The Bear Who Waited

Part One. Two Visitors in the Hedge

On Monday morning, there was a bear and a tiger waiting at the school gate, and they had brought their own snacks.

They were sitting side by side on the pavement, as neat as two people at a bus stop. The bear was large and round and brown, with kind, tired eyes. The tiger was long and orange and striped, with her chin on her paws and her tail flicking crossly. On the flat stone between them sat a pile of garlic cloves and a bunch of grey-green leaves.

"Good morning," said the bear, politely. "I am sorry to trouble you. We have come to learn how to be people."

"She means I'd like to be a person," said the tiger. "She dragged me."

"You said you wanted to come," said the bear.

"I said I was curious," said the tiger.

Dot, who is in Reception and has no fear of anything, trotted straight up to them with a packet of crisps. "Would you like one?" she said.

The bear took one, very gently, with the tip of a claw. The tiger sniffed it, and ate five.

Willow, the Bengal reading cat, walked all the way round the tiger twice, very slowly, with her ears flat. Then she sat down in front of her, like a small, striped, extremely serious inspector. The tiger looked down at her.

"Cousin," said the tiger.

Willow made one small, flat sound, which meant: barely.

Part Two. The Teacher with Three Helpers

The teacher arrived in a gust of wind.

It blew across the playground from nowhere, and it was a perfectly polite wind, the sort that lifts your hair and then sets it back down. Behind it, drifting down from the sky like a person coming down a staircase, came a tall man in a sky-blue robe with a silver belt. He had a calm, wise face and a long dark beard. Behind him walked three small helpers, hurrying to keep up.

The first carried a big leather bag, which went whoosh when he moved. The second had a tiny silver watering can, which dripped. The third wore a round white hat that seemed to be made of cloud, and it was growing slightly bigger as we watched.

The man's badge said Mister Hwanung, Beginners and Beginnings.

"Good morning, little ones," he said. His voice was soft, like wind in the tops of trees. "These are my friends. This one is the Wind Master. This is the Rain Master. And this, with the hat, is the Cloud Master. They are very good at their jobs, and not always good at being indoors."

"Whoosh," said the Wind Master, bowing.

"Drip," said the Rain Master.

The Cloud Master said nothing, but his hat sneezed.

"And you have met my two new pupils, I think," said Mister Hwanung, turning to the bear and the tiger. "They have come a very long way, and I have promised to help."

Part Three. Maya Takes Notes

"He's Hwanung," said Maya.

She had her notebook out before the first bell, and her pencil had a new point.

"This is a Korean story," she said. "It's the story of how Korea began, one of the oldest stories in the country. Hwanung was a prince of heaven, the son of the Lord of the Sky. He looked down at the world every day and thought, I would like to live there, and help the people. So his father gave him permission. He came down to a mountain, with three thousand helpers, and three important ministers, the Wind Master, the Rain Master and the Cloud Master."

"That's them!" said Dot.

"That's them," said Maya. "And at the top of the mountain, there was a cave. And in the cave lived a bear and a tiger. They had heard about Hwanung. They prayed to him and said, We want to be people."

"What did he say?" said Ollie.

"He said, You may, but it will be hard," said Maya. "He gave them twenty cloves of garlic and a bundle of mugwort, which is a bitter grey-green plant. And he said, Eat only this, and stay in the cave, out of the sunlight, for a hundred days, and you shall become human."

"A hundred days with only garlic?" said Kenji.

"That's the test," said Maya. "The tiger got fed up and ran away. But the bear stayed. She waited and waited and waited. And in the end, she turned into a woman."

Alex turned to Felix.

"I wonder what happens this time," said Alex.

Part Four. The Cave Under the School

The cave was in the cellar.

It was the old coal cellar, under the oldest part of the school, behind the boiler room, down eleven steps. It was dark and dry and smelled of dust and pipes. It had a round stone ceiling, and a tiny barred window, and a coal chute that went up to the playground. The Caretaker had moved out his mops, and Mister Hwanung had laid down two straw mats.

"Do they really have to stay a hundred days?" said Mister Harris, anxiously, clutching his clipboard. "The Easter holidays aren't for months."

"In the cave, the days will pass quickly," said Mister Hwanung. "The Cloud Master will see to it. Every break out here will be ten days in there. That is two breaks a day, so they will be ready by Friday."

"Puff," said the Cloud Master, proudly.

"And you may visit them," said Mister Hwanung, looking at us, "at break times. But you may not bring food, and you may not bring light. The cave must be dark. These are the rules."

"We'll visit," said Alex.

"Every break," said Felix.

"I'll keep count," said Maya, writing.

"I'll make marks on the wall," said Dot, with a lump of chalk.

At the bottom of the stairs, the bear and the tiger sat down on their mats. The bear bowed to us. The tiger flicked her tail. Mister Hwanung handed them each a pile of garlic and a handful of mugwort. And, with a tiny puff of cloud, the cellar door swung shut.

Part Five. Day One

On the first break, we went down together.

It was very dark. A faint grey light came through the little barred window. The air smelled of garlic so strongly that Ollie's eyes watered, and Kenji held his nose.

The bear was sitting upright on her mat, chewing slowly. Her face was calm. The tiger was lying on her back with her paws in the air, groaning.

"It tastes like a bin," said the tiger.

"It tastes like garlic," said the bear. "Which is good for you."

"It tastes like a garlic bin," said the tiger, and went back to groaning.

Alex sat down by the bear. Felix sat down by the tiger. It was the way it happened, without anyone saying so, as if each had been picked.

"Does it hurt?" Alex asked the bear.

"My tummy rumbles," said the bear. "And my back is a bit sore. But I tell myself it is just today. Just one day. I do not think about the hundred."

"One day at a time," said Alex.

"One day at a time," agreed the bear.

Felix scratched the tiger behind one ear. The tiger stopped groaning, and rolled over.

"I'm not good at waiting," she said. "I pounce. That's what tigers are for. I'm very good at pouncing. I'm just not good at sitting."

"That's okay," said Felix. "Neither am I."

"Really?" said the tiger.

"I got told off yesterday for wriggling," said Felix.

"Well," said the tiger, and her whiskers lifted slightly. "That's something."

Part Six. The Temptation

By Day Twenty, the smell had got into everything.

We held our noses and went down at break. The bear was sitting upright, humming. The tiger was lying on her side, looking at the ceiling. Her stomach made a noise like a cement mixer.

And standing at the top of the coal chute, peering down, were two very familiar faces.

"Hello," said Baba Yaga, sweetly. She held a steaming pot. "I have made some soup. Cabbage and beetroot. With sour cream. And a lovely bit of chicken."

"No, thank you," said the bear. Her mouth was watering, but she didn't move.

"A little sandwich?" said Mister Coyote, appearing beside her. He held out a huge, delicious, dripping ham sandwich. "I had two. This one's spare."

"It isn't your sandwich," said Maya, sternly, from the stairs.

"It's a sandwich," said Mister Coyote.

The tiger had sat up. Her eyes were fixed on the pot. Her nose twitched. Her tail went stiff. A long, terrible rumble came out of her stomach.

"Don't," whispered Felix.

"I'm so hungry," whispered the tiger.

"I know," said Felix. "So is she. Look."

The bear had her eyes tightly shut. She was holding on to her mat with both paws, and her lips were moving silently.

"One day at a time," murmured the bear.

"Please go away," said Alex, to the top of the chute, very politely.

Baba Yaga sniffed. But she gave a small, approving nod, and took her pot away. Mister Coyote took a very big bite of his sandwich on the way.

Part Seven. Days Forty to Sixty

We did what we could.

We couldn't bring food, and we couldn't bring light. But on every break, the whole class took turns climbing down the eleven steps and sitting in the dark. Ollie read stories out loud from memory, doing all the voices. Kenji told jokes through the bars, until the tiger giggled and the bear shook her head. Maya brought her notebook and read them facts, and the bear listened with her eyes shut.

Dot made marks on the wall with her chalk. She made a mark for every day, ten after each break, in a neat little row. By Tuesday afternoon, she had made forty-one, and nine hearts, and a drawing of a dog.

"That's not very accurate," said Maya.

"It's a very good dog," said Dot.

Willow sat between the bear and the tiger every single break, with her paws tucked in and her tail wrapped neatly round, purring. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The bear fell asleep against her, and the tiger put her head on Willow's back. The whole cave rumbled with the sound.

And Mister Hwanung came down every evening, with his three helpers. He sat cross-legged on the cold floor, and he said nothing. He only sat, and listened, and let the quiet fill the room.

"It's not easy," whispered Alex, one evening.

"No," said Mister Hwanung. "It is not supposed to be. Every beginning is hard. But the hardness is not a sign that you are doing it wrong. It is only a sign that you are doing something new."

Part Eight. Day Sixty

That's when the tiger broke.

It was Wednesday afternoon, and raining. Sixty days, and six breaks. We had gone down at break and found her pacing round the cellar with her tail lashing. She had stopped eating the mugwort the day before. She'd stopped talking, too. She'd gone thin and snappy.

"I can't!" she roared.

The whole cellar shook. Dust fell off the ceiling. The bear opened her eyes.

"I can't do it!" shouted the tiger. "I hate this! I hate the dark! I hate the garlic! I hate the sitting! I don't even know what a person is! I'm no good at it! I'll never be any good at it!"

"You've done sixty days," said Felix.

"Sixty rubbish days!" roared the tiger. She flung herself at the door, and it didn't open. She spun round, and leapt at the coal chute, and scrabbled up it with her claws. "I'm going out! I'm leaving! I don't care what anybody says!"

"Wait!" shouted Alex.

"Let her go," said Mister Hwanung, from the stairs. He had appeared out of nowhere, with the Wind Master at his shoulder. His voice was quiet. "She is free to leave at any time. There is no shame in it."

"But she'll be sad," said Felix.

"Perhaps," said Mister Hwanung. "But it is her choice."

The tiger's tail vanished up the chute with a swish. Her claws scrabbled on the stone. And then she was gone, out into the grey and the rain.

Nobody noticed that a very small girl in a very yellow raincoat had slipped past us on the stairs.

Part Nine. Dot Follows

"She's gone to find a big cat!" Dot had whispered, on the stairs.

She was only little. She had never been told not to follow a tiger. And in her head, the tiger was Willow's cousin, who needed a friend.

She trotted across the soggy playground, under the dripping rain. She slipped through the hole in the fence. She followed a trail of enormous paw-prints, pressed deep into the mud, across the field, up the lane, and into the trees on Gobbler Hill.

By the time anyone realised she was gone, it was nearly dark.

"Dot!" shouted Maya, racing up the stairs.

"She isn't here!" shouted Kenji.

"She's not in the cloakroom!" shouted Ollie.

"The tiger!" shouted Felix. "She followed the tiger!"

Mister Harris came running, with his hair on end. "Everyone stay calm!" he cried. "Search the building! Check the cupboards!"

"She's not in the building," said Alex, quietly. He was staring at the muddy trail across the field. "She went up the hill."

Overhead, a huge purple cloud was rolling in. The Rain Master hung his head. The Cloud Master's hat began to rumble.

"Oh dear," said Mister Hwanung. "My ministers get excited when they are upset."

The first crack of thunder rolled across the sky.

Part Ten. Into the Woods

We went after her, the four of us.

Alex and Felix went first, hand in hand, with their coats buttoned up to their chins. Maya came behind, with her torch and her notebook. And leading the way, with her tail up and her eyes glowing like two small green lamps in the dark, went Willow.

Behind us came Mister Hwanung and his three helpers. The Wind Master blew the clouds back from our faces, and the Cloud Master lit our path with a soft white glow. But the Rain Master was too upset, and the rain came down harder.

The trees closed round us. It was black under the branches. Roots stuck up out of the path, and brambles snatched at our sleeves. The thunder crashed again. Maya squeaked.

"Dot!" shouted Alex.

"DOT!" shouted Felix.

Nothing. Only the hiss of the rain, and the wind in the branches, and the distant, rushing roar of water.

Willow stopped dead. Her ears flicked forward. She gave a long, low growl.

"What is it?" whispered Maya.

Through the dark, from somewhere ahead and below us, came a small, high voice.

"Help!"

Part Eleven. The River

The stream at the bottom of Gobbler Hill is normally a trickle.

That night, it was a torrent. The rain had swollen it to three times its size. It roared through the gully in a brown, foaming rush, tearing at the banks and tumbling the stones.

And in the middle of it, clinging to a log, in her yellow raincoat, was Dot.

"Help!" she wailed. "I fell in! I was looking for my tiger!"

"Hold on!" shouted Alex.

"We're coming!" shouted Felix.

They ran down the bank. But before either of them could reach the water, there was a flash of orange in the dark, and a roar like a train.

The tiger leapt.

She came out of the trees in a single, tremendous bound, and landed in the torrent up to her chest. The water broke over her stripes. She braced her four enormous legs on the stones, and stretched out her neck, and took Dot gently by the back of her raincoat in her teeth.

Her teeth were very sharp. Her mouth was enormous. But she did not so much as dent the yellow cloth.

She waded to the bank, step by step, fighting the current, and set Dot down on the grass like a kitten.

"Thank you," said Dot, coughing. "I knew you were nice."

Part Twelve. Not Rubbish

The tiger lay down in the mud, panting.

She was soaked to the skin, and shivering. Her sides heaved. The rain ran off her whiskers. She did not look like the proudest of beasts. She looked like a very big, very tired, very sorry cat.

Alex and Felix sat down next to her, one on each side.

"I'm no good," she whispered. "I couldn't finish. I gave up. I ran away. I'm a rubbish tiger, and a rubbish person, and a rubbish everything."

"You just carried Dot out of a river," said Alex.

"With your teeth," said Felix. "Without even a scratch."

"That's not rubbish," said Alex.

"That's the opposite of rubbish," said Felix.

The tiger was quiet for a long time. A tear slid down her striped face and dropped into the mud.

"I wanted to be a person," she said. "Because I thought people were better than tigers. I thought if I could become one, I'd be good at something."

"You are good at something," said Felix. "You're good at being a tiger."

"A tiger who rescues people," said Alex.

"But what if I want to be a person?" said the tiger.

"You can still try," said Alex. "Giving up one day doesn't mean you can't try again."

"But you don't have to," said Felix. "You don't have to turn into something else, to belong. You were enough when you walked in."

Behind them, in the dark, Mister Hwanung had come to the edge of the trees. He didn't speak. He only listened. And his face, under his dripping beard, was very gentle.

Part Thirteen. The Open Door

We went back together.

It was after midnight. The thunder had stopped. The Rain Master was sniffing, and the Cloud Master was a deep, sad grey. Dot rode on Alex's back, half asleep. Maya carried Dot's wellies. The tiger limped beside us, and Willow walked at her heels with her head up, like a guard.

Mister Harris was waiting at the gate with a flask of hot chocolate and a very red nose. When he saw Dot, he dropped his clipboard and burst into tears. He held her for such a long time that she complained.

"I'm all right," said Dot. "The tiger rescued me."

"Then I owe her a very large bucket of thanks," said Mister Harris. He wiped his nose. "And nobody is ever, ever to follow a tiger into the woods again. Not even a nice one."

"Not even a nice one," said Dot, sleepily, which was not a promise.

At the top of the cellar steps, the tiger stopped.

"The door is open," said Mister Hwanung. "It has been open all night. You may go back in, or you may not. You may try again, or you may be a tiger. Either is a good choice."

The tiger looked down the steps, into the dark. She looked at the bear, who was sitting upright on her mat, waiting, humming a tune.

"I want to sit with her," said the tiger. "I don't want to be a person. Not yet. But I want to keep her company. Is that allowed?"

"That is the best reason I have heard in a thousand years," said Mister Hwanung.

Part Fourteen. Day One Hundred

On Friday, at the end of the last break, we all stood at the top of the steps.

The Cloud Master had been working hard. A soft grey cloud curled round the cellar door. The little barred window glowed. From below came a hum, low and steady, as if the whole room were holding its breath.

"One hundred," whispered Maya. "Today."

Dot looked at her wall. She had made a hundred marks, give or take. There were a lot of hearts and at least seven dogs.

"Open the door," said Mister Hwanung.

The Caretaker drew the bolt. The door swung slowly open.

Sunlight poured down the steps, and a woman came walking up out of the dark.

She was tall and broad, and she wore a soft brown dress with a green sash. Her hair was dark and thick and tied back. Her eyes were the same kind, tired, honest eyes we knew. She stopped at the top of the stairs, and looked at her own hands. She turned them over. She flexed her fingers.

"I did it," she said.

Her badge, newly pinned to her dress, said Mrs Ungnyeo, Patience and Porridge.

"You did it," said Mister Hwanung, and bowed.

Behind her, trotting up the steps, came a long striped shape, with her tail up and her chin high. She stopped at the top and sat down beside Mrs Ungnyeo. Her badge, pinned to her collar, said Tiger, Playground Guardian.

"I gave her a job," said Mister Hwanung, and his eyes twinkled. "In Korea, a tiger is a protector of children. It is the oldest and most honourable job there is."

Part Fifteen. The Celebration

We had a party in the playground.

Mister Ketz made a mountain of rice cakes. Mrs Oshun brought honey. Baba Yaga, who had been forgiven, produced a tray of dumplings. Mister Coyote produced a very large sandwich, and everyone looked at him, and he said it was his own, this time, and he'd checked.

Mrs Ungnyeo sat under the sycamore tree with a bowl of porridge and ate with her eyes closed. She said it was the best porridge she had ever tasted. Dot said it was only porridge. Mrs Ungnyeo said that was what made it so good.

The tiger lay in the middle of the playground, in the sun, with Willow curled up on her back, and let the Reception class climb all over her. She did not mind in the slightest. She purred like a motorbike.

"It's the proper thing to do," said Maya. "The bear in the old story wished for a child. And her son grew up to be Dangun, the founder of the first Korean kingdom. They celebrate it every October, on National Foundation Day."

"What will Mrs Ungnyeo wish for?" said Kenji.

"I think," said Maya, "she'll wish for a lot of friends."

The Cloud Master stepped forward. He took off his hat. Inside it was a small, perfect cloud, white as a pillow. He held it out to Mrs Ungnyeo. She took it. It purred.

Part Sixteen. What They Told Us

That evening, the sun went down slowly over the school.

Mrs Ungnyeo and the tiger sat on the steps, side by side. Alex and Felix sat on the step below. Maya and Willow sat at the bottom. Dot was asleep, upside down, in a pile of leaves.

"I want to tell you something," said Mrs Ungnyeo. "Because you sat with us in the dark."

"What?" said Alex.

"Hard things take as long as they take," said Mrs Ungnyeo. "The one thing that helped me was not to look at the hundred. I looked at the one. Today. And when I got tired, I thought of somebody sitting outside the door, waiting."

"We were waiting," said Felix.

"I know," said Mrs Ungnyeo. "That was the garlic that made me strong."

The tiger yawned.

"I would like to say something too," she growled. "I gave up, once. And I was ashamed. But it turns out that giving up is not the end. I came back. And that was the bravest bit."

She nudged Alex with her nose, and then Felix, one each, so neither was left out.

"One day at a time," said Alex.

"And somebody waiting," said Felix.

Maya wrote down you were enough when you walked in, in her very best handwriting, and drew a small, smiling, striped face next to it.

Part Seventeen. The Ending, with a Hook

The first stars came out over the school.

Alex and Felix walked home with Willow between them, and Maya behind.

At the gate, Willow stopped.

Something small, round and golden had rolled across the pavement. It stopped against Felix's shoe. He picked it up. It was an apple. It glowed in his palm, warm as a little sun, and it smelled of honey and spring.

Alex picked up another. It had come from somewhere in the dark.

Then another rolled up. Then another, and another, and then a whole shower of them, bouncing down the lane from the hill, glowing gold in the dusk, like a string of lamps.

"Where are they coming from?" whispered Maya.

From very high above, over the dark of the hill, came a long, whistling cry. A huge shadow passed over the moon. It had wide, dark wings, and a curved beak, and in its claws, struggling and kicking, was something small and bright and cross.

"THOSE ARE MY APPLES!" shouted a voice, far away. "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THEY TAKE TO GROW?"

Then the shadow slipped into the clouds, and the shouting faded into the night, and the lane was quiet again.

Behind us, we could hear the tiger's faint snore from the steps, and the purr of a very small cloud. The apples went on rolling, one by one, down the lane, glowing softly in the dark.

Alex and Felix each held a golden apple. They said, at exactly the same time, "Monday."

The End.