![]() When we traced the connection a bit further, we arrived at the conclusion that this official and my father might be second cousins. It turned out that a person who had been a huge help to him when he was in the evacuation center there during the ‘incident’ had an uncle, one of the town officials, whose last name matched mine. ‘You don’t happen to be from X town, do you?’ he asked when he saw my name on the door. When he stopped by my apartment with the noodles, we discovered that we might not be complete strangers after all. He sure wants people to like him, I thought, but then you probably have to do that if you’re a bear. ![]() As a gesture of good will, he had treated the three of us who remained in the building to ‘moving-in noodles’ and distributed packets of postcards, a level of formality you don’t see often nowadays. The bear was a massive full-grown male who had just moved into apartment 305, three doors down the hall from me. It would be a bit of a trek, somewhere between a hike and a stroll. I had taken that road once before in the early spring to see the snipes, but then I had worn protective clothing now it was hot, and for the first time since the ‘incident’ I would be clad in normal clothes that exposed the skin, and carrying lunch to boot. ![]() The bear invited me go for a walk to the river, about twenty minutes away on foot. ![]()
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