In Which Bear Recovers from a Shock, Makes an Important Discovery, and Gets Another Surprise

After standing, shocked, for some time, Bear began to regain his senses.

Bear went out the door. Bear looked up the street. Bear looked down the street.

Nothing seemed to have changed.

Perhaps, Bear thought, this agency was set up partly as a business office, and partly as a tourist attraction. An odd combination. But, well, in a place as odd as this, it makes sense. Or could make sense. In its own, odd way.

Bear thought back to an old Star Trek program. Kirk and Spok had landed on a deserted planet — a planed that seemed deserted. Slowly people began to appear, as if going about their regular business. (That turned out to be a really weird program! Things were not at all the way they seemed.)

The thought brought no encouragement to Bear in the situation. None at all. Not a bit.

Bear was beginning to feel much less certain of anything — including himself.

Was this, perhaps, the replay of a scene from The Wicker Man?

Bear shuddered. His mind was getting away on him. For the first time, Bear felt himself becoming truly alarmed by the incongruity of the situation.

Bear did no like feeling alarmed.

Still, he had his wits enough about him to start formulating a plan. If he were to learn about his new home, Bear became convinced he would need to discover the secrets of the old-looking book on the desk. Being in the Municipal Office, it must have something to do with the community.

Armed with a new fortitude, and tentative sense of adventure, Bear trundled again into the Office, and back to the desk. He opened the book.

Nothing jumped out at him.

He quickly looked through the tome, and discovered his conclusion was correct. It was a ledger, full of useful information. Property details. The whole list of residents and where they lived. The types of buildings — homes, businesses, and more. Inventory of vacant lots. Other notes which Bear could not decipher. Preliminary tax rolls. Some kind of municipal budget in the process of being drafted.

Bear was fascinated. He had hit the mother lode of community information, wisdom, gossip. He wasn't entirely certain about the gossip, but was hopeful. His biggest weakness, that sense of hopefulness. A "Casey at the Bat" sort of approach.

"Ah," cried Bear, joyfully, in something others would have identified as a huge roar. "Now I can get to know who my neighbours are!"

Bear wasted no time in beginning to consider the details in the documents.

Suddenly, Bear, deeply engrossed in his study, was again startled. The front door of the Municipal Office opened.

In Which Bear Wanders About, and Makes Some Discoveries

Blogland Lane is a delightful place. Lots of interesting sights. But no people that I could see.

Which had Bear scratching his head. I know there's at least one person around here. But could I find her? No!

So, instead of wandering vaguely, I decided to take action. After trudging about, I found the Municipal Office. Surely, someone here could set me aright about this place.

I half-expected the Office would be locked up, like everything else. But when I arrived, the door was ajar. (No, not shaped like a jar and made out of glass; it was partly open.) Now, my chance to learn! And see about getting a building permit and all, for my new home. Which means I would be added to the tax roll. Ah, well; the price of being in a community; the price of being a community.

Nobody in. Posters on bulletin boards about an art exchange, an open invitation for folks to drop in for mulled wine and. . . . But those are almost two years old. Around Christmas, 2009.

Hmmmm. Peculiar. A lot of peculiar things in the place.

Nobody at the counter. Nothing on the counter. Nobody at the desk. But on the desk, a large book in a very old style. The kind that needed a key, to remove the post, and take off the cover, so you could add and remove pages. In an era of computers, a utterly incomprehensible way of doing accounting. Antique. And over on the side stand, something else. (Bear creeps up.) A receipt system, in the old "post right" style — must be 50 years old! Another antique.

Then it struck me. Was Bear, perhaps, caught in a time warp? Was I even on Planet Earth? Was this, perchance, the planet of the Apes?

In Which Bear Observes Blogland Lane

Sitting on the bench near the side of the road, the warm sun resting gently on his shoulders, the gentle breeze stirring leaves as it passes, Bear observes the architecture of Blogland Lane.
"All is calm, all is bright."
This is good.
Puzzling, but good.

In Which Bear Arrives, and Is Puzzled

Hello. My name is Bear. Rob-bear. I live at 13eh Blogland Lane. (That's 13A for those of you who aren't Canadyan, eh.)

I'm an itinerant story-teller, five-stringed banjo player, photographer, and would-be artist. I'm also a half decent cook. So it you want a truly decent meal, don't come my way.

My home will meet all relevant building codes, but may appear rather "rustic." There are other words people have used for my habitations in the past. I still think "rustic" is best.

(If we get a really cold winter, I may go into hibernation. I just need to find a cave.)

However, there is a mystery. (Cue theme from Twilight Zone.)

Blogland Lane seems to be deserted. Nobody else here. This is strange. I thought BL would be a very busy community. Yet, um, well. Hmmmm. (Bear casts his eyes around the place, though they stay in his head.) Closed up houses. No lights on. No stores open.

There's got to be a story in this!

{To be continued!}