his wings as well as his mouth. He grabbed two more pies.

As soon as Flo started back out the door, a bunch of things came flying at her head, mostly rocks, but also a bucket, some shoes and boots, and a few logs. She managed to get her wings up in time to protect both her face and her pies.

“Watch out, Mo!” she called. She flamed around her. The people just backed up and kept throwing things, but at least their aim wasn’t as good from farther away. Mo got out without getting hit.

Bear’s den wasn’t easy to find, but they’d come to visit her while she’d been digging it the year before and knew what to look for. It was on the north side of the mountain, under a fallen tree. They landed on the still frozen ground with a crunching sound that echoed in the silence around them.

Flo scraped some snow away from the front of the den. “Bear, are you in there? Are you awake? We brought pies!”

Bear’s muzzle poked out of the entrance she’d dug under the tree. She blinked at Flo. “Did you say you brought pies?” she asked. She looked at the pie, and her half-closed eyes suddenly opened wide. She swatted the pie out of Flo’s hands and stuffed her snout into its center. “Cubs,” she called. “Come out here. You won’t believe this!”

Two sleepy cubs climbed out of the den. They sat with a pie between them and took turns swiping at it and licking their paws. The bears had eaten the centers out of all five pies before they even looked at Flo and Mo again.

“I’m sorry,” Bear said. “Would you like some pie?”

They weren’t nearly so appealing without their centers.

“No thanks,” Flo said. “We brought them for you.”

Bear nodded, peeled the crust out of the pie tin, and sat back to eat it.

Flo was glad the bears were so enthusiastic about eating the pies, but she wished they’d be a little friendlier.

The little bears finished their pies and started a wrestling match on Flo’s back. Their claws tickled in the gaps between her scales.

Bear ate the last bit of crust off of a claw. “Thanks for the pie,” she said. “I’ve never woken up to anything so delicious in my life. I appreciate it. However, there are a few things that need to be taken care of after seven months of sleep. So I’ll say good-bye now. If you’ll excuse me—” She wandered off down the mountain. The cubs slid down Flo’s ribs and followed her.

Mo looked at her. Flo felt disappointed and a bit foolish.

“Let’s go back home,” Flo said. “They’ll let us back in the cave again now, don’t you think? We can apologize together.”

“I will,” Mo said. “It wasn’t really your fault.”

On the flight back Flo said, “They did like the pie though. Don’t you think? It was just what you said, that they’re grumpy when they wake up.”

“Yeah,” Mo said. “And I think Mama D’s grumpy when she wakes up too.”