Aufweidersehen Teddy - final page

The sausage, beans and egg went down a treat. Lying on the grass with my head resting on a tree root, I watched the clouds rush by above. John had pulled his hat down over his eyes and was in the land of nod. Looking at nature all around me, it reaffirmed my belief that you do not need money in order to be happy.

Before daylight laid its head into the lap of night, we stirred ourselves for one last effort. While John went off to the other side of the field, I stayed to search around the base of the tree - the hand of fate resting firmly upon my shoulder!

I dug up several pieces of iron and almost ignored another signal as I did not want any more of the same. But this signal seemed different; almost as if something was reaching out to me. It made me feel rather strange.

My breath came in laboured gasps as I tried to locate the object amongst the large tree roots. Finally spotting the glint of metal I managed to wrestle the object from Mother Nature’s determined grip.

After removing the encrusted dirt, my heart almost missed a beat when I read the inscription that had been crudely scratched into the surface of the dog-tag. The word `Monty` was as clearly visible as the day I had written it, all those years ago!

I did not care about the fresh cowpat that squelched beneath me as I slumped down on the grass in disbelief. How the hell had my childhood teddy come to be in a field in Shropshire? But suddenly the reason was obvious; he had not died, and had been searching for me all those years.

My mind was in turmoil as I thought about the things he must have endured. Dragging his broken little body across the shires of England, he had probably swum swollen rivers, fought off attacks by badgers and was, no doubt, rogered by countless rabbits in the process. Then, when he no longer had the strength to carry on, had sat with his back to a tree and passed away in that quiet Shropshire meadow.

I gulped, went back to the hole and frantically clawed at the soil. Like a chimpanzee picking fleas off its mate, I carefully examined every piece of dirt until I found what I was looking for - a small, glass eye!

I ran the back of my hand across my running nose and fought back the tears.

The eye no longer had the gleam and sparkle of my childhood, but was dulled and lifeless. It looked at me; a pleading, pathetic look, before a tiny pear-shaped tear welled up on its surface. Another followed it, and then another, until the tears formed a saline pool in the palm of my hand, mixed with a tear of my own.

Don't cry, Monty. We are together again now. I will never leave you again, I promise," I whispered softly.

"Colin, have you found anything?" John shouted. Quite startled by his sudden appearance I replied: "no, well, not really."

"What is that in your hand then? Looks like the eye from a soft toy. No good to us Col."

I saw John's arm draw back but could do nothing to stop him. I ran as fast as I could and dived at full stretch, but the eye just bounced off my fingertips as it descended from its high arcing flight.

My distraught cries of anguish shattered the quiet of the evening, as I watched the ripples spread ever wider across the dark water of the pond.

...End