these they would come right in and take it.”
One little girl gasped.
“It’s okay. These are strong walls. More than strong enough to keep them out. But you don’t want to run into one out in the wasteland.”
“Why not?” one of the children asked.
“They’re strong. Really strong. I’ve seen one rip the door right off a car.”
“Was it your car?” asked another.
“No,” Logan laughed. “Not my car. My car is too fast. And I would never go anywhere near a Super Smart Bear.”
“But you’re strong too.”
“You’re right, but those bears are mean. I mean really mean.”
“Are there Super Smart Bears around here?”
Logan shrugged, “Super Smart Bears are everywhere.”
“Why are they so mean?”
“No one knows for sure. But, have you kids ever heard of Boris the bicycling bear?”
None of them had, and they all shook their heads.
Logan finished peeling the strands from a cable, laid several of them parallel, and began to cut them to similar lengths.
“Boris was a big brown bear that lived in a circus before the world stopped working.”
“And he rode a bicycle?” chimed a boy with glasses that were too large for his face.
“He did. Every night, in front of thousands of people he would ride his bicycle around the ring of the circus. The people would clap and laugh as they watched Boris ride around wearing a little hat and colorful vest. He was a star.”
With the strands cut, he made three equal groups and put them back on the ground.
“And every night Boris the Bear would ride his bike proudly around the ring and listen to the children in the crowd clap for him and cheer his name.”
He rolled each group of fibers together and began to braid all three, pulling tight each crossover.
“But one night, Boris, while pedaling his bicycle proudly around the ring, rode over a banana peel that one of the clowns had dropped. His wheel slipped out from under him, he fell off the bike, and landed on his little hat.
“The children in the circus booed. They hissed and threw popcorn at him. Then the parents yelled at their children for throwing popcorn because it was really expensive at the circus.
“All of this was too much for Boris. He stood up and began to roar ferociously at the crowd.”
“Was he mad?” a little girl asked and then added, “I’d be mad.”
“He was confused. The children had always cheered for him. Now, they were booing him.”
“What did Boris do?”
“He didn’t do anything. His trainer ran up and began to hit him with a whip.”
“That’s mean,” said the little girl.
“Boris thought so, too. So, the next night he refused to ride. But, the show must go on, so the trainer stood in the middle of the ring and cracked the whip at him to make him ride.”
“What did he do then?”
“Boris rode his bicycle. And the crowd cheered and the children clapped. But Boris wasn’t happy. He remembered the time that they booed because he hit the banana peel and fell off of his bicycle. He was no longer happy, but really, really mad. He didn’t like people, or bananas, anymore. And, he really hated clowns.”
Logan secured the ends of the braided cable with a strip of metal crimped on each end. He picked up a piece of 2 x 4. Attached to the end was a notched leaf spring from an old truck. He looped one end of the cable on a notch.
“When the bombs fell, Boris was exposed to some sort of chemical. This chemical made him super smart. He broke out of his cage, hopped on his bicycle and started riding. Not for the people, but for himself. And Boris rode across the country. He met other bears, girl bears, and they had a lot of bear children.”
“Bear children are called cubs,” said the kid with glasses.
“Very good,” he tousled the youngster’s hair, “he had cubs all over the place. But, he never stopped riding his bicycle.”
With little effort, the warrior bent the leaf spring and hooked the other end of his new cable to the opposite