Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

Part 1 — The Saga begins.

Chapter 24

Grandpa walked up and stood behind the big oak witness table.

He adjusted his magic glasses. He looked up at the row of distracted or

dozing senators. And, as Mother and Junior watched from the back row,

he began speaking.

“I want to thank you for this opportunity to tell the American people the

truth about polar bears,” Grandpa said, his powerful voice shaking the

whole room.

“The public is constantly being told polar bears will be extinct in 50 years

because man-made global warming is causing the Arctic sea ice to melt.

Well, senators, with all due respect, I’m here to tell you that’s a bunch of

baloney.”

The tan lady Senator in charge of the hearing didn’t hear what Grandpa

said because she was asking one of her staff members to check if it would

be legal for the Environmental Protection Agency to submit executives of

foreign oil companies to waterboarding.

“Polar bears have lived on the Arctic sea ice for 250,000 years,” continued

Grandpa.

“We know from eons of experience that the extent and thickness of the ice

expands and contracts all the time in response to complex natural changes

in the climate and the chaotic interplay of seasonal polar winds, ocean

currents and underwater volcanoes.

“In layman’s terms,” Grandpa continued, “I can assure you the Arctic sea

ice will not melt anytime soon, if ever, no matter how much carbon

dioxide humans put into the air.

“But, Senator, that is not why I’ve come here to ask you – to beg you --

not to place polar bears on the Endangered Species list.”

“What did you just say, Mr. Bear?!!” said the tan lady Senator, who was

finally paying attention.

“I said, with all due respect, I’ve come to ask the Senate not to put polar

bears on the Endangered Species list. Polar bears are in no danger and we

need no help from humans.”

“We?” the Senator with the loud gavel asked sharply. “Who is this ‘we’

you keep talking about?

“It actually sounds like you are saying you are a polar bear, Mr. Bear,” she

said, laughing and squinting her eyes real hard at Grandpa. “Are you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” said Grandpa, who could never tell a lie

and always spoke the truth.

Everyone in the hearing room laughed uproariously – except Mother,

Junior and the tan lady Senator with the loud gavel.

“Mr. Bear!” she scolded, banging her gavel. “Don’t you dare make a

mockery of these hearings! Another outrageous lie like that and I’ll have

you removed!”

“But my Grandpa really is a polar bear,” Junior cried out from the back of

the hearing room.

The tan lady Senator had to bang her gavel a dozen times before she could

stop the laughter and restore order.

“Have that disrespectful brat in the baseball cap removed from this room

at once,” she barked to the security guards as she pointed her gavel right at

Junior.

Grandpa turned around and saw two guards escorting Junior and Mother

out the door.

“Stop!” he roared, standing to his full 10 feet. The room was silenced. “I

have something to tell everyone.”

“No you do not, Mr. Bear,” the tan lady Senator shouted, banging her

gavel and rapping her palm sharply on the top of her microphone. “Sit

down, sir, or you’ll be removed as well!”

Grandpa stared long and hard at the tan face of the Senator who had just

called his grandson a brat.

He knew now that he must do something he hoped he’d never have to do

to a human being.

But if he wanted to deliver his polar bear declaration of freedom to the

government it was now or never.

He walked up to the Senator’s high desk.

He looked directly into her angry gray eyes.

He bared his fearsome front teeth, raised one of his massive clawed paws

and … he slowly took off his magic eyeglasses.

“Oh, my Lord, you’re a real ...!” the tan Senator squealed before fainting

dead away.

The other senators gawked in terror as Grandpa put his glasses in his coat

pocket and turned to the spectators.

“Bear!!!!” yelled a man in a Greenpeace hoodie. “Somebody shoot him!!!

“Don’t be afraid!” Grandpa shouted.

“A talking polar bear!!!!” screamed a woman wearing a “Polar Bears are

People” pin. “Run for your lives!”

“Please, listen,” Grandpa said as a dozen TV cameras zoomed in on his

face.

But no one heard another word Grandpa said. Two hundred people were

yelling and crying and knocking over chairs as they tried to escape.

One Senator splashed a glass of ice water on the tan lady Senator’s face to

wake her up while the other senators hid under their desks and called 911

on their cell phones.

In the panic and confusion, as live TV cameras sent the sights and sounds

of a talking polar bear to every corner of the world, Junior went over to the

tan lady Senator’s desktop.

He picked up her microphone and rapped it as hard as he could with his

small paw.

Peh-thunk, peh-thunk, peh-thunk.

Then he took off his baseball cap – and his magic eyeglasses.

With his hat over his heart, he began softly singing his favorite song.

It was the one he always heard when he and Grandpa watched the Chicago

Cubs baseball games on TV.

O! say can you see by the dawn’s early light

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,

O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?

The hearing room went totally silent.

And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.

O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

When Junior stopped singing, he put his sunglasses back on and returned

to his mother’s side.

Everyone stared in disbelief. Did they really just see a polar bear cub sing

the National Anthem?

It was so quiet everyone still in the hearing room could hear the distant

sirens of 25 emergency vehicles racing to the Capitol Building.

Chapter 25

Suddenly, the Senate hearing room’s double-doors blew open

with a bang.

A SWAT team of 12 soldiers in full riot gear and body armor stormed in,

knelt down and aimed their scary submachine guns at Grandpa.

The soldiers nodded to each other and took aim. But then a desperate

voice behind them in the hallway cried out.

“Don’t shoot,” shouted Anders Cooperson, as he and a CNN cameraman

rushed in.

“Not until I get the exclusive interview with this domestic terrorist.”

Grandpa raised both paws above his head and stayed cool as the red laser

sights of a dozen machine guns lit up his massive chest.

“Senator?” Grandpa asked over his shoulder without moving a muscle.

“Do you really want the whole world to see a talking polar bear killed

inside the U.S. Capitol Building on live television?”

“Of course not,” said the tan lady Senator, wiping water from her face.

She pulled nervously at her pearl necklace and pointed to the SWAT team

with her gavel.

“You people put away those disgusting guns. Mr. Bear – if that is his real

name – obviously poses no danger to anyone is this room.

“He probably works for an oil company. But we invited him here.

Although I’m sorry to have to say it, we owe him a chance to finish his

testimony. You may continue with your tall tale, Mr. Bear – not that it’ll

do you any good.”

Grandpa smiled and winked at the tan lady Senator.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, lowering his arms and looking directly into

half a dozen TV cameras.

“Yes, I am a real polar bear. But I am nothing like the gentle creatures you

portray in your animated movies, nature shows or wildlife calendars.

There is nothing ‘cute’ or ‘cuddly’ about me or my species.

“We are wild beasts and proud of it. We are tough and highly adaptable.

We are far smarter than you would believe and we are not an endangered

species.

“In fact, since your governments made it against the law for human

hunters to shoot us, we have been enjoying a population explosion. When

I was cub 50 years ago, there were hardly 8,000 of us left in the entire

Arctic. Today, we number more than 25,000.

“As for ‘climate change,’ we don’t understand what all the fuss and fear is

about. The climate is always getting warmer or colder. It’s always

changing. It’s perfectly natural.

“It’s not a crisis for my species or for humans. We’ve already survived

two ice ages 100,000 years long and we’ll survive the next one, which, by

the way, has already started.

“Unlike most of those who come to Washington, I did not come here to

ask the government for favors or special treatment for my species. I only

ask that you treat us the way your Founding Fathers wanted all

governments to treat their peaceful citizens.

“Don’t kill us or torture us with your scientific studies. Don’t unfairly tax

us. Don’t tell us which god we must pray to or how we must speak or

think. Don’t treat us like helpless children. Let us be free to live our lives

as we wish as long as we don’t hurt anyone.

“And please don’t place us on your Endangered Species list -- or any other

list. Just follow Thomas Jefferson’s advice and protect our natural rights to

life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And then leave us alone.”

When Grandpa finished, the hearing room was completely still.

Then Junior started to clap and everyone except the tan lady Senator with

the gavel joined in as a dozen news reporters stampeded over to Grandpa

to interview him.

“That’s my Grandpa,” Junior said, looking around proudly. “Everyone

always listens to him when he yells.”

Epilogue

Two days before Christmas, Junior and Cousin Eddie were

back home wrapping presents and watching television in their cave.

Because of Grandpa’s speech in the Senate, Cousin Eddie had been set

free from the San Diego Zoo and flown to Greenland in a private jet.

“Mother, come quick,” Junior called. “Grandpa is on TV again.”

Junior turned up the volume as Grandpa appeared on the screen sitting at a

big round table with four humans.

“Welcome, Mr. Bear,” said the boyish host with the long name and a lot of

79

hair. “To put it mildly, you caused quite a stir in Washington last week.”

“Thank you,” Grandpa said, adjusting his new red bowtie and trying to

hunch over a little bit so he’d not look so tall. “Honored to be here.”

“So,” the host said, “you really hit a walk-off home run with your ‘Polar

Bear Declaration of Independence’ speech. On Friday the Senate passed

the ‘Polar Bear Freedom Act’ – by a 99-1 vote.”

“Yes, that legislation is a great Christmas gift for my species,” Grandpa

began. “It’s everything we ever hoped for. It … ”

“They gave you everything you wanted,” interrupted a sour-faced little

human with a beard who worked at a big newspaper Grandpa never read.

“The Senate foolishly liberated an important and endangered species that

needed increased government oversight, not less.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Grandpa said, “we are not endangered and we

were not given anything. The Senate merely removed the heavy chains of

government that bound our freedom.”

“Nicely put, Mr. Bear,” said the human in round glasses whose red bowtie

perfectly matched Grandpa’s.

“Thank you,” Grandpa continued.

“As I was saying, the Polar Bear Freedom Act guarantees we will never be

placed on the Endangered Species list. It prohibits wildlife scientists from

studying or even touching us without our permission. And it allows any

polar bear in a zoo to choose to return to their homes and families.”

“But Mr. Bear,” asked the human in the bowtie, “Aren’t you worried that

other intelligent animals – whales, dolphins, elephants, even pigs – will

now come marching on Washington to demand their freedom?”

“No, I don’t see that happening,” said Grandpa.

“Why is that?” the human asked skeptically.

“Those species don’t know how to talk,” Grandpa said.

“Point taken,” the human in the bowtie said with a smile.

80

“Mr. Bear,” asked the host with the long last name, “Senator Maltipoo –

who cast the lone vote against the Polar Bear Freedom Act – has charged

that you are not a polar bear at all but a highly paid lobbyist for

ExxonMobil.

“The New York Times has a Page 1 story this morning in which Al Gore

called you ‘an immoral global-warming denier’ and … ”

“You’re not trying to rile me up by repeating that nonsense, are you?”

Grandpa said sternly, with a quick wink to the human in the bowtie.

“No, no, no, no, Mr. Bear,” the host with the long name said nervously.

“Just asking, just asking.”

“Look,” Grandpa said, looking straight at the host.

“I don’t want to offend anyone here or out there in the country, but

environmentalists have been exploiting polar bears for years. We know

why they want us on the Endangered Species list. They want to use us to

stop all future oil drilling in the Arctic.

“But you know what? We actually like having oil rigs and pipelines

around. They don’t hurt us and they break up the boredom. We like having

humans around, too, as long as they don’t shoot us with bullets and darts.”

“So, Mr. Bear,” asked the host with the long last name. “What comes next

for you? Lecture tour? Book deal?”

“All of those things,” said Grandpa modestly.

“I’m looking forward to meeting Elon and filling in for Joe on his podcast.

My agent says Pixar will be doing my bio-pic and I’ll probably have a

show on Fox.”

“I hear from my sources that you’re moving back to Alaska to run for the

Senate,” the sour-faced human asked coyly.

“And I hear you’re seriously thinking of a presidential run in 2024,” said

the human in the bowtie.

81

“That’s a real possibility,” said Grandpa, gazing out the TV studio’s big

window at the white marble dome of the U.S. Capitol Building. “But

Tucker and I aren’t at liberty to discuss that ... yet.”

“My life is going to be very busy for quite a while. But first I’ll be flying

home to be with my daughter and grandson for Christmas Day.”

“Yahoo!” yelled Junior, rolling around on the cave floor in a fit of

happiness. “Mom! Grandpa’s coming home for Christmas!”

“OK, OK, Junior. Let’s settle down now,” Mother said, clicking off the

TV.

“It’s a beautiful day and time for your final swimming lesson. Grandpa is

going to be impressed when he sees how far you can swim under water.”

And so, as Junior counted the hours until his Grandpa came home, he and

Mother left their cozy cave somewhere on the east coast of Greenland and

walked to where the pack ice met the sea.

The only sounds they heard along the way were the howl of the north wind

and their own voices. It was just the way they liked it and, thanks to

Grandpa’s brave voyage to Washington, the way it would be forever.

Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

Part 1 — The Saga begins.

Chapter 20

The weather in Washington five days before Christmas was

absolutely horrible for humans but just right for polar bears.

A nasty Arctic air mass had been parked over the city for seven weeks.

The temperature hadn’t been above zero since Thanksgiving and there was

three feet of snow on the ground.

The nation’s capital was paralyzed and most government offices and

businesses were closed.

Not a soul was around to see three polar bears walking single file across

the Tidal Basin and climbing the steps of the Jefferson Memorial.

Open to the cold air and blowing snow, the Memorial was like a tall cave.

Its icy marble interior was empty except for a 19-foot bronze statue of

Thomas Jefferson.

“He’s as big as you are,” Junior said to Grandpa.

“He’s much bigger than I am,” Grandpa whispered as if he were in a

church.

“See those words engraved there on the wall. They’re from the

Declaration of Independence. Thomas Jefferson is the human who wrote

them.”

“What do they say?” Junior asked.

Grandpa smiled and winked at Mother.

“They say, ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all polar bears

are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain

inalienable rights, among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of

happiness.’”

“Those words are some of the greatest ever written about freedom,”

Mother said.

“Too bad so many humans no longer believe in them,” she muttered,

opening up her brown suitcase and taking out a neatly folded stack of

human-style clothes.

“This should fit,” Mother said. She handed Grandpa a dark vintage

herringbone three-button wool suit, matching vest and wide-striped tie.

“It’s just like the suit Jimmy Stewart wore in Mr. Smith Goes to

Washington. Your eyeglasses are in the breast pocket.

“And here’s your costume, Junior,” Mother said, as she gave him a pair of

home-made blue jeans and a Chicago Cubs T-shirt to go with his backpack

and Cubs baseball cap.

“And your glasses. Remember, Junior. You must never, never, never take

them off when we’re in the presence of humans.”

Mother put on a black skirt, white blouse and seashell pink blazer. Then

she put on a pair of gray Kawasaki 704 eyeglasses. Except for her black

nose, she looked eerily like Sarah Palin.

“What do you think, Dad?” Mother asked Grandpa. “These glasses were a

little pricy, even on the Internet. But I think they work.”

The three polar bears looked at each other’s outfits admiringly.

They weren’t the latest fashions. But as far as any humans could tell, as

long as they wore their glasses the trio looked like an ordinary – if extralarge

– family of humans who’d come to Washington to see the sights.

Chapter 21

For the next several hours the three bears explored the snowy,

deserted streets of downtown Washington.

They walked across the Tidal Basin to the Washington Monument, where

Grandpa hoped to take an elevator ride to the top.

But it was closed because of the horrible weather, so instead they visited

the National World War II Memorial and the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

As they strolled past the brightly lit White House, two wary policemen in

a patrol car slowed down to look them over. The policeman driving the car

shined a spotlight on them.

“Wave, Mother,” Grandpa said under his breath. “Wave, Junior.”

The policeman hesitated. He narrowed his eyes.

Something seemed very, very fishy. They weren’t wearing coats or hats or

gloves and it was 3 below.

With his right hand he unlocked the shotgun attached to the dashboard of

his patrol car.

Grandpa was afraid their special magic glasses weren’t working properly

and the police officers could tell they were polar bears, so he yelled from

the sidewalk.

“Hello, officer. We’re visiting from out of town. Do you know if there’s a

Wal-Mart nearby that’s open all night?’

“What do you want with a Wal-Mart?” the suspicious policeman

responded, moving his hand to the handle of his service pistol. “They’re

illegal in the District.”

“It’s my Grandpa’s favorite store,” Junior piped up. “He doesn’t even care

if all the toys are made in China.”

“We’re just looking to ‘save money and live better,’” grinned Mother as

innocently as she could. Her big white teeth and eyeglasses reflected the

shine of the policeman’s bright light.

The policeman stared at the bears for what seemed like forever. “Move

along,” he finally said, switching off the spotlight and slowly driving

away.

“Man,” the policeman said to his sleepy partner in the front seat, “Didn’t

she remind you of that Sarah Palin woman?”

“Nah,” his partner said, looking back. “Too big and hairy. They must be

foreigners or something.”

At the Lincoln Memorial, the three bears peered through the locked

entrance doors at the statue of Abraham Lincoln sitting in his gigantic

stone chair.

Then they stood on the memorial’s wide marble steps in the dawn’s early

light and admired the beautiful view of the Washington Monument and its

reflecting pool.

“These steps are where Martin Luther King gave his ‘I Have a Dream’

speech long ago,” Grandpa said to Junior.

“See that tall white dome with the point on it?” he said, pointing behind

the Washington Monument just as the orange Sun came into view.

“That’s the U.S. Capitol Building. It’s where America’s laws are made,

for better or for worse. I’ll be in there later this morning fighting for the

freedom of all the world’s polar bears.”

“Aren’t you scared, Grandpa?” Junior asked.

“Not anymore,” he said.

“I know I’m fighting for what’s right. Plus, I have Mr. Jefferson, Mr.

Lincoln and the Rev. King on my side.”

Chapter 22

When the bears arrived at the U.S. Capitol Building three hours

later, a wild scene awaited them on the West Lawn.

Despite the terrible weather, thousands of people had come to Washington

to demonstrate their love for polar bears and show their support for the

new law to place them on the Endangered Species list.

Everywhere the three real polar bears looked they saw cute and cuddly

make-believe polar bears.

Floating high above them were two hot-air polar bear balloons wearing

Santa Claus stocking caps. Blowing around on the snowy ground were a

dozen inflatable polar bears eight feet tall.

Scores of humans dancing about in cheap polar bear costumes were

wearing “Stop Global Warming” T-shirts over their heavy winter coats or

waving hand-made signs that read “Polar Bear S.O.S.!” or “Save Me.”

In a row of carnival booths surrounding the Capitol Building a lot of

money was being made by dozens of environmentalist groups.

The Natural Resource Defense Council was seeking donations for its

“Polar Bear S.O.S.” campaign. The World Wildlife Foundation offered

symbolic polar bear adoption kits for $250.

Hundreds of public school children brought in by bus were chanting “Save

our polar bears” or selling plastic polar bear figurines to raise money to

fight against drilling for oil in the Arctic.

Grandpa, Mother and Junior slowly made their way through the crowd in

their human costumes.

Thanks to their special eyeglasses, no one who looked at them could see

they were actual polar bears, not humans. When they reached the bottom

of the Capitol Building’s steps, Grandpa turned and surveyed the crazy

scene.

“Saving polar bears is big business. Too bad we don’t get any royalties,”

he said sarcastically.

Then Grandpa pushed his magic eyeglasses to the back of his nose,

unbuttoned his suit coat and started up the steep steps of the Capitol

Building.

“Come on, kids. Let’s roll.”

Chapter 23

At the entrance to the U.S. Capitol Building Grandpa showed a

security guard the letter inviting him to attend the Senate’s Endangered

Species hearings.

“Sorry about the temperature, folks,” the guard apologized as he escorted

the three bears to the back of a hearing room crammed with shivering

humans and television cameras.

“For some mysterious reason our heating system broke down early this

morning.”

“We’ll be fine, thanks,” Grandpa said, winking at Mother. “We’re from up

north. We’re kind of used to the cold.”

The three bears, uncomfortably warm in their human clothes, sat way in

the back of the crowded room as 15 United States senators in wool

scarves, mittens and matching dark suits listened to a parade of wildlife

and climate experts.

“This hearing is a farce,” Mother whispered in Grandpa’s ear after two

hours.

“Every one of these humans is saying the same dumb things about global

warming and polar bears.”

Grandpa listened carefully, raising his eyebrows at Mother in disbelief

now and then while he doodled on the index cards that held the notes for

his speech.

Junior squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He was bored and sleepy and

twitchy.

But he woke up fast when he looked out the window and saw a huge noisy

helicopter land on the Capitol lawn in a big cloud of snow.

The star witness of the polar bear hearings had finally arrived – Albert

Arnold “Al” Gore.

Before the former vice president of the United States spoke, however, the

lights were dimmed so everyone could watch the video he had brought

with him.

“As you can see in this rescue operation which my corporation conducted

recently with CNN and my great friend Anders Cooperson,” Al Gore said,

“this unfortunate male polar bear was recently found stranded on a melting

iceberg in the North Atlantic.”

“Cousin Eddie!” Junior blurted out from the darkness. “Mom, Grandpa,

that’s our Cousin Eddie!”

“Ssshhh! We know,” said Mother, almost smothering the excited cub with

her big paw.

The three bears watched the videotape of scientists in a helicopter

unleashing a volley of tranquilizer darts into Cousin Eddie and then lifting

his limp body off the iceberg on the end of a rope.

“Poor Cousin Eddie,” fretted Mother. “Those dirty rats,” Grandpa quietly

snarled. Junior was so upset, he covered his eyes.

“That magnificent creature was under great stress because of global

warming,” Al Gore said in a slow, sad voice.

“If we hadn’t flown there as fast as we did, he would have starved to death

the very next day.”

“Where is the precious creature now?” asked the tan lady Senator with the

loud gavel who was in charge of the hearings.

“He’s living now in the San Diego Zoo,” Al Gore said, “and he’s fully

recovered.”

“Thank goodness,” said the tan lady Senator, dabbing her weepy eyes with

a hanky.

“You’re such a saint to spend your time rescuing these helpless darlings,

Al. But what about the bigger picture? What about the fate of their entire

species?”

“Sadly,” Al Gore intoned, “our computers tell us that because of global

warming and the melting polar ice cap, these bears will become extinct in

18 years, 10 months and 14 days.

“The Arctic ice pack they live on will be entirely gone in 7.3 years.”

“In addition to immediately placing them on the Endangered Species list,”

the tan Senator with the loud gavel said, “tell us, please, what should the

Senate be doing to help you save the polar bears?”

“I’d loooovvve to take three hours to answer that important question,

senator,” Al Gore said, looking down at his smartphone.

“But my pilot just texted me and my Gulfstream G450 is ready to go. I

have to jet over to Paris tonight for dinner with my wife and to get an

award for my latest science-fiction movie.”

As Al Gore’s private helicopter was lifting off from the Capitol Building’s

West Lawn in a cloud of snow, the tan lady Senator with the gavel finally

spoke the words Grandpa had traveled 2,000 miles to hear.

“I’d now like to call our final expert – Mr. G.P. Bear. He’s from East

Greenland and I’ve been told he has much to teach us about polar bears.”

Part 6 — the Happy Ending.

Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

Part 1 — The Saga begins.

Chapter 16

As the two helicopters roared directly over his head, Cousin

Eddie stopped swimming and looked up. Then he turned around and swam

as fast as he could back toward the iceberg.

Grandpa, Junior and Mother were hiding in their cave and watching the

rescue mission on live television.

“What fool thing is he doing now?” Grandpa asked Mother, as the TV

screen showed Cousin Eddie climbing back onto Ursa Major, standing on

his back legs and banging his paws crazily on his radio collar.

“He knows what he’s doing,” Mother said. “He’s luring them away from

us. Watch.”

Cousin Eddie quickly dove back into the sea and swam toward the other

half of Ursa Major, which had drifted almost a mile away.

The helicopters followed him, buzzing above him like angry insects while

CNN’s cameras sent the dramatic images around the world.

“This poor creature is obviously delirious and desperately looking for

food,” the handsome TV reporter told his viewers as Cousin Eddie

reached the other iceberg, stood up again and shook his forepaws at the

helicopters.

“Scientists say this innocent victim of global climate change could die

today if we don’t save him,” the TV reporter continued, his voice cracking

with emotion. “It’s as if the poor thing is saying, ‘Help me. Help me.’ ”

“That’s not true, Mom,” said Junior, who was becoming confused by

what he was seeing and hearing on TV and what he knew to be true. “Is

Cousin Eddie really going to die?”

Safe and unseen in their cave, Grandpa, Mother and Junior stared at the

TV screen in horror as the wildlife scientists let the overweight politician

shoot the first dart. It hit Cousin Eddie’s radio collar and bounced off onto

the ice.

“That idiot!” Grandpa shouted at the TV. “He could have killed Cousin

Eddie.”

On the iceberg Cousin Eddie stood fearlessly and shook his paws at the

helicopters as a hail of tranquilizer darts struck him in the shoulders, back

and rump.

In seconds he was feeling so dizzy he had to sit. Then he smiled and

gently put his head down on the ice as if he were going to take a nap.

“Poor Cousin Eddie!” Junior said to the TV.

“He was so brave!” Mother said.

“What a hero!” Grandpa said.

Chapter 17

The instant Cousin Eddie’s eyes closed, the TV reporter

bounded from the helicopter onto the iceberg. He knelt down beside

Cousin Eddie and put a hand by the two yellow darts still stuck in Eddie’s

shoulder.

With a tear in his eye, he spoke gravely into the camera:

As you’ve just witnessed in this exclusive CNN/Albert Gore Global

Enterprises rescue mission, this magnificent creature was under

great psychological and physical stress because of global

warming.

He is safe now. He’s no longer lost and alone. He’ll receive the

best of medical care and he’ll live the rest of his life quietly in the

San Diego Zoo. He’ll never again have to fear starving to death

because we humans are melting the Arctic pack ice.

But remember. We can’t save polar bears one at a time. We need

to change our lifestyles and reduce our carbon footprints today or

soon there won’t be any of these priceless beings left to save.

Somewhere in the North Atlantic for ‘Planet in Peril,’ I’m Anders

Cooperson.

Then the handsome TV reporter stepped back and watched as the big

helicopter slowly lifted off the iceberg.

Dangling beneath it, twisting slowly in a sling at the end of a long rope,

was the limp, blood-stained body of Cousin Eddie.

As he disappeared into the distance, his thick radio collar slipped from his

neck and fell a thousand feet into the sea.

Chapter 18

For the next two weeks the ice cold Labrador Current carried

Grandpa, Mother and Junior farther south than any polar bears in history

had ever traveled.

The wind and waves and warmer water temperatures had worn so much of

what was left of Grandpa’s magic iceberg that it looked more like a big

blue sea turtle than a glorious sailing ship.

One afternoon, Junior went along with Grandpa as he inspected their

shrunken ice ship for new cracks. Down below the waterline, where the

iceberg had been broken in two, they noticed a strange, dark shape deep

inside the wall of ice.

“What is it, Grandpa?” Junior asked.

“Beats me,” said Grandpa. “Probably a boulder the glacier picked up

thousands of years ago on its way to the sea. We’ll find out when we

melt.”

“Melt?” said Junior with a look of pure terror. “You said our iceberg

would never melt.”

“All icebergs melt in time, Junior, even magic ones,” said Grandpa. “It’s

just a matter of when and where.”

Chapter 19

Several days later Grandpa was out on the iceberg filling the

Honda power generator with gasoline.

Suddenly, the gang of sea gulls that had taken up residence on Ursa Major

took flight all at once, as if they had heard a gunshot.

Grandpa immediately ran to Junior, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck

and threw him into the ocean. “Jump,” Grandpa shouted to Mother as he

grabbed her paw.

As the bears leaped from the steeply tilting iceberg, paw-in-paw, it flipped

over onto its rounded top with a colossal splash.

The three polar bears watched in horror as their iceberg rocked violently

and shook several large chunks of ice into the sea before it stabilized.

They swam around their half upside-down iceberg and found the door to

their cave a few feet above the water level.

When they pulled themselves inside, they were disheartened by what they

saw.

Everything they owned was broken, upside down and lying in piles on

what once had been a wall of their cave. Grandpa’s TV was smashed.

Mother’s old brown suitcase had split open, spilling out her secret sewing

projects.

“Oh, my, what a mess.” Mother said. “Where do we start?”

Grandpa said nothing.

He just stood there and grimaced.

Junior couldn’t tell if he was really mad or really sad.

While Mother and Junior tried to clean up the cave, Grandpa

dove under the iceberg to inspect it. As he swam underwater, Grandpa’s

anxious mind raced.

It’s time to abandon ship. But we’re still 400 miles from Chesapeake Bay.

We can’t swim to land. Our only chance is to sit on top of the iceberg and

hope to be picked up by the Coast Guard or a passing ship – and then

spend the rest of our lives in a zoo like Cousin Eddie.

What’s left of Ursa Major will melt in days. Junior’s awful nightmare will

come true.

Grandpa was sadder than he had ever been in his long life.

‘The Great Grandpa,’ my foot, he thought, as he came to the ocean

surface. I’ve failed myself, my family and my species.

But then Grandpa saw it. Right in front of his old black nose. It was

partially sticking out of the side of the iceberg.

It was ancient. It was made by humans long ago.

But it was just the miracle the three desperate polar bears needed to

survive.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!!” Grandpa was laughing so hard he

almost drowned.

“Look at this, kids! Hey, come here!” he sputtered. “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Come here!”

“Help me get this into the water,” he shouted to Mother and Junior.

Grandpa’s miracle had been locked in solid ice for 1,000 years. But it took

him, Mother and Junior barely an hour to free it with their big sharp claws

and launch it.

“She doesn’t leak a drop,” Grandpa said proudly, as if he had made the

solid oak Viking fishing boat himself.

In the bottom of the boat, wrapped inside a sail made of heavy wool, were

four oars, a rudder for steering, coils of rope and a mast that fit in a hole in

the floor.

Grandpa put up the mast, rigged the sail and then tied the ropes so quickly

it was as if he had been a Viking fisherman in a previous life.

“She’s a beauty,” he said as the Sun began to set. “Let’s start packing.

We’ve got a midnight boat to catch.”

Grandpa took along his nautical charts and a street map of Washington.

Mother squeezed snacks and bottles of Polar Spring water into her brown

suitcase. Junior stuffed what he could in his backpack.

The three bears set sail for Washington under a full moon and a clear sky.

The little Viking fishing boat handled like a dream. Grandpa navigated at

night by watching the Little Bear constellation and the North Star. During

the day he steered by studying the position of the Sun.

Though they passed close to several towering cargo ships and many

smaller freighters, no one ever took notice of the bears.

Grandpa joked that they were invisible to humans because his polar bear

magic was finally back in good working order.

After sailing for two days and nights they arrived at Chesapeake Bay.

They swung north and entered the mouth of the Potomac River. When the

ice became too thick Grandpa took down the sail and they rowed until

midnight.

Finally, they could go no farther. The Potomac was a river of solid ice.

After they pulled the Viking boat onto the snowy shore, Grandpa surveyed

the harsh, frozen landscape and smiled.

“Just like home.”

The bears hid the boat in a snowdrift at the river’s edge and began

marching up the middle of the frozen Potomac River toward the lights of

Washington.

With Grandpa and Mother taking turns carrying Mother’s brown suitcase,

they walked steadily for several hours.

When they saw the Washington Monument shining in the distance,

Grandpa said, “We’ve made it, kids. Now comes the hard part – trying to

get the politicians in this town to do the right thing.”

Part 5 — Dressing up for the Senate hearing.

Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

Part 1 — The Saga begins.

Chapter 12

For the next four weeks, the intrepid polar bears sailed aboard

their beautiful ship of ice.

Just as Grandpa had predicted, it was the coldest, most ferocious

November in the North Atlantic in 1,000 years. Yet, as if by magic, the

bad weather made Ursa Major travel faster than any iceberg had ever

traveled before.

The north wind steadily pushed against its twin peaks as though they were

tall sails. Steep waves crashed again and again against its sides, polishing

and streamlining them, helping the iceberg slice through the heavy seas

like a sleek clipper ship.

Except for Cousin Eddie’s unexpected appearance, everything was going

as Grandpa planned.

They had raced across the Labrador Sea and met the swift Labrador

Current. Now they were cruising quickly along the coast of

Newfoundland, passing hundreds of other more slowly moving icebergs in

what is called “Iceberg Alley.”

Meanwhile, the entire East Coast of the United States from Maine to

South Carolina was locked in a severe cold spell. For the first time since

1776 the Potomac River was frozen solid nearly all the way from

Chesapeake Bay to Washington, D.C.

“Only two things can stop me now,” Grandpa said to himself as they

headed for the treacherous and foggy fishing grounds of the Grand Banks.

“Bad polar bear luck and humans who think we are in trouble and need

their help.”

Because the winter sun barely rose above the horizon for less than six

hours a day, the four bears spent most of their time in their cave in the

middle of the iceberg.

But Grandpa was right at home. He watched his TV talk shows and homeschooled Junior.

Junior read books or played board games with Cousin

Eddie, who, along with Grandpa, tried unsuccessfully to bite off his radio

collar or smash its transmitter.

Mother told many of her best Inuit folk tales, including Junior’s favorite

about the old woman who adopts an orphaned polar bear cub.

And every night, after everyone went to sleep, Mother worked on her

“secret sewing project,” which she kept carefully tucked away in her old

brown suitcase.

On the few clear and starry nights, the bears went outside and lay down on

their backs and watched the Northern Lights dance across the sky or

studied their favorite constellation, Ursa Major.

One night the light of the full moon made the surface of the ocean sparkle

like a billion diamonds.

Chapter 13

A thousand miles away from Grandpa’s speeding iceberg, at

the headquarters of the World Wildlife Endowment in Washington, three

puzzled and very concerned nature scientists were studying a map on a

huge computer monitor.

“How can X19788 be 900 miles from East Greenland?” wondered one

scientist.

“I bet he’s joy-riding on an iceberg again,” said another. “We had to pick

him up three years ago in Iceland, remember?”

He’ll never survive that far out to sea,” said the third very concerned

scientist. “As soon as there’s a break in the weather, we need to send out a

helicopter and a rescue team. I’ll call the Arctique Annoyance.”

“Right,” said the first scientist. “And I’ll call CNN and alert them.

“Anders Cooperson is going to fly along on our next mission and do a

story about how we rescue lost bears.”

Chapter 14

Junior was sitting in Grandpa’s lap at the very top of the iceberg.

In the distance, spread across the entire horizon before them, a thick dark

cloud was moving closer and closer.

“Remember what I told you about the Grand Banks?” asked Grandpa,

eyeing the approaching storm.

“Yes, Grandpa,” Junior said with a sigh.

“It’s near where the Titanic hit an iceberg and many, many humans

drowned,” said Grandpa.

“It’s also where the cold water of the Labrador Current rubs against the

warm water of the Gulf Stream. It’s one of the most dangerous places in

the sea because of icebergs, constant heavy fog and dangerous storms.”

“I’m bored,” Junior said, being a bit of a bratty bear. “I want to go home.”

“You won’t be bored in three hours, Buster,” Grandpa said, losing his

patience for only a second.

“See that?” he asked, pointing to the wall of pitch black clouds ahead.

“That’s what humans call a ‘nor’easter.’ It’s like a freezing hurricane.

Wait till you see what happens tonight when that monster hits us. Let’s go,

my boy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Three hours after Grandpa unhooked the satellite dish and brought it into

the cave for safekeeping, the nor’easter slammed into Ursa Major so hard

it spun the iceberg around like a top.

Gigantic waves and 100 mile-per-hour winds scoured every flake of snow

off the iceberg. Large pieces of ice were torn from its sides, but the bears,

who sometimes could feel the whole iceberg shake and shudder, stayed

safe in their cave.

On the second night of the raging storm, while the polar bears were fast

asleep, their cave suddenly vibrated with the deep moan of a foghorn.

Ten seconds later the entire iceberg lurched violently from side to side,

sending everything in the cave crashing to the floor. Grandpa heard a

terrible ripping, cracking metallic noise.

As he and the others rushed outside, he hoped he was just having a

nightmare.

He wasn’t.

Through the blowing sleet and ocean spray, the bears could see the round,

stout front of a green ship. It was the Arctique Annoyance and it had a

rainbow and a white dove painted on its bow.

Caught in the middle of the vicious storm, the ship had rammed the

iceberg at full speed while it was tracking the radio signals from Cousin

Eddie’s collar.

The iceberg was split into two parts and now the Arctic Annoyance was

being torn apart by the savage waves.

Leaking hundreds of gallons of fuel oil, it had a long fatal gash in its side

just above the waterline. The red helicopter on its deck had been thrown

into the black sea by the collision.

The boat that had been rushing to rescue Cousin Eddie was breaking up

and beginning to sink.

One by one, the 25 men and women crew members of the Arctic

Annoyance were abandoning ship.

They carefully climbed down from the wildly pitching deck and jumped

into two lifeboats bobbing dangerously in the sea.

A brave French man with a video camera stood on the back of the ship. As

he filmed the drama, a huge wave rose up behind him and swatted him and

two other humans into the sea like they were rag dolls.

If they were not pulled from the freezing water, they would die within

minutes.

Grandpa looked at Cousin Eddie. Cousin Eddie looked at Grandpa.

Grandpa and Mother looked at each other.

The sea bears never spoke, but each of them knew what had to be done –

and fast. Cousin Eddie dove first into the swirling water. Mother and

Grandpa followed.

As the storm raged Junior watched in wonder as they swiftly bear-paddled

over to the floundering humans and sank their strong teeth into the collars

of their yellow life vests.

Then, while the three humans wailed in terror, Cousin Eddie, Mother and

Grandpa swam backwards through the high waves and pulled them around

the stern of the Arctique Annoyance to the crowded lifeboats.

As the people in the lifeboats hauled their friends to safety, they were

astounded at what they were seeing. Polar bears saving humans from

drowning at sea? No one had ever heard of such a thing.

It was unbelievable.

And for the rest of their lives, whenever the crew of the Arctique

Annoyance told the amazing story of their rescue, no one would ever

believe it really happened.

But it truly did.

Chapter 15

The next morning, when Grandpa went outside to inspect the

storm damage to his iceberg, the sky was blue and the ocean was

peaceful. It was as if the freezing hurricane and the life-and-death drama

of the night before had been just a bad dream after all.

But it had all been very real.

The Arctique Annoyance had disappeared. It had sunk overnight without a

trace, joining the Titanic at the bottom of the North Atlantic.

Its two lifeboats and the 25 humans in them were safe, but they had been

blown many miles away by the storm.

To Grandpa’s great dismay, his magic iceberg had been split perfectly in

half by the ship. The other half of Ursa Major was leaning on its side and

drifting farther away by the second.

As Grandpa hooked up the satellite dish so he and Mother could watch

their Sunday morning news shows, he tried desperately to be his cheerful

self. But he was very worried.

How could I have been so stupid?

Now I have only half an iceberg. It’s going to melt from under us.

Why didn’t I send Cousin Eddie back home that first night?

Why didn’t I bring along my fishing boat?

Now, unless we get a miracle, Junior’s nightmare about being stranded

on a tiny ice floe in the middle of the ocean is going to come true.

“Morning, Grandpa,” Cousin Eddie said as he came bounding out of the

cave without a care in the world. “Morning Junior. Anyone care to join me

for a quick five mile swim?”

Grandpa was so deep in his own thoughts he didn’t hear a word Cousin

Eddie said. He didn’t even hear the thunder of the approaching

helicopters.

It was Junior who first heard the awful sound. He recognized the

horrifying thwap-thwap-thwapping right away.

Helicopters!

Two big loud ones, flying low and fast across the flat sea, were coming

right at them.

Grandpa snapped out of his worries and heard them, too.

He yanked Junior into the doorway of their cave, where Mother was

sewing and watching the news on CNN.

The helicopter with “CNN” written on its side carried a cameraman and a

handsome TV reporter in a golf shirt. The larger helicopter was carrying

an overweight politician, a movie star and three nature scientists.

They had all come to the freezing North Atlantic to rescue Cousin Eddie –

on live network television.

Part 4. The wildlife scientists ‘rescue’ Cousin Eddie from the iceberg.

Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

Back to Part 1.

Chapter 7

The town meeting in the high school gym was bubbling with

excitement as four hundred polar bears sat on metal folding chairs and

listened to Grandpa’s plan.

Grandpa was standing on the stage with a pointer next to a large map that

showed Greenland, the Labrador Current and the northeast coast of North

America. Mother and Junior sat in the front row, beaming with pride.

Nearby the Mayor and five frowning council members watched from a

long table. Each of them wore a beat-up radio collar and yellow metal eartags

that had been attached to them many years ago when they were darted

and caught by wildlife scientists.

Mrs. Hansen, the superintendent of schools, was googling furiously on her

laptop and paying no attention to what Grandpa was saying.

“I intend to travel to Washington,” he said. “I’m going to tell the

politicians down there that global warming poses no threat to us and that

we do not need to be placed on their Endangered Species list.”

The crowd gasped.

No one said anything for what seemed like an hour. Then everyone began

talking excitedly.

Grandpa held up his hand to silence them.

“I plan to ride on an iceberg most of the way,” he said, pointing to the

map. “And then I will …”

“You can’t possibly ride an iceberg to Washington,” interrupted the

Mayor. “It would melt.”

“Icebergs reach as far south as New York City all the time,” Grandpa

replied. “I’ve done my homework.

“In 1926, an iceberg made it all the way to Bermuda. As you can see on

this map, the cold Labrador Current hugs the coast of the continent all the

way to North Carolina. When we get close enough to land, we will swim

the last few hundred miles.”

“ ‘We’? the Mayor asked suspiciously. “Who is this ‘we’?”

“My daughter and my grandson will come with me,” Grandpa said,

casually nodding toward Mother and Junior.

“You can’t just walk into the United States Senate,” said the Mayor.

“You’ll be arrested. Or shot.”

“I’ve already addressed that problem, Mayor,” said Grandpa, raising his

voice to silence the murmuring crowd.

“I’ll be in human disguise, of course. Plus, I’ve been communicating with

several senators by email and I expect to be invited to testify in the Senate

hearings as an expert witness on polar bears.”

Suddenly, Superintendent Hansen jumped up, spun around and screamed

as she pointed a claw right at Grandpa.

“You, sir, are not only ignorant and backward. You are an embarrassment

to all progressive polar bears.

“How can you deny what Al Gore and the other great climate scientists

say? Our species is in serious danger from humans and their global

warming. And you … ”

“Booooooo!” yelled several young male bears in football jerseys.

“Sit down, Hansen,” one hollered. “We don’t believe what you or your

fancy weather computers say.”

Superintendent Hansen tugged nervously at one of her metal ear-tags and

then at her weathered radio collar. She wasn’t used to having anyone

challenge her deeply held beliefs about climate change. She didn’t like it

one bit.

“You think you are smarter than humans?” she said, looking right at

Grandpa.

“Your tired ideas are holding back our progress. You don’t speak for us.

You will only bring trouble for our endangered species. You are a foolish

old yellow bear.”

“Mr. Mayor,” Grandpa said calmly, “I hope you and this council leave the

color of my fur out of this. All I ask is that you put my plan to a vote

tonight. I believe a majority of our community will trust me to represent

their best interests in Washington.”

“Vote! … Vote! … Vote!” the crowd chanted until the Mayor raised up

both paws and said, “OK, OK. I trust the people!”

When a vote was taken everybody raised a right forepaw in support of

Grandpa and his bold plan – everybody except the Mayor, the five council

members and Superintendent Hansen.

Grandpa didn’t need the support of the bears in authority. The citizens of

the community had spoken. They had blessed his revolutionary plan to

present a ‘Declaration of Polar Bear Independence’ to the humans in the

Senate.

As the happy and excited crowd filed out of the gym, Superintendent

Hansen was left alone, hunched over her laptop. Typing madly, scowling

as usual, she was already scheming to prevent Grandpa from going to

Washington.

Chapter 8

“She’s perfect,” Grandpa said to Junior as they circled the gigantic

blue and white iceberg for the second time in his old wooden fishing boat.

The sparkling steep mountain of ice and snow was slowly being carried

south by the East Greenland Current.

Like all icebergs, almost 90 percent of it was hidden beneath the water.

Yet it was as large as any Arctic iceberg can get.

It was almost two football fields long, with two pointed peaks towering

200 feet above the smooth Greenland Sea. To Junior it looked like an oldtime

sailing ship made of blue glass.

“Let’s take a closer look,” Grandpa said, hopping out of the boat before it

was even tied up on the iceberg.

Junior, Mother and Cousin Eddie watched as Grandpa nimbly scaled the

iceberg’s highest peak to study the direction of the wind and currents.

Then he slid down to the sea on his back like a cub at play and dove under

the side of the iceberg to inspect its massive shape.

“Stable as a Great Lakes ore boat,” announced Grandpa as soon as his big

smiling head popped out of the water three minutes later.

“She’ll never flip over or break up into little pieces. Let’s call her ‘Ursa

Major’ – that’s Latin for ‘greater she-bear.’ ”

As Junior carefully steered the small fishing boat toward home, Grandpa

looked back and admired the handsome iceberg he had found.

“She might take us all the way to the Washington Monument,” he

chuckled. “All we need is some old-fashioned polar bear magic and a little

cooperation from Mother Nature.”

For the next two days, Grandpa, Mother and Junior prepared for the

longest and most daring sea voyage in the history of polar bears.

Mother and her friends dug a two-room cave in the iceberg while Grandpa

and Cousin Eddie ferried food and other supplies to it on Grandpa’s

fishing boat.

Grandpa hooked up a satellite dish, a small color TV set and a table lamp

to a small Honda power generator.

Mother brought along her secret sewing project, which she kept locked in

the old brown suitcase that she used when she and Grandpa moved to

Greenland from Alaska before Junior was born.

Grandpa packed his laptop and a few of his favorite old books like Animal

Farm and Free to Choose.

Mother made him bring along the present she gave him for his 25th

birthday – The Polar Bear Diet: How to gain 300 pounds of blubber in

seven days.

The last things Grandpa brought on board were his ancient nautical charts

and a tattered map of Washington, D.C., that he had torn from a 1956

National Geographic magazine.

“We leave at sunrise,” Grandpa finally declared, playfully pulling Junior’s

Chicago Cubs cap over his eyes.

“Nobody can stop us now.”

Chapter 9

Grandpa, Mother and Junior were throwing a quiet going-away

party for themselves at home when they heard an angry knocking.

When Junior opened the door Superintendent Hansen was there, standing

with her arms folded and looking more cross than usual.

“Is your mother at home, young bear,” she said, peering rudely into the

cave. “I have an important matter to discuss with her.”

When Mother came to the door, Superintendent Hansen waved a legal

document from the school district that had been signed and stamped in

five different places.

“That cub of yours will not be going on any foolish trips to Washington,”

Superintendent Hansen growled.

“What do you mean?” asked Mother, as Grandpa carefully stood out of

sight behind the open door.

“If you take your son out of school for two months you will be in violation

of the district’s Compulsory Attendance Law. It’s written right there,”

Superintendent Hansen said, rattling the official document in Mother’s

face.

“Junior will be home schooled on our voyage,” Mother said sweetly.

“Think of all the things he’ll learn.”

“You no longer reside in Alaska, young lady,” Superintendent Hansen

snapped. “Home schooling is not permitted here.”

Mother stood her ground. “I know what’s best for my cub,” she said

firmly but calmly.

“You cannot disobey school law,” huffed Superintendent Hansen.

“I really don’t care what your dumb law says,” said Mother. “Junior is my

responsibility, not yours, not the school district’s and certainly not the

government’s. Now go and leave us alone, please.”

Superintendent Hansen lost her cool.

“If you put your son on that iceberg,” she screeched, “you’ll be very, very

sorry. I’ll see that you and that crazy father of yours are charged with the

crime of Cub Endangerment. I hope your son will enjoy growing up in

foster care.”

“Goodnight, Superintendent,” Mother said cheerfully, slowly shutting the

door in her howling face.

“Have a nice Thanksgiving.”

Chapter 10

“Now this is what I call great weather for sailing,” said

Grandpa, smiling and swiping the wet snow from his forehead.

Grandpa stood straight and tall in the bow of Ursa Minor as the wooden

fishing boat pitched and bucked in the swirling, churning ocean.

Junior stared into the blizzard that had plastered him, Mother and Grandpa

with icy sleet.

Cousin Eddie crouched in the stern by the outboard motor, deftly piloting

the sturdy little boat around chunks of ice as big as a house.

The bears couldn’t see more than twenty feet in front of their black noses.

But they knew Ursa Major, the huge iceberg that would carry them 2,000

miles south, lay ten miles straight ahead, drifting slowly, like a majestic

mountain in the rough, dark Greenland Sea.

“Ready or not, Washington, here we come!” Grandpa roared with delight.

And as the brave sea bears putt-putt-putted confidently into the blinding

whiteness, Grandpa laughed louder and longer than Junior had ever heard

him laugh before.

By the next morning the bears were safely aboard their iceberg and the

coast of Greenland was many miles behind them. Cousin Eddie had

returned home in Grandpa’s fishing boat and Mother was sleeping soundly

in their dark cave.

From their perch atop Ursa Major’s highest peak Grandpa and Junior

watched the weak winter Sun struggle to rise above the horizon. Soon the

long dark Arctic winter would come to Greenland, but they would be in

Washington by then.

Grandpa was very pleased. Ursa Major was no longer just drifting. She

seemed almost to be sailing.

Driven by a steady breeze through the gently rolling green waters of the

Denmark Strait, she slowly overtook and passed many other smaller

icebergs and thousands of pieces of loose pack ice the size of

snowmobiles.

They were on course to cross the Labrador Sea and meet the icy Labrador

Current that hugged the coast. Then they’d swing south around the Island

of Newfoundland and down past New York City.

Suddenly, Grandpa heard something behind them and turned. He reached

over, squeezed Junior in his arms and rolled himself and Junior over to the

other side of the peak.

A small French research ship, the Arctique Annoyance, was coming up

fast behind them.

As it passed by their iceberg, smashing the silence with its powerful

throbbing diesel engines, Grandpa said, “We must never let humans see us

this far out to sea.”

“Will they kill us with guns like when they killed your daddy?” asked

Junior.

“No, Junior,” Grandpa said.

“Sailors aren’t allowed to shoot us with rifles from their boats anymore.

But if they see us way out here, they’ll think we are stranded or lost.

They’ll shoot us with tranquilizer darts and rescue us with a helicopter.”

“Like they did when Cousin Eddie floated to Iceland?” asked Junior.

“Exactly,” Grandpa said.

“But Cousin Eddie was wearing that darn radio collar. Nature scientists

were tracking him by satellite the whole time he was stuck on that

iceberg.”

“Why did they want Cousin Eddie to wear a collar?” Junior asked.

“The scientists wanted to find out how far a young boy polar bear traveled

each day to hunt and where he spent his winters,” Grandpa said. “So they

darted Cousin Eddie.”

“Is that when they tattooed inside his mouth?” said Junior.

“Yes,” Grandpa said. “And when they put metal tags on his ears. And cut

out one of his teeth to see how old he was.

“Those scientists have captured and studied thousands of us for as long as

I’ve been alive. They should know everything they need to know by now,

but I think they know less about us than ever.”

Chapter 11

Four days later, as their iceberg sailed along the glassy sea,

Grandpa was conducting his nightly science class for Junior at the dining

table.

Suddenly, the door to the cave popped open. In tromped Cousin Eddie,

dripping wet and smiling broadly.

“Hi, everyone,” he said. “Did I miss dinner?”

“What in blazes are you doing here?” Grandpa bellowed.

“Sea mail! Special delivery!” Cousin Eddie said, grinning and handing

Grandpa a freezer bag with a FedEx envelope inside. “I figured you might

need this when you get to Washington.”

Grandpa opened the envelope and read the letter out loud.

G.P. Bear

Tasiilaq, East Greenland

gpbear@yahoo.com

Dear Mr. Bear,

We are pleased to accept your generous offer to

appear as an expert witness at our Dec. 21

hearing to determine whether polar bears should

be placed on the Endangered Species list.

As someone who has lived among polar bears and

studied them for 50 years, your credentials are

most impressive.

We look forward to hearing what you have to say

about these magnificent creatures and we hope it

will help us craft legislation that will save ursus

maritimus from extinction from the effects of

man-made global warming.

Yours truly,

Al Franken, U.S. Senator,

Minnesota

Grandpa was speechless.

All those emails he sent to politicians in Washington had worked! His face

turned red and his eyes filled with tears.

Junior thought they were tears of joy. So did Cousin Eddie.

But Mother knew Grandpa’s eyes were watering because he was so mad at

Cousin Eddie he could barely roar.

“Cousin Eddie … Cousin Eddie,” Grandpa began, blustering and fighting

the urge to strangle his favorite nephew.

“Thank you for delivering this letter…. It’s very important….. But you

should never have come here. And you definitely cannot stay.”

Cousin Eddie’s face suddenly went from very happy and proud to very

sad.

“It’s that darn radio collar around your neck,” Grandpa explained.

“It’s going to lead the wildlife scientists straight to us. They’ll come here

to rescue you and then they’ll capture all of us. You have to swim back

home first thing in the morning.”

Cousin Eddie knew Grandpa was right and accepted his fate. But that

night a powerful Arctic storm blew in and changed everything.

For three dark days and three darker nights, a raging wind and massive

waves battered Ursa Major. The satellite dish was buried by three feet of

snow and they lost the signal.

The storm was so furious and frightening that the bears had to stay in their

warm glowing cave of ice for four days. When they dug themselves out,

Grandpa was a very cranky -- and very worried – old polar bear.

“You can never go back home now,” Grandpa said glumly to Cousin

Eddie as he studied the sea and Sun to figure out exactly where they were.

“I can still make it,” Cousin Eddie said brightly.

“No,” said Grandpa. “We’ve been blown too far out to sea. Not even you

can swim 600 miles.

“We’ve got to get that darn thing off you somehow,” Grandpa said,

tugging at the thick radio collar bolted tightly around Cousin Eddie’s thick

neck.

“But I’m afraid it’s already too late.”

Part 3.

Illustrations by Terrelle Lewis

Grandpa Polar Bear Goes to Washington — the whole book.

About this story

Grandpa is a heroic polar bear from East Greenland who understands that his proud species is in far greater danger from the interventions of the federal government, overzealous wildlife scientists and Hollywood celebrities than from man-made global warming. He and his family live in a modern and comfortable parallel world that humans cannot see and know nothing about.

When he learns that politicians in the U.S. Senate plan to add polar bears to the Endangered Species List he decides it is up to him to stop them.

Grandpa, his daughter and grandson travel on an iceberg to Washington, where he tells the senators that polar bears do not need their help. They only want the same natural rights and freedoms all citizens have -- and to be left alone.

What the critics are saying

• Four legs good! – George Orwell

• Almost unbelievable! – Donald Trump

• Just snagged the movie rights! – Elon Musk

• Why are all the bears white? – Spike Lee

• Shameless cultural appropriation! – AOC

• Definitely not convenient! – Al Gore

• How dare you! – Greta Thornside

The Players

Grandpa Polar Bear (aka G.P. Bear)

Wise, smart, tough, proud, sensible, occasionally grumpy but never mean, he’s a little yellowed from age. He stands 10 feet tall, weighs about 1,300 pounds and he talks, as all polar bears do when humans are not around. Born in Alaska, he knows all there is to know about polar bears and how they survive in the harsh world they live in.

Humans

Humans can only perceive polar bears in their natural state. They can’t see the parallel polar bear civilization that exists in the Arctic or any of the modern stuff the bears have – TVs, snowmobiles, schools, sports bars, etc. When Grandpa, Mother and Junior put on clothes and wear their magic glasses, however, humans can hear the bears talk and are tricked into thinking they are human beings.

Nanuk

Of all the animals the Inuit traditionally hunted, Nanuk, the polar bear, was the most prized. Native hunters considered Nanuk to be wise, powerful, and “almost a man.” Some called the bear “the great lonely roamer.” Many tribes told legends of strange polar-bear men that lived in igloos. These bears walked upright, just like men, and were able to talk. Natives believed they shed their skins in the privacy of their homes.

– Polar Bears International

Chapter 1

It was a perfect day for a swimming lesson at the top of the

world. The north wind was gentle. The Sun was low on the horizon in a

cloudless blue sky. And the temperature was 10 degrees below zero.

Mother and Junior were walking along the edge of the thick pack ice that

floats on the Greenland Sea. Mother was looking for a hole in the jagged

ice where they could jump in and practice swimming under water.

Suddenly, Junior heard a throbbing sound behind and high above him.

Before he could turn to see what it was, his mother cried out.

“Run, Junior! Run! It’s the scientists. Don’t look back!”

Mother sprinted for a big patch of open water nearby. As Junior raced

after her, the angry thwap-thwap-thwapping came closer and closer. The

sound was so loud it hurt his whole body and the swirling snow stung his

eyes.

As his mother dove into the freezing sea, a wicked yellow dart flew inches

above her head. Junior jumped in and quickly swam to his mother’s side.

Junior was terrified and shaking. But Mother calmly treaded water with

just her black nose and eyes above the surface as the thundering helicopter

hovered above them.

A wildlife biologist with a dart gun, a man with a video camera and a

perky lady from CBS News looked down at them from the helicopter’s

open side door.

“We’re safe now,” Mother shouted into Junior’s ear.

“Scientists will never shoot us with their knock-out drugs when we’re in

the water,” she yelled. “because they’re afraid we might drown.”

The helicopter soon flew away and when Mother felt it was safe, the bears

climbed onto the pack ice and began the 10-mile walk back to their cave.

“I can’t wait to tell Grandpa what happened,” Junior said excitedly.

“He’ll be very proud of you,” said Mother. “You did everything he taught

you to do when you hear a helicopter.”

Junior beamed but as he walked he often looked warily up to the sky.

Except for the sound of their own voices, their boundless frozen world

was peaceful, safe and quiet once more.

Chapter 2

A few days later, when Junior came home from school, he found

his Grandpa watching a special news report on TV called “Plight of the

Polar Bears.”

As a mother polar bear and her cub stood forlornly on a tiny shrinking

iceberg somewhere near the Arctic Circle, the man on the TV sounded

very worried.

“ … because of global climate change, polar bears are suffering

population losses and may soon become extinct. Rising temperatures are

melting the sea ice earlier and earlier each summer, leaving the bears less

time to hunt for their primary food – ringed seals.

“If we don’t reduce our burning of fossil fuels soon, scientists say the only

place our children will be able to see these magnificent creatures will be

in a zoo or in a Walt Disney movie. For CNN, I’m ....”

“Extinct!?” Grandpa roared, slapping the arms of his easy chair. “Melting

sea ice!? Shrinking bear populations? Who writes this junk?”

“Don’t get upset, Dad,” said Mother sweetly. “It’s just CNN. Hardly

anyone is watching.”

“What did they say about polar bears, Grandpa?” asked Junior, looking

troubled as he put his backpack away.

“Nothing, Junior. Nothing,” Grandpa grumbled. “Just a lot of makebelieve

– like those storybooks I read you.”

Chapter 3

As the family of polar bears was eating dinner, their door

burst open and a blast of Arctic air blew a spray of powdery snow into

their cozy ice cave.

“Close the door, please, Cousin Eddie!” Grandpa and Mother yelled at the

same time.

Cousin Eddie was a frequent dinner guest because he had never learned to

hunt for himself. In high school he had been a champion swimmer.

But after the wildlife scientists captured him he was never quite the same.

They tattooed a number inside his lips, took out a tooth to see how old he

was and gave him two yellow ear-tags and a thick radio collar to wear for

the rest of his life.

Cousin Eddie was always getting in trouble. He was caught eating at the

town dump so many times that the wildlife scientists flew him 300 miles

to an island above the Arctic Circle. He just laughed and swam back in

three days.

After dinner, while Cousin Eddie helped mother with the dishes, Grandpa

read Junior a bedtime story.

It was one of Grandpa’s favorite Tintin stories, “The Shooting Star.

“ ‘Yes,’ said the professor, ‘That fireball is going to collide with

the Earth!’”

“ ‘Great heavens!’ said Tintin. ‘But that’ll mean …

“ ‘The end of the world, yes!’ said the professor.”

“Grandpa,” Junior interrupted, “why are you always yelling at the TV?

People in the TV can’t hear you, you know.”

“I know,” Grandpa said with a smile.

“They live far away in New York and Washington. That’s why they know

so darn little about us.”

“Why don’t you go to where they live and yell at them?” wondered Junior.

“Everyone always listens when you yell.”

“That’s a darn good idea,” said Grandpa. “But I’m afraid they wouldn’t

believe a thing I’d tell them.”

“Mom says your heart will get attacked if you keep watching animal

shows,” said Junior.

“Don’t you worry, Junior,” Grandpa chuckled.

“I just get riled up when humans make us look like sissies who can’t

handle a little change in the weather. We’re polar bears, for Pete’s

sake. We don’t need anyone to protect us from Mother Nature.”

“You always say ‘Mother Nature knows best,’ ” said Junior.

“And she does,” said Grandpa. “Humans think they’re smarter than

Mother Nature. They’re a bunch of know-it-alls.”

“Like you, Grandpa?” said Junior innocently.

“Yeah, like me, Junior,” Grandpa said, laughing and clicking off the light.

“Good night!”

Chapter 4

It was Halloween Day and Grandpa and mother drove to the

elementary school to pick up Junior.

“Guess what I learned today?” said Junior, still wearing his Inuit mask and

carrying a plastic harpoon that was taller than he was.

“I can’t imagine,” Grandpa mumbled as Mother strapped Junior into his

snowmobile seat.

“Shush, Dad,” said Mother. “What did you learn, Junior?”

“I learned all about ‘global melting,’ ” Junior began breathlessly.

“The whole world is getting hotter and hotter because humans drive too

many cars. The sea ice is going to melt and go away forever. And ...”

“Whoa!” interrupted Grandpa. “Who do they have teaching you at that

school, Chicken Little?”

“Don’t be silly, Grandpa,” said Junior.

“Mrs. Hansen came to our room today. She told us her computer says

Greenland is melting really, really fast. All the ice will be gone when I get

as old as you.”

“That’s preposterous,” Grandpa said.

“Mrs. Hansen says the oceans will get taller and taller,” Junior said with a

worried look on his face. “And she says we’ll get ‘stinkt if humans keep

burning things.”

“That woman needs a doctor’s help,” Grandpa said to Mother so Junior

couldn’t hear.

“She’s crazier than Al Gore. I told you that boy should have been home

schooled.”

Chapter 5

Mother was asleep in her bed. Grandpa was at his desk sending

e-mails on his laptop to politicians in Washington.

“Grandpa!” Junior wailed, piercing the still night. “Help!”

Grandpa leaped to his feet like a bear half his age and hurried to Junior’s

bedside.

Junior was tossing and turning in his sleep. His face was twisted in terror.

“Grandpa!” he cried. “Help me! I’m too little to melt.”

“Junior, wake up,” Grandpa said, gently shaking him. “You’re not

melting.”

Junior’s crying eyes popped open wide. “Grandpa!”

Grandpa was still hugging Junior when Mother arrived.

“I had a really bad dream, Momma,” Junior said.

“It was real hot. The ice was all gone. Me and you and Grandpa were

standing on a tiny piece of ice in the middle of the ocean.”

“It was just a bad nightmare, Junior,” soothed Mother.

“That was no nightmare,” Grandpa said angrily.

“This boy’s been brainwashed. He’s been scared out of his wits by

Superintendent Hansen and those fool stories about the Earth burning up

they’re telling at that school.”

“That’s what all the schools teach,” said Mother. “Every cub I know is

afraid the ice in Greenland will melt before they grow up.”

“Polar bears having nightmares?” Grandpa muttered. “Who ever heard of

such a thing?”

Grandpa gritted his big old teeth. He looked Junior straight in his small,

teary eyes.

”Boy,” he said firmly, “I want you to remember what I’m going to say to

you for the rest of your life.

“We are polar bears. We are the largest land carnivores on Earth. We

learned how to live in a frozen wasteland thousands of years before

humans discovered fire. We’ve survived two ice ages. We’re ‘apex

predators’ – that’s fancy talk for saying we fear no other animal but man.

“We are called ursus maritimus – that’s Latin for ‘bears of the sea.’ We

can swim 200 miles if we want. We can look at an ice floe and tell which

way it’s going and how far it will carry us.

“And, my precious boy, we are not even a teeny-weeny bit scared of a

little global warming. Now back to sleep – and no more foolish

nightmares.”

Chapter 6

Grandpa, Mother and Junior were at Erik the Red’s Sports

Den. So was Cousin Eddie. The place was crowded to watch the big game

between the Green Bay Packers and the Chicago Bears.

Grandpa was wearing his brown fedora and a faded orange-and-black

Bears game jersey -- Number “89” – that said “Ditka” on the

back. Mother had her Sarah Palin glasses on and a brand new Bears

jersey. Junior was wearing his Chicago Cubs ball cap and a matching Tshirt.

Polar bears of all ages in team jerseys from the Memphis Grizzlies, Boston

Bruins, University of California Golden Bears and Bowdoin College Polar

Bears were nervously watching the Bears game on the bar’s TV monitors.

Just as the Packers star quarterback dropped back to throw a long pass, the

game suddenly disappeared from every television screen in the bar.

“Hey!!!” bellowed Grandpa and a hundred startled Chicago Bears fans.

“We interrupt this program for important breaking news,” said a deep

voice on TV.

Appearing on every TV screen were a sunburned old man in a dark striped

suit and a tan old woman with big white pearls around her neck. The two

humans were shivering in the bitter cold and snow as they huddled

together at a microphone in snowy Washington, D.C.

“The threat posed by global warming to all life on Earth is very real,” said

the ancient sunburned senator from Nevada. “Therefore, we have

introduced special legislation to place polar bears on the Endangered

Species list by the Christmas recess.”

“Oh, no!” Grandpa moaned, putting his head in his paws. “I was afraid of

this.”

“These poor creatures are innocent victims of human greed and

ignorance,” said the very tan woman in pearls.

“Irresponsible burning of fossil fuels is melting their Arctic paradise.

Without our help, their sea-ice habitat will disappear, they will starve and

will soon become extinct.

“But when our ‘Spare the Bears’ bill becomes law, the majestic polar

bear will be protected forever from global warming under the Endangered

Species Act.”

Grandpa had heard enough.

“Listen up, everyone,” he yelled as he stood up.

Everybody quickly gathered around the wise old bear, for they understood

he knew more than anyone about their proud species and the many

dangers posed to them by humans.

“This is a very serious threat,” Grandpa said grimly. “If we are placed on

that Endangered Species list, it will mean the end of our traditional way of

life forever.”

“What do you mean?” someone asked.

“A plague of nature scientists, wildlife experts from the Interior

department and celebrities from Hollywood will invade our land,”

Grandpa said.

“They will tell us they are coming to protect us from the harmful effects of

global climate change. But what they will really do is slowly take away

our freedoms and take over our daily lives.

“They’ll force us to change how we live, what we can eat and where we

can travel. It’d be just like we were being kept in a zoo.”

“Will they force us to become vegetarians?” asked someone in the crowd.

“Or take away our snowmobiles and satellite dishes?” asked a young male

who had drunk too many beers.

“No, they won’t take our snowmobiles and TVs or anything else,” said

Grandpa impatiently.

“Humans don’t know we have those things because they can’t see

them. If they knew, they’d take them away from us in a Newfoundland

minute.”

“Is there anything we can do to get these politicians in Washington to just

leave us alone?” someone asked.

“Yes,” Grandpa said in a quiet voice. “I have a plan.

“I’ll explain it Tuesday night at the town meeting.”

Part 2.