Snacks From the Butler's Pantry

The Bear never stays in one place for long. When his work in one world is complete, he must move to the next. There are too many worlds that need his help. Each world is contained by a translucent shell, and they are strung together like a necklace of pearls. No one knows if the inhabitants of each world can travel to the others. They never try. Each globe contains everything the inhabitants would ever need. The Bear is the only one who has ever traveled between worlds, and for him, travel is an addiction.

He saved my world once. I helped him as much as I could in my old age. I used to be a fierce warrior, and a fearsome fighter pilot. By the time The Bear needed my help, I was too old to offer him anything but friendship and advice. My hair was thin and wiry, and my skin dry and ashy from overexposure to the caustic gasses of the upper atmosphere.

I remember shaking his hand as we said our final goodbyes. His grip felt hot with the energy and vigor of youth. My own bony fingers dug into his strong, muscled hand, It brought back memories of sinking my teeth into a thick cut of roasted meat. No one had eaten meat since the world's energy gave out. The livestock stopped reproducing and the crops died in the fields.

Now that The Bear had set in motion the healing process on our world, I tried to convince him to stay. I told him tales of the beautiful sunsets over the high terraced grasslands. I described the way the great silver blimps shifted the magnetic fields to make the air shimmer with rainbows.

I knew that there was nothing I could do to convince him. He could never be content with peace and beauty. Other worlds would need his help, and he would be drawn to their turmoil like an addict. With all the worlds he would save, I wondered if he would ever stay to see the end result of his healing.