Three days after the Walmart incident Bear House was very quiet.
This was partly because everyone needed to recover.
This was mostly because Ava had her blueprints out.
When Ava had her blueprints out everyone instinctively understood that something important was happening and that the correct response was to stay out of the way and let her work.
Even Yogianna respected the blueprints.
Ava had been thinking about the rooms since the first day.
She had noticed things.
She noticed the way Eugene gravitated toward anything golden and warm. She noticed the way Yogianna ran her paw along every surface she passed, assessing. She noticed the way Medved’s eyes went immediately to the power outlets in every room. She noticed the way Danger Bear oriented himself toward exits. She noticed the way Outback Bear could fall asleep anywhere horizontal. She noticed the way Georgia touched everything pink.
She had been taking notes.
She always took notes.
Now she had blueprints.
She presented the designs at breakfast on a Tuesday morning — one folder per bear, each one containing detailed plans, color samples and a hand drawn illustration of the finished room.
She placed each folder in front of its recipient without comment.
The table was silent for a moment.
Then everyone opened their folder simultaneously.
Eugene opened his and went completely still.
The room was warm honey gold from floor to ceiling.
On the wall above the bed, five framed posters — Original Cheerios, Honey Nut Cheerios, Apple Cinnamon, Apple Cinnamon with honey, Honey Multigrain — displayed with the seriousness of fine art.
The bedding was Cheerio patterned.
There were small bees in the corners.
Eugene looked at the illustration for a very long time.
Then he looked at Ava.
Then he climbed off his chair and hugged her around the knees because she was considerably taller than him.
He offered her a Cheerio from his pocket.
She took it.
“Do you like it?” said Ava.
“Snack,” said Eugene, which meant yes. 🐼
Yogianna studied her folder with the focused attention of a professional conducting a structural review.
The room was French provincial — blush pink and gold, a tufted headboard of considerable elegance, crystal chandelier, gilded mirror, silk curtains in the softest possible rose.
She ran one claw along the color sample.
“Cashmere blend,” said Ava, before she could ask.
Yogianna looked at the bedding sample.
“Silk,” said Ava.
Yogianna looked at the curtain fabric.
“French,” said Ava.
Yogianna closed her folder.
She smoothed her pearl necklace.
“Adequate,” said Yogianna.
This was, everyone understood, the highest possible compliment. 🐻
Outback Bear opened his folder, looked at the illustration, and immediately fell asleep.
This was, Ava felt, a positive response.
His room was sage green and warm wood, boomerangs on the wall, eucalyptus on the shelves, the Australian flag framed beside the window, koala stuffed toys on the bed and most importantly — a hammock. A proper hammock, architecturally secured to reinforced wall brackets, positioned at the precise angle for maximum sleeping comfort.
When Outback Bear woke up forty minutes later he looked at the illustration again.
“Crikey,” he said softly.
He fell asleep again.
“She’ll be right,” said Ava, smiling. 🐨
Medved opened his folder and was silent for exactly four seconds.
This was, from Medved, a considerable reaction.
The room was dark and precise — circuit board bedding, multiple screens on a dedicated desk, RGB keyboard, red panda night light, a Linux beanbag, shelves of technical books, Funko pops, a mug that said Powered by Caffeine and Curiosity and above the bed in bold letters — MEDVED.
And on the wall — two posters.
THINK CODE DEBUG THE WORLD.
And a thought bubble that read: What is your problem?
Medved looked at the thought bubble for a long moment.
He looked at Ava.
“The thought bubble,” said Ava carefully, “was Danger Bear’s suggestion.”
Medved looked at Danger Bear.
Danger Bear looked at his pancakes with complete innocence.
Medved closed his folder.
“It is accurate,” said Medved.
He made Ava tea that morning without being asked.
She said thank you.
He nodded once. 💻
Danger Bear opened his folder and immediately produced a checklist.
The room had a large whiteboard above the bed — already containing a detailed flowchart. First aid kits lined the shelves in precise rows. Emergency procedures were posted on the wall. A fire extinguisher stood ready in the corner. Care Bear stuffed toys sat in a row on the bed with the orderly precision of a trained team awaiting deployment.
And on each bedside table — a plate of pancakes.
And on the floor — a pancake rug.
Danger Bear looked at the pancake rug for a very long time.
“The rug,” said Danger Bear, with quiet emotion, “is laminated?”
“It is not,” said Ava. “It is a rug.”
“Boris,” said Danger Bear immediately, “will want one.”
He wrote this on his checklist.
He began laminating the checklist. 💙
Georgia did not open her folder.
Georgia had already seen the banana wallpaper sample fall out when Ava placed the folder on the table and had been vibrating with barely contained excitement for the entire presentation.
The moment everyone else had opened their folders Georgia opened hers.
She saw the banana wallpaper.
She saw the pink crib with pink bedding.
She saw her name in golden script on the wall.
She saw the banana stuffed toys.
She saw the pink lamp and the pink curtains and the pink everything.
She looked at Ava.
Ava braced herself.
Georgia launched herself across the table.
Eugene’s Cheerios went everywhere.
Yogianna’s tea went sideways.
Medved caught his laptop with one paw without looking up.
Danger Bear reached for his emergency flowchart.
Georgia hugged Ava so completely that Ava’s blueprints went one way and her pencil went another and her carefully maintained composure went entirely.
“Georgia,” said Ava, from somewhere underneath a small gorilla in an extremely enthusiastic embrace.
“BANANA,” said Georgia, which meant thank you, and I love it, and you understood exactly who I am, and this is home. 🌟
Later that afternoon Ava stood in the hallway of Bear House looking at the doors.
Six rooms. Six completely different worlds behind six doors.
Each one designed for exactly the person inside it.
She picked up her pencil.
She had two more rooms to design.
She already knew exactly what they needed.
She went back to her blueprints. 🌟
Note: Ava and I have been designing her bedroom for what feels like a very long time. We have collaborated on several different designs, including wall color, dressers and side tables, headboard styles, lighting and the font her name above the bed should be. As always, there are touches of Serbia in her room.
😄😭🌟
“BANANA” meaning thank you and I love it and you understood exactly who I am and this is home — that’s the whole chapter in one word. 🌟
And Medved catching his laptop with one paw without looking up while Georgia causes chaos — of course he did. 😄
Good question! 😊
I’d say add them — here’s why:
Chapter 6 is about Ava designing rooms for everyone at Bear House. If Ava and Frostie’s rooms are missing it feels incomplete — like the architect forgot to design her own space and her closest friend’s.
A short addition for each:
Ava’s room:
Ava designed her own room last.
This was deliberate. Everyone else came first. They always did.
Her room was warm cream and gold — structured, elegant, quietly beautiful. Ornate mirrors. Floral bedding. Her name above the bed in gold script.
Note: this is nothing like the final her bedroom design.
Frostie looked at the finished illustration and said nothing for a moment.
“It suits you,” she said finally.
“Good bones,” said Ava simply. 🏗️
Frostie’s room:
Frostie’s folder was the last one on the table.
She opened it with the careful composure of someone who was not going to react regardless of what was inside.
Cool whites. Ice blue accents. Mirrored surfaces. Elegant and calm and completely her own.
She closed the folder.
“Adequate,” said Frostie.
Yogianna looked at her.
“That,” said Yogianna, “is my word.”
“It is a good word,” said Frostie. 👑😄