There was no time for her "Be Wee With Bea" rigorous exercise program on the stoolstepper, no weightlifting, graduated or otherwise. There would be no fine motor weightlifting, toe touching or even floor touching. She felt so stuck now as if she were running in place, going nowhere. She just couldn't seem to make progress. It was a very different kind of stuck. She had to find Scruffy. She sprinted from room to room of the cave. Even with all her fear growing and with the fifty bees buzzing around inside her, she was able to do a notice exercise.

For the first time, at that moment, she realized how very, very vast her cave was, or at least, it certainly seemed very expansive right now. He was nowhere to be found. Where could he have disappeared to? Was she so much worse than his family, that he would prefer to go back to sitting under the table on the dirty floor, waiting for a piece of pizza crust to drop from the children's grubby hands?

She decided she'd start doing her investigation exercise looking for Scruffy on all the paths that would be familiar for him. Ah, the first might be where she's met him. She sprinted to that now very empty spot and down to the brook where they had gone earlier yesterday to catch fish for the hungry boy.

You will later learn about why she would want to stop to visit Willow and who Willow was. But for now, it is enough to know that Bea had a wonderful friend who would always be there with undivided attention for her. At this point, she felt like thrashing and crying. Willow had always helped many feel better by just listening. And Bea was absolutely certain Willow would be able to help. For some reason, just knowing she'd be there for Bea, helped her to do her remain calm exercise, an exercise she knew she should have used last night when she evicted Scruffy.

She decided that she could wait to see Willow and stop to see if Timothy her beaver friend was anywhere to be found. If not, then she'd go to see Willow. She was closer to where he was. Even though she hadn't eaten and her tummy was probably quite empty, she did her sprinting exercise hoping to hear the reassuring slap sounded on the water. To their agreement, she would slap the water two times so he would know it was her and not some predator. And he'd answer with one slap. As she came nearer Timothy's Pond, her fears started growing.

What if Timothy wasn't in his lodge. She stood there with her "if only's" and "why's" and "no it can't be's". Then she made her courage get bigger than her fears and sounded two loud slaps on the water. She was waiting and waiting. Had she done her notice exercise, she would have realized that it had been a long time since she had taken a breath. Terrible silence. No sound of water being slapped by a Timothy the Beaver.

Finally. Always finally. When all else fails, Bea remembers to do her talk to the maker of everything. Beavers, Cats, and best of all wee bears. When she heard the gentle slapping on water sound, she knew somehow things would work out. This and the buzzing of bees always reassured Bea. It felt safer for her to wait in the silence and wait and be calm without trying to force a problem to come out the way she thought it should -- not the way the maker knew would be best.

Then she heard a Timothy the Beaver's tail slap sounded one time on the water. She sounded two slaps and there was Timothy swimming right to the edge of the pond. She was so relieved. Surely he'd know what she could do.

At first, she was hesitant to tell him the whole story and how she had acted. But then she remembered how understanding he was about so many of her limitations. So she told him everything that had happened and was as honest as she could be about how she had reacted and didn't even blame Scruffy for her behavior. Even though it was hard not to give him a little blame; she didn't. Then she sadly mumbled that she wasn't sure she deserved to have a friend like Scruffy

Timothy told her that she did deserve to have such a friend as Scruffy. He offered some good suggestions about what she could do. They made a lot of sense to Bea; but she was pretty sure it would mean a lot of work on her part. She had to be ready to do more hard work, but she knew that the maker would always be there to help.

If she would leave Scruffy's bowl full of fish outside the cave and wait for him, he would come back because he knows Bea cares for him. But that was easy. The hardest part would be that she needed to be humble and let Scruffy say what he wanted. When Timothy asked Bea if she had asked Scruffy what he wanted; she had to admit to him that she hadn't even thought of doing that.

Bea was hoping Timothy could save her that painful part. But he said he did not know what Scruffy would want, only Scruffy could answer that question. She thanked him very much for helping and remembered to ask him how he was doing. He said he was doing very well. They said a goodbye to each other and Bea was on her way to follow Timothy's suggestions.

She stopped by the favorite fishing spot to get lots of fish for Scruffy's bowl to be set outside. She placed his yummy smelling bowl at the mouth of the cave, then poised herself in a get ready spot. She was practicing her alert but calm exercise. More waiting. It seemed lately all she did was wait. It did seem like such a senseless exercise, but she knew it was necessary as was all waitings if the desired results were deemed worthwhile enough. Bea felt very strongly that this was worth it. As it grew darker Bea was losing hope. Doing her talk to the maker of hope made waiting tolerable.

There was no buzzing of bees or gentle slap on the water that came next. Only a scraping sound of a Scruffy cat moving the bowl of fish as he ravenously ate. This was Bea's maybe only chance. Instead of Scruffy SPRINGING, it was Bea as she skittered Scruffy and his bowl into the cave. As she did this, in the same breath, she spouted out that she was wrong. So wrong the way she had treated him and she wanted to start over if he would have it that way.

During their discussion, which was very brief, Scruffy said that he needed more freedom. He was not used to being in any one place for very long. He slept with each of the children on their sheetless mattresses. He couldn't stay long with the youngest because his diaper smelled too awful, even for a garbage rummaging scruffy raccoon cat. He admitted he could, eventually, get very used to this way of life. It was just going to take some time. And that Bea needed to give him that time.