Hilary and the Beasts, Part 20

“Betty!” Hilary dashed into the library. “Betty? Bear?”

That was when she heard the typewriter. It wasn’t clacking quite as much, but it still moved along. “Am I doing all right, Miss Betty?” Puppy’s sweetly eager voice drifted from the back. “How does my attempt at penning a masterpiece like the ones you produce look? I haven’t done this in a while. I’m open to criticism. Otherwise, my asking you for aid would be meaningless.” 

Hilary followed the tapping to the back of the library, where the sun shone and the snow sparkled through that huge window. Puppy sat behind the typewriter, tapping her little paws on the keys. Bear watched them…or really, watched Betty wistfully. There was what looked like an old reading primer open on his lap. 

“Well,” Betty was saying, “it’s not bad. It has promise, anyway. You need different names for your hero and villain though. Calling both of them ‘John’ is confusing for the audience.”

Puppy took a much-chewed pencil from her canines. “I see. You’re correct. The similarities are quite confusing.” That was when that beaming smile returned. “That’s why I appreciate the chance to talk writing with a real, published writer like yourself. I’ve heard your work on the radio, Miss Betty. It’s breathtaking!”

“Yeah,” Bear added gently from the couch. “I hear too. You’re good.” His grin was nearly wide as Puppy’s. “I think Betty very smart…very good.” He put his big paw on her small one. “Very nice. To Bear…to Puppy. You like us.” 

“Thank you, you two, but they’re mostly short dramas and comedy programs.” She sighed, settling next to Bear as Puppy began tapping again. “I wish I could do so much more. I have so many stories I want to write, but, I need to make money. Those short radio plays are keeping my family out of debt. If I didn’t write them…”

“You smart.” Bear put his hand on the book. “You show Bear words. What words mean. You write. Bear not write. Not read. You better.”

Betty gently put his paw on the page. “I think you can. There’s something in there. We’re going to help you get through those blocks and access it.” She leaned over him, drawing his claw down the words. “Now, read with me. ‘The quick brown dog ran after the lazy cat.’”

“The…” Bear stammered, his big larynx bobbing “the…q…quick…” His eyes clouded, even as he stared at the words. “Oww. It…Betty, it hurts.”

She frowned, gently rubbing his head. “Are you all right?”

“Hurts…” He shook his big head. “No, I try. For Betty.” 

Hilary almost hated to disrupt this charming scene, but she wanted to talk to Bear. “Betty?” 

They both looked up at once, surprised to see her. “Oh, hi Hilary.” Betty continued to hold Bear’s big paw on the page. “Did you find out anything from Doug and Miss Organ?”

“Not as much as I would have liked.” Hilary sighed. “Bear…I almost hate to ask you this, but…it’s about this curse business.” 

Bear winced. “C…curse?” 

“Yes, Bear.” Betty squeezed his paw again. “Whatever it is that’s hurting your head and is keeping you from reading and writing. Someone doesn’t want you doing those things. We need to know who…or what.”

“I…” Bear whined, putting his head in his paws. “I can’t. It…she…hurt me. It hurt so much…” He looked up at her…and his eyes were blank. So totally blank, she stepped back. “She hurt me! Hurt my head. I made her angry.”

“Bear.” Betty took his paws. “Who is ‘she’? And how did you make her angry?” 

“We can’t tell you!” Puppy whined, her own blue eyes flooded with fear. “It’s part of…well, we can’t!”

“It hurts!” Bear jumped up, stumbling over two chairs as he shuffled out of the library. 

“Bear!” Betty followed him, with Hilary and Puppy on her heels. “Bear!” He was always so slow, it wasn’t difficult to catch up with him in the hall. She put her little hand on his flannel-clad shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“Betty…she…” When he turned to her, the amber eyes were pooling with tears. “She’s why. Why head hurts. She hates Bear. Master…Bear help Master. She want Master, but Bear didn’t like her. Didn’t like bad group she was with. She was bad, and Bear made her angry. Made Master see her. Bear’s fault she’s angry.”

“Oh Bear!” Betty launched herself into his big, strong, furry arms. “It’s not your fault! You probably didn’t do anything wrong. If she’s really that horrible, it was her, not you.”

“She is!” Puppy added vehemently. “She’s the most spiteful creature in the whole world!”

 “Whomever she is, you ought to skewer her with those giant knives of yours.” Hilary put a hand on Bear’s shaking shoulder. “You should draw and quarter her!” 

“She isn’t very nice, I can tell you that. She’s involved with groups in Europe that…well, if people knew, she’d probably get thrown out of the country!” Puppy looked at the grandfather clock. “I have to dust the upstairs rooms now. See you tomorrow for another writing lesson, Betty?”

“Hm?” Betty barely looked up from Bear’s soft fur. “Oh, yes, Puppy. I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow.” 

“Betty…” Hilary sighed. She suspected those two weren’t going anywhere for a while. “I’ll see you later tonight, after I have dinner with Troll, and we’ll talk about this.”

“Ok, Hilary.” Betty sighed, leaning into Bear, who continued to whimper. “I’ll see you then. Tell Troll we’ll take dinner in the library.” 

Hilary sighed. “I’ll do that, dear.” They were still holding each other when Hilary left them to dress for dinner.