by Stan
“Hey, look at her go!” said Bonnie.
“Yeah!” said Brother. “She’s faster than I thought. A lot faster!”
Sister cut through the water like a cross between a shark and a torpedo. Mr. Grizzmeyer couldn’t even wait for the end of the heat to congratulate her. The moment she emerged from the pool, with Lizzy and Babs still struggling to finish, he cried, “Wow! You just beat your brother by four full seconds! Sister, you’re the team’s number one freestyler!”
As Queenie and Bertha cheered and whistled, Too-Tall and Skuzz razzed Brother with a string of horselaughs. But Bonnie wasn’t sure how to act. On her best friend’s face was an expression that reflected both the thrill of Sister’s victory and the agony of his own defeat. “At least she didn’t end up crying” was all Bonnie could think of to say.
“I’m glad she didn’t end up crying,” said Brother. “On the other hand, I’m not exactly thrilled that I just got creamed in my best event by my own little sister.”
But Sister wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot. The other top swimmers in Teacher Bob’s class—Bonnie, Fred, and Queenie—all got beaten by Sister in their main events. That meant that Sister was not only the team’s top freestyler but also its top breast-stroker, backstroker, and butterflyer.
“Sister Bear, you’re a regular phenom!” gushed Mr. Grizzmeyer. “I’ve never seen anything like it! How about I call your dad right away? He’ll be thrilled!”
Sister beamed up at Mr. Grizzmeyer. “Sure, Coach,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“Oh, no,” groaned Brother.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bonnie as they stood up and got ready to head for opposite locker rooms.
“I know I can handle this,” said Brother. “But what about Papa?”
Chapter 5
A Hero’s Welcome
Brother’s hunch proved all too true, of course. Papa had planned to pick the cubs up in the family car after the tryouts, but Mama showed up instead. When the cubs asked her why Papa hadn’t come, she just said, “Oh, you’ll see when we get home.”
As the red roadster pulled into the tree-house driveway in the twilight, the cubs noticed that the house was much brighter than usual. That was because it was lit up not only inside but outside, too. In the brief time it had taken Mama to pick the cubs up at school, Papa had dug the Christmas tree lights out of a closet, hauled the stepladder up from the basement, and climbed around like an acrobat to hang the multicolored lights all over the house. What’s more, he had hand-painted a big poster-paper banner and nailed it above the front door. In big black letters lit up by a dangling floodlight, the banner read: CONGRATULATIONS, FAMILY PHENOM!!!
The moment Mama turned off the car, Papa burst from the front door, threw his hands in the air, and yelled, “Hooray for Sister! Hip, hip, hooray!” He bounded down the steps and caught Sister up in his arms as she got out of the car. “My little girl!” he cried. “I mean, my big girl! I knew you could do it! You’re great! You’re terrific! You’re going to win every heat in every meet! And I’m going to be there to cheer you on!”
As he put Sister down, Papa noticed Brother climbing out of the car. He reached over and gave his son a little pat on the back. “Nice going, son,” he said. “Coach said you had the second-best time in the crawl. That means we’ve got the top two freestylers right here in the family. What’s wrong, son? You don’t look very excited.”
Brother just shrugged.
“I think Brother may be a bit overwhelmed by all this,” Mama whispered into Papa’s ear.
But Brother overheard. “I’m not overwhelmed,” he said.
“No kidding,” said Papa. “From looking at you, I’d say you’re underwhelmed.”
“No again,” said Brother. “I’m not overwhelmed, and I’m not underwhelmed. I’m just … whelmed.”
And with that, Brother shuffled up the steps and into the house.
“Now, what do you suppose is eatin’ him?” said Papa, looking at Mama.
“Dear,” she said, “I think we’d better have a talk about that right now.”
“Okay,” said Papa. “But it’ll have to wait until after dinner—even later, in fact. Because after dinner, I’m taking Sister to the Beartown Community Center pool for a special practice session. The pool closes at eight, so we have to hurry.”
“Special practice session?” said Sister.
“Yep,” said Papa. “I’m going to be your personal trainer.”
“But I already have a swimming coach—”
“And an excellent one, too,” said Papa. “But a coach isn’t a personal trainer. And you, my dear, have so much potential that you need extra attention. And extra work!”
“But, Papa,” said Sister, “I’m really tired from tryouts …”
“Oh, come now!” said Papa. “That’s no way for a champion swimmer to talk!” He gazed dreamily up into the darkening sky and spied the first evening star. “Look!” he said. “Make a wish …”
Papa, Mama, and Sister closed their eyes and concentrated. Usually, when the family made wishes, Papa wanted to know right away what everyone had wished for. But not this time. “I’ll tell you what I wished for,” he said. “I wished for a gold medal in the Bearlympics for my little girl. Er, I mean, my big girl. And believe you me, Sister, when you’re standing proudly on that highest pedestal, listening to the Bear Country national anthem, with that gold medal hanging around your neck, you’ll thank me a thousand times over for all the extra work I made you do! Now let’s hurry up and eat while there’s time to get that workout in.”
As Papa bounded up the steps into the house, Mama turned to look into her daughter’s confused face. Sister gazed up into Mama’s eyes. Mama didn’t even have to say anything. Her eyes said it all, and what they said went something like this: “You know your papa, dear—how excited he gets about your victories and achievements. But don’t worry; he’ll calm down in a day or two.”
Sister smiled at Mama, and arm in arm, they climbed the tree-house steps.
Chapter 6
Overboard
Papa didn’t get around to having a talk with Mama that evening. He was so worn out from hanging the Christmas lights and the banner and from spending part of the evening as Sister’s personal trainer that he went straight to bed when he got home from the public pool. Nor did he have time to talk with Mama the next morning after the cubs got off to school, because he was swamped with orders for furniture.
In fact, it wasn’t until late afternoon, when Papa came in from his workshop to wash up and change before heading for swimming practice, that Mama finally demanded some attention.
“Oh, all right,” said Papa. “But make it quick, ’cause I’m in a hurry. Now, what’s it about?”
“What’s it about?” gasped Mama. “Have you forgotten already, dear? It’s about Brother moping around ever since the swimming tryouts last night.”
“Oh, that,” said Papa. “Did you ask him what’s bothering him?”
“I didn’t have to ask him,” said Mama. “It’s as plain as the nose on his face. He feels left out.”
“Left out?” said Papa. “You mean because of Sister’s success? But I congratulated him for his crawl time.”
Mama rolled her eyes and sighed. “Dear,” she said, “a little pat on the back can hardly compare with colored lights, banners, and ‘Hooray for Sister!’”
“And why should it?” said Papa. “Brother didn’t get the top times in all four main events. He doesn’t deserve all the fuss Sister does. He’s two years older than Sister, so he ought to understand.”
“Dear, he may be two years older than Sister,” said Mama, “but he’s still a cub. A cub doesn’t think, ‘Gee, my sister did ten times better than I did, so she deserves ten times the praise I do.’ In fact, nobody thinks like that.”
Suddenly, Papa looked sheepish. “You’re right, dear,” he said. “I guess I kind of went overboard.”
“Kind of?” said Mama. “Are you joking?”
“Okay, okay,” Papa mumbled. “I already went overboard; you don’t have to make me walk the plank, too.”
Mama smiled and said, “I’m sorry, dear. I guess I should be thankful you’ve seen the error of your ways so soon.”
Papa’s expression changed from sheepish to sincere. “And I have,” he said. “I’ll try to balance things out a little better between Brother and Sister. You know, root for both of them.”
But then that slightly crazed twinkle danced into Papa’s eyes again. “But Sister’s success doesn’t have to mean Brother’s failure, you know,” he continued. “Why, if she gets a swimming scholarship to the college of her choice, we can afford to send Brother wherever he wants to go, too!”
“Now, wait a minute, dear,” said Mama. “Don’t count your scholarships before they’re hatched. Sister’s still so young. There’s no telling how she’ll feel about swimming when it comes time to go to college.”
“And that’s exactly why we have to push her now!” cried Papa. “So she’ll achieve greatness! So she can go to her favorite college and win the Bearlympics!”
“But that’s all so far in the future,” said Mama. “Right now, what’s important about swimming for Sister is that she enjoy it.”
“And she will!” insisted Papa. “What little cub wouldn’t enjoy winning a gold medal at the Bearlympics?”
“That’s just my point, dear,” said Mama. “Little cubs don’t compete in the Bearlympics. Big cubs and grown-ups do.”
“If that’s your point, I don’t get it,” said Papa. He glanced at his watch. “Wow! I’m gonna be late for practice!” And he dashed down the front steps to the red roadster.
As Mama watched the family car raise a trail of dust on the sunny dirt road to downtown Beartown, she shook her head and sighed. Hadn’t she wanted Papa to see the error of his ways? And hadn’t he done exactly that, and apologized, too? Then why was she left with the funny feeling that she hadn’t gotten through to him at all?
Chapter 7
A Word of Caution
The very first swimming practice played to an audience of just one. But what a one! Papa Bear made enough noise for a hundred bears. He ranted, he raved. He jumped up and down in the stands, yelling “Go, Sister!” every time she got up off the bench. Once, when it turned out she had only gotten up to go to the bathroom, Papa’s yell brought a chorus of laughter from the team. Even Coach Grizzmeyer had to stifle a chuckle. But Sister wasn’t laughing. When she came back from the bathroom, she shot Papa a nasty look and then refused to look at him again for the rest of practice.
Papa didn’t take the hint, however. He thought Sister was just redoubling her concentration for the last freestyle heat. He did remember to cheer “Go, Sister! Go, Brother!” during the heat, but it was pretty obvious to everyone that Sister was his favorite.
Sister won every heat in every event, but in the last butterfly heat, she beat Queenie by barely a nose. And the final freestyle heat was another photo finish, with Brother almost tying Sister.
Coach Grizzmeyer looked concerned as he came over to Sister after that last heat. “What’s wrong, kid?” he said. “Your times have all fallen off. Way off. You look tired, like you can’t get your wind.”
Sister was indeed breathing much harder than she had after the tryout heats. Between breaths, she told the coach about her extra practice session the night before.
“Well, that’s got to stop” was Coach Grizzmeyer’s firm reply.
“But I didn’t want to do it,” said Sister. “Papa made me.”
“Don’t worry,” said the coach. “I’ll take care of Papa. Go get changed.”
When Sister had disappeared into the locker room, Coach Grizzmeyer motioned Papa to the edge of the stands. Papa thought the coach wanted to thank him for taking the time to be Sister’s personal trainer, so he leaned over the railing and said, “I know what you’re gonna say, Coach. But no thanks are necessary. I’ll do anything to help my little girl win a gold or three or four at the Bearlympics. I’ll be the engine of her success!”
“Well, if you’re going to be the engine,” said Mr. Grizzmeyer, “then I’ll have to be the brake. You’re pushing her too hard, Papa. The cub’s exhausted from that extra practice session last night.”
“I just thought she’d benefit from a little extra work,” said Papa.
“Tell you what,” said the coach. “Let me worry about the work, and you can worry about her being healthy and happy. Don’t forget, she’s a lot younger than anyone else on the team.”
“Whatever you say, Coach,” said Papa. “She’s in your hands. I’ll just come to all the practices to cheer her on.”
“In that case,” said Mr. Grizzmeyer, “I’ll be more than the brake; I’ll be the muffler, too. If you come to practices, you’re going to have to keep it down a little. All that yelling and screaming for Sister isn’t really fair to the other team members.”
“Sure thing, Coach,” said Papa as Mr. Grizzmeyer turned and headed for his locker room. “See you tomorrow!”
With his back turned to Papa, Coach Grizzmeyer rolled his eyes and muttered, “I can hardly wait.”
Chapter 8
The Big Meet
Papa did tone down his act at practices, but at home he continued to talk endlessly about Sister’s bright future as a champion swimmer. Sister was moodier than usual, but her heat times did improve. And Papa was very glad of that, because the team’s first meet of the season was almost upon them. During the week leading up to the meet, he pushed Sister constantly, telling her over and over how important it was to get her career off to a good start.
Almost before they knew it, it was time for the big meet. The Bearville team was visiting Bear Country School. Bearville was known to have a strong swimming team, with one cub in particular who might be Sister’s equal in the breaststroke and the butterfly. Papa thought that was the reason Sister seemed a little glum on the evening of the meet.
“Cheer up, dear,” he told her as they drove to school for the meet. “No Bearville swimmer can beat you. I guarantee it.” He lowered his voice so as not to be overheard by Brother, who was stretched out on the backseat, trying to relax before the meet. “And we already know for sure that no Bear Country School swimmer can beat you.”
“I know, I know,” said Sister in a distracted tone of voice.
“Good,” said Papa. “But from the sound of your voice, I’d say your mind is off somewhere else.”
“I was thinking about how it would be fun to play jacks with Lizzy after school tomorrow,” said Sister.
“For heaven’s sake, Sister!” said Papa. “You’ve got to put childish things like that out of your mind! You’re about to compete in your first swim meet. Focus on that. Remember what I told you: you’ve got to do your best tonight because—”
“I know, I know,” said Sister, cutting Papa off. “Because tonight this meet is the most important thing in my life. Don’t worry. I can’t play jacks after school tomorrow anyway, ’cause I have swimming practice.”
Earlier that day, Papa had hand-lettered a placard to take to the meet. It said:
But when Mama had seen it, she’d put her foot down. She snatched a black marker from a kitchen drawer, blacked out Papa’s jingle, and printed something on the other side of the placard. Then she held it up for Papa’s inspection.
“‘SISTER AND BROTHER BEAR! WHAT A PAIR!’” read Papa. “But, dear! That’s so lame!”
“Lame or not, that’s what it’s going to be,” said Mama. “Unless you can come up with something better.”
“But I already came up with something better!” said Papa.
“I mean something better that meets my approval,” said Mama.
Knowing it was hopeless to argue, Papa gave in. But the “lameness” of the placard certainly didn’t keep him from waving it around at the swim meet. The parents sitting behind were pretty annoyed. But no one was more annoyed than Mama. That was because every time Papa waved the placard back and f
orth, it hit Mama in the head.
Though Papa’s antics in the stands attracted a lot of attention, Sister’s performance in the pool attracted more. She won all four of her events and almost single-handedly won the meet for Bear Country School. In the end, the rest of the team lifted her onto their shoulders and carried her around the pool to wild applause from the audience. Mama had to grab Papa’s arm to keep him from jumping out of the stands to join in the poolside celebration.
Chapter 9
Victory Pizza
After the swim meet, Papa and Mama took the whole team, including Coach Grizzmeyer and a bunch of the other parents, out for pizza. As their cars pulled into the Pizza Shack parking lot, Mama did a double take. “Where did that come from?” she said, pointing to a banner hanging above the entrance. In huge letters, it read: CONGRATULATIONS, B.C.S. SWIMMERS! Below that, it said: AND HOORAY FOR THE BEAR FAMILY PHENOM!
“Oh, that,” said Papa. “I brought it over this afternoon. I had a feeling we were going to win tonight.”
Inside, they shared a dozen large deluxe specials with everything but anchovies. Except for Coach Grizzmeyer, who was a confirmed anchovy lover. He had his own pizza, just with extra anchovies. Everyone had a great time, even Brother, who had finished second only to Sister in the crawl, beating all the Bearville swimmers. That seemed to have given him a dose of team spirit at last.
Brother was whooping it up with the other cubs when, all of a sudden, he noticed that Sister didn’t seem to be having as good a time as everyone else. She was smiling, but not laughing and joking. And it looked as if she were faking the smile. So he leaned over and said, “What’s wrong, Sis? I thought you’d be dancing on the table by now.”