Then We Are Not Happy

Sartre can't remember where the others had said they were going.

A café nearby. Which café?

Where is Prong when you need her?

He'll have to cycle up and down the local streets, looking.

And what to do with the box?

He doesn't have a back pannier.

He will have to ride with the box tucked under his arm.

He hopes it isn't illegal.

And perhaps he should make sure the box contents are secure before starting.

He takes the lid off, to check.

Saint Elias lies wedged at the bottom. Feet at one end. At the other, his pointing finger.

He won't be moving.

But the bears are so small and one is quite precious. 

Which one of you is the one that we rescued? asks Sartre.

It was me, answers Bowl.

I'm going to look for a café, says Sartre. And I'll have to bring you. 

Thank you, says Bowl. Will we be joining the others?

Yes, says Sartre. If I can locate the café. I don't suppose you heard a mention of which one it was?

No, says Bowl. We were talking about bear diseases.

Don't remind me, says Sartre. Are you happy to remain in the box? I'll be cycling.

Do you have a back pannier with a clip? asks Bowl.

No, says Sartre. Your box would have to go under my arm.

Then we are not happy, says Bowl.

I was only thinking of you, says Sartre. Not the others.

We stick together, says Bowl. 

Saint Elias is touched upon hearing this answer from Bowl.

In his turbulent life, he had not stuck together with anyone, and look where it got him.

I could put you all in one of my my pockets, says Sartre. You would go up and down.

That sounds like fun! says Toyshop.

Why would we go up and down? asks Bowl.

Saint Elias is glad Bowl has asked, because he doesn't know either.

You would be in one of my my trouser pockets, says Sartre. And my legs will go up and down.

Who wants to? asks Bowl. 

Me! says Toyshop.

Saint Elias, being longer, is not sure. What if he falls out of the pocket?

But Sartre is already lifting him out of the box.

Stuffing him into his trouser pocket, head first.

Followed by Toyshop and Bowl.

He is just mounting his bicycle, when Prong appears.

Everyone's waiting for you, says Prong.

Lead the way, says Sartre.

What about the box? asks Prong. You can't leave it behind.

The bears and the saint are in my trouser pocket, says Sartre.

Why not in the box? asks Prong.

To avoid them being jumbled, says Sartre.

Fair enough, agrees Prong. But you still ought to bring it.

Sartre knows Prong is right. To leave it behind would be littering.

And they might need it later,

I would carry it, says Prong, but it's too big for me to carry it safely.

I'll do it, says Sartre. 

If nothing else, the story will look good in his blog.