Squinty the Bear

I have included as a preamble to this story a short piece by Chas Nicholson, a friend, because I like it and because it explains the rest¦.sort of.

I Just Wanna Be Your Teddy Bear

"Did you ever have to make up your mind?
Pick up with one and leave the other behind.
It's not often easy, it's not often kind.
Did you ever have to make up your mind?"
The Lovin' Spoonful ,~

"Wanty wanty can't getty
"Getty getty, no wanty." The Gladiators

"I don't wanna be your tiger
Cos tigers play too rough
I don't wanna be you lion
Cos lions aint the kind you love enough"
Elvis Presley

Back in the 1960s, when it was swinging, I spent three years in an institution called London University getting something known as a 'Degree' in Economics. I now have no idea why I was doing this. Somebody told me it was a good idea and as I didn't have any other plans at the time I decided to give it a go. Big mistake.
Not much remains from the stuff I learned in those day but one idea has stayed with me over the years and it is the concept of Opportunity Cost. This is how it goes: The Opportunity Cost of an activity is the highest valued alternative foregone in the
pursuit of that activity. This is a hallmark of anything dealing with economics - and life too for that matter - because any action that you take prevents you from doing
something else. The ultimate source of opportunity cost is the pervasive problem of scarcity (you've got unlimited wants and needs, but you've only got limited
resources). Whenever limited resources are used to satisfy one want or need, there are an unlimited number of other wants and needs that remain unsatisfied.
Let's take an example: you go into a restaurant and run your finger down the menu. What will you choose? The Fillet of Brill with Stir Fried Spinach and
Coriander at £23.50, or the Roast Tronçon of Turbot with Hollandaise Sauce at
£26.00, or even the Steamed Lobster with Mayonnaise and salad Leaves at £32.00. You've got to make a decision. If you pick the Brill it will cost you £23.50 but the
Opportunity Cost of this decision is that you will have to do without the Turbot or the Lobster. Will you really enjoy the Brill or will you be haunted with regret and longing for the foregone Turbot?
Every time you have a choice to make this Opportunity Cost thing comes into
play. Every time you come to a fork in the road the cost of taking one path is the loss of the alternative.
. Now and then I do a bit of work in the garden but I find it hard to use the
materials I have lying about to complete jobs. Should I use that particular piece of wood for this particular project or will I find later on that it would have been better suited to some other task? Should I put those slate slabs over there to form a bridge
or should I keep them to make a table? Everything has an infinite number of uses but can only be used once. How to select the best outcome? Well, of course, you just have to make a choice and live with it otherwise nothing gets done and you end up with Opportunity Cost Paralysis Syndrome. Obviously sometimes you are going to get it
wrong, but you haven't got to feel remorse, because remorse is the Existential Sin and it negates your existence.
So here follows a cautionary tale. Jilly's Mum, June, went of to London and left her behind. To expiate her guilt for abandonning the child, she promised to bring her back a present. And Jilly chose a teddy bear. A particular kind of teddy bear. Not just any old bear. Unable at first to find the bear specified, June bought a substitute. Later she spotted the correct bear and bought that as well. On her return instead of giving Jilly the bear she wanted, she presented her with a choice, Sophie's Choice. Jilly
chose the bear that she had always wanted and rejected the other one. But she was
never able to enjoy the chosen bear as fully as she might have, because any pleasure that she might have got from it was tinged with regret for the bear she had turned
down. Snuggling down under the eiderdown (there were no duvets in those days) with her teddy bear under her arm, her thoughts turned to that other bear. Where was it
now? Was somebody else holding it tight? You may be wondering yourself, what did happen to that other bear? To find that out you'd have to read the story of 'Squinty the Bear'. And it's a weird and terrible tale.

Squinty The Bear

Mgrela Namola strolled into the meeting and looked around. Hmmm! There were some big boys here. Boyce, the bosses' right hand man, at the end of the table with Gregson from finance, Kee from foreign and Sloik from internal and domestic. Other expensive suits he didn't recognise littered the table. The air hung with cigar smoke and the aroma of coffee several factors higher than usually on offer. Mgrela fielded a large one of these and sat down. Something unexpected must have come up to drag this bunch of freeloaders away from their golf buggies.
Kif Boyce stood up and addresses the table. "Gentlemen and Women. Please be upstanding for the Anthem. Thank You.
They all stood and sang, then sat down.
Mr Namola please. Said Kif and Mgrela stood up, opened his brief case and took out the Hartshorn folder and accompanying CD rom. He put the former down and inserted the latter into a disc reader on the desk.
Screens around the room, which had hitherto been displaying a fluttering flag screensaver, blacked then showed the image of a woman in her late seventies. "This is Jillian Hartshorn, he said turning to his folder, " a photo from Candela magazine July last year. Ms Hartshorn is a celebrity largely due to her appearance in a cult film from years ago called 'The Manor of Redemption'. She is well know in celebrity gossip columns and has recently featured in 'Hiya', the Welsh edition of 'Hello Magazine'.
Mgrela cleared his throat. "So far so good.
The screen changed to display a copy of the Sunday Dirt dated 17.11.35.
The headline screamed:

JILLY HARTLESS CAN'T BEAR THE TRUTH

Beside a photo of the anguished Ms Harthorn being led to a car by friends and wellwishers. The headline continued:

HARTSHORN LOVE BEAR TELLS OF DRUG TRAFFICKING, INDECENT ASSAULT, AND MORE
" D-list celebrity, friend of the stars and everybodies favourite granny, Jillian Hartshorn, is in hiding this weekend when it was discovered by 'THE DIRT' that a teddybear abandoned in childhood has come forward to claim millions of pounds worth of damages for a life destroyed by drugs and vice and caused, it is alleged, by the cruel start he was given

"The article goes on to describe various aspects of the case which you can read at your leisure plus a whole raft of other relevant material Magrela continued, " I guess he has some cause for complaint, I think you'll agree.
" But surely the bear can't finger the agency, said Gregson tetchily " we covered all out tracks.
"I hope so! Mgrela looked up from his notes "Gentlemen I'm not worried about what may or may not come out in court. The bears' council will advise him of what is safe to reveal. What concerns me more is the media and what they may uncover.
"Just a second, I'm in the dark here came a voice from the end of the table "why are we interested in the murky past of some teddy bear? The voice was that of George Grange, semi-retired long-serving operative, kept on for his experience, but basically a bit out of touch.
Eyes around the table swept to the ceiling, but Grange persisted. "Look, there's no point in me being here if I don't know what's going on, can somebody fill me in?
"All this stuff is on the disc George but I admit it takes time to read. Perhaps for the benefit of all assembled we should recap, I'm sure your not the only one who's a bit woolly on the case!Mgrela replied loosening his tie and taking a slug of coffee. "Binki the bear, after being rejected by Ms Hartshorn was subjected to a post deselection stock reshelving downgrade programme due to a small snot contamination on the cellophane wrapper. He was put on a percentage lost profit detail of fifty.
George Grange put up his hand; a schoolboy asking to go to the toilet.
"Half price, George! Continued Mgrela. "Binki was then placed in the post equinoctic retail reduction protocol¦Spring sale, to you, George¦.and was bought eventually by a gentleman by the name of Phil Elliot and given to his son Billy.
Mgrela took another sip of his coffee and went on.
"Billy was an unpleasant boy, renowned for his bad attitude to soft toys, who through a series of brutal gynaecological procedures reduced Binki to a glove puppet. Mgrela looked over his glasses at his harrowed audience. "Happily Billy couldn't remove the stuffing from Binkis' legs, but, he lowered his eyes "everything else was gone! The assembly gave out an anguished gasp. This was an unpleasant revelation, but Mgrela had more.
"Binki ended up in a car boot sale in the early nineties, devoid of stuffing, but in perfect condition for the agency. We recruited Binki the bear in 1996 as a courier and undercover surveillance operative on account of his undistinguished appearance, hollow interior and transparent background. Nobody could trace him since nobody wanted him. He'd been rejected once and that kind of stigma sticks Mgrela looked around and could see that this statement had hit home. Grey heads were nodding and lumps in throats were being ineffectually swallowed.
"He was put initially on a Central American drugs frame up during the Medallin Affair, carrying depleted ATPFT into Honduras to be trans-shipped by a Barbie and Ken cell operating out of a 'Toy Binge' franchise in Fort Worth.
Mgrela took another pull at his drink and glanced up at his silent audience "Dangerous work! I think you'll agree, gentlemen!
"How the hell did you get him to do it? Grange was bewildered.
"If you remember George, although computers were pretty basic the mid nineties, it was apparent to many in the agency that it wouldn't be long before it would be possible to do fantastic things with artificial intelligence..
"You mean¦.? Granges eyes were as wide as a linebackers shorts.
"Yes George. Replied Mgrela patiently. "We offered Binki full sentience.
A disturbed muttering went round the room.
"We were not told about this! Kee was on is feet, furious. "If the bear is fully sentient it means..
"Calm down Toni! Boyce interjected. "There was no way we could get bear on board without offering something.
But full sentience! Sloik, this time, "surely there was something less¦ he searched for a word, "¦.extreme?
"We offered him a night with a certain Andrew Pandy who, intelligence informed us, was a raving psuedobearophile, but he refused. returned Boyce, "and anyway we didn't think we'd have to deliver¦.we saw him as¦Ahem!...expendible.
"Jesus! Sloik put his head in his hands "What in God's name happened?
"Well, Binki successfully ran many missions through enemy lines carrying up to a kilo of ATPFT at a time up his jumper, as it were, before being caught by our own coastguards off Bermuda. Naturally we had to disown him at this point and abandon him to his fate. Boyce looked around the room and raised his hands in surrender. "What is done is done! Mgrela please continue.
Mgrela stood up, picked up a glass of water, took a sip and faced his audience. Binki was placed in a high security facility in Miami, brutally relieved of his contraband, and put into storage as prosecution evidence. No one was aware at this point that Binki was now totally addicted to ATPFT, not only in the chemical sense but also because it made him¦er¦fatter..I mean¦.less floppy.
"But that means¦! Sloik was gradually coming up to speed.
"Yes! Mgrela was getting impatient with his audience. "He was well into his A.I.Cognitive implant restructuring logistic initiative facility programme by the time he was caught.
"Whaa..! Grange bleated, trying hard but losing ground.
"Spelling it out for you George! Binki had received his Pentium 57 three zillion, willion hertz processor, and his Amcon 28.5 gigagagbyte "Stallion hard drive, a complete set of "Don't MESSWITH.U.S Touch Me Feel Me' receptor terminals but we hadn't had time to install the " Arghh!.com response network.
"So Binki knew whet was going on but couldn't respond! reasoned Sloik.
"Correct! Mgrela smiled sadly at the men around him. "He felt it all!
A gloomy silence filled the boardroom broken only by the ticking of the corperate clock.
"I have to step in here Mgrela. Came the voice of Boyce. "Sorry I haven't had time to bring you up to speed, but new intelligence has indicated that owing to the dynamics of the processor, he felt it all before it happened!
"What! Mgrela was now the one in the dark.
"Yes! Apparently the Pentium 57 processor, when implanted into a non-sentient soft toy is so fast that it anticipates events! Boyce had never looked so earnest. And when combined with "Don't MESSWITH.U.S Touch Me Feel Me' receptor terminals and an " Arghh!.com response network ( which was installed after Binki had anticipated, and executed his escape from the authorities), results in a phenomenal ability to chance the course of history!
"Ability to change the course of history! That's science fiction! Gasped Mgrela.
"Fact now Mgrela! returned Boyce.
The stunned tension in the room rose to a new high.
"What do we do? Grange this time, responding at last to what he had heard.
"He has to be rendered inoperable, of course! Boyce was sombre. "We have to elimi¦
The door flew open and a threadbare teddybear carrying a U-DIE machine pistol burst into the room. "Not so fast gentlemen! He said without moving his lips. "You won't be surprised after what you've just heard that I knew you would come to this conclusion! However this particular bear is not ready for the charity shops just yet. Put your hands on your heads while I advance the plot somewhat.
The stunned humans slowly raised their hands and turned to face the bear.
"Don't even think of pushing that red button under your chair Boyce. This..he waved the gun at them, "will make a terrible mess of your suit in the parallel universe where you thought¦.of pushing it! He grinned menacingly.
He pulled up a vacant chair and scrutinised the tableful of humans along the sights of his automatic.
"You Mgrela, your alternative history is equally unpleasant! In fact, I've had the pleasure of inflicting copious carnage around this table, many times, over the past few days. He glanced sidelong at Sloik and smiled. "You die particularly badly Ken, in all scenarios except the one where you didn't have time to¦.! Personally I think it's time you went to church!
"Anyway just in case you're in any doubt about my resolve¦Mgrela, take your left hand from behind your head. Steady! Leave the other one where it is, and patch into your satellite surveillance.
Mgrela did what he was told
"O.K. Now punch in these coordinates. He reeled off a stream of numbers, a date and time; Four days previous.
Mgrela put in the figures.
"Now display for us all to see!
The screens flickered for a moment before forming into the familiar blue grey of standard CCTV. The scene was that of an alley behind a ballet theatre in New York viewed from above. A yellow skip half full of rubbish was parked close by a doorway illuminated by a low wattage floodlamp. The door opened and a group of figures emerged in high spirits. They spilled out onto the street turning back to talk and joke. There was a movement in the skip and a small figure rose up to lean over the edge. A flash of gunfire followed by screaming, smoke and chaos. When the scene had settled a body lay on the street and the figure in the skip had disappeared.
"So much for Billy Elliot! said the bear. "If you doubted my intentions before maybe that will put your minds at rest. That man abused me and paid up!
The tension in the room was now twangable.
"Dear God! pleaded Sloik. "I had nothing to do with it!
The bear laughed. "You pathetic old men. You set up your operations and think you can step back when the bill comes in. Well you're lucky this time you can, I'm bored of potting you off one by one as you try to hide under the table and behind the water cooler. What matters to me is Jilly and this time I intend to step back and claim my rightful place. I'm going back to 1965 to eliminate the opposition and change the course of history. When I'm finished the last twenty years will be different and our relationship, thank God, will be non-existent. So saying he kicked over the table and walked out.

Jilly is leaning out the bay window, her tousled bunches flapping around her face in the breeze. She is impatiently waiting for her mother to return from the Motor Show. In the background the radio is playing last years great hit by the Beatles 'I want to hold your hand', Jilly sings along with the tune as looks out for her grandfathers Morris Oxford to turn into the street.
Finally her wait is over and the car appears. She runs breathless to the door, her mother will be bringing her a present, a teddy bear she has set her heart on. Mother gets out of the car and struggles up the path carrying her bagful of presents- the guilt tribute of a weekend away from the family.
Jilly jumps up and down in excitement as her mother pulls off her coat and makes her way into the kitchen. Now Jillian her mother says "I managed to get you a bear, but I'm afraid it is not exactly the one you wanted. Jilly starts to cry, disappointment has in seconds washed over her, the anticipation, the waiting, the expectation and now the let down.
"Now. Now. Jillian! Mother is tired after the journey and she did try very hard to get the right bear.
She failed.
The sales assistant had told her that the preferred bear had been hastily discontinued due to problems at the factory. She has failed and she knows what the result will be, she has dreaded and hardened herself to this outcome. She sits the little girl on her lap and hands her a package. "Here open your present, you may find something you like.
Jilly, sobbing, tears at the wrapping, opens the box and pulls out a little teddy.
"Don't like it! she wails, throws it at the floor and runs off to her room.

Later that night Jilly creeps down the stairs in her nighty, her face blotchy with tears of frustration, anger and disappointment, and picks up the bear from the corner where it landed. She cradles it in her arm and peers down at its pinched little face. She thinks of what its name might be. She decides to call it squinty because of its eyes.
Maybe eventually she will get to love it.