The Bear with No Name

Chapter Two

"Christopher Robin, the train carrying bank payroll has been robbed for the second time this month!"

"Not my problem," Christopher Robin replied, leaning back, "I am not in charge of your railroad police. I suggest that you should compensate your clients for the loss and hire better security."

The railroad vice president went red and shook with anger. 

"Christopher Robin, our men are good and fine guards, and I stand by every one of them. Four families are mourning over their grave as we speak!"

"Tell you what," Christopher Robin picked up a fountain pen and dipped it into his inkwell, "Please tell me approximately where that train was robbed, and I will do something about it."

"Well, the train was found in the Western Territories, a mile from Wilder, in Barnstall Grove. We recovered and sent home the bodies and weapons, but rest assured that the train is still there."

Christopher Robin scribbled the information down on a sheet of paper. 

"Anything else?"

"No, not really. I have no clue who the outlaw is."

"I am fully aware of that."

****

Roo was making a early dinner-seared lamb rack with asparagus, when a knock came from the door. 

He found Christopher Robin on his doorstep, and he instinctively knew it was going to be bad. 

He hadn't seen Christopher Robin for years. When Christopher Robin departed for college, he promised to him that he will see Roo on his wedding day. He didn't show up. 

He didn't show up either for their honeymoon see-off either. He didn't even show up at his mother's funeral. 

"You bastard. What do you want?"

Christopher Robin opened up his mouth, 

"Well, I was too busy to show up at your wedd-"

"So many years, and you promised me that you would show up at my wedding. You didn't even show up, much less sign the register!"

"I'm sorry about your ma. Give Alice my dearest condolences." Christopher Robin said, hanging his head. Memories came flooding back to him. Kanga had baked many a cookie and cooked alphabet soup for him, when he was a child, living back then, in the Hundred Acre Wood. Before the fire. Before the roaring flames, that consumed most if not all of the Wood. 

"Well, the past is the past. May I come in?"

"Of course," Roo replied, ushering his friend in.

They had a good dinner, of lamb rack and brandy. Alice was busy writing in the parlor room, court documents, Roo had told Christopher Robin. 

"So, on to business. What are you here for?" Roo asked his friend. 

"Someone is on a rampage throughout the Western Territories. He robbed the payroll train twice this month, the contents were valued to be bout' four million."

"What does this have to do with me? Shouldn't you go tell it to the police?" Roo took a sip of his brandy. He didn't see how this situation fit in with his own. 

"I have a hunch, just a hunch." Christopher Robin put down his fork. 

"Do tell."

"Suppose," Christopher Robin looked out the window, to the rolling green hills and the mountains beyond, "Suppose it wasn't some serial killer. Suppose it wasn't those outlaws that vanish into myth and legend. I suppose, it was someone who we used to know."

"Who?" Roo leaned forward, "I don't know anybody besides Tigger that I keep in touch anymore. My ma? Gone."

"I believe," Christopher Robin let out a slow sigh, "It was a yellow bear called Winnie the Pooh. Does that ring a bell?"

 Roo's brows furrowed, and he thought hard. His childhood was mostly spent with Tigger and not much else. Pooh did strike a chord with him, but he didn't know why.

"Was Pooh that bear that ate honey all day?"

"Ah, so you do remember. And yes, he had a craving for honey, but that was before the forest fire, before he, to put it in layman's terms, became bad."

"I see. I never thought Pooh would become proficient with firearms, but we are living in strange times."

"It's just a hunch. It has to be confirmed, by riding up to the place where the train was robbed, bout' a twenty five miles from here. You wanna come with me?"

"Of course. But, Christopher Robin," Roo said, his voice indecisive, "Will we be in any danger?" 

"Perhaps. Bring a gun and some bullets, perhaps a knapsack with food and blankets." Christopher Robin glanced out the window. It was getting dark. 

"Won't you mind me staying here for the night? I have a bedroll and I can sleep on the floor."

"Gawd, we aren't mountain men. We have a tiny guest room with a bed."