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The Life of Another - Chapter 38

© Jake Atkinson

P.O.V. - Roger - Time warp to the beginning of Spring break, 1.5 weeks forward

"Hey we're already to the front of the line, nice."

Nick gave me a sidelong glance. "Are you serious? We've been inching forward for the better part of an hour. Good thing we left early or I'd be worried about missing our flight."

I shrugged off my backpack and set it on the conveyor belt alongside the other passenger's carry-on bags. "Has it been that long? Ah well, a couple more minutes and we'll be through security and relaxing in the executive lounge."

"Next" declared a slack-jawed security guard.

With an encouraging wag from Nick, I stepped forward into the body scanner and raised my arms. Much to my relief, no alarms sounded and I was waved over to a table to pick up my backpack. The Bear behind it seemed about as interested in his job as his counterpart at the scanner, looking dully over my shoulder with unseeing eyes. That is, until the aforementioned Jaguar cleared his throat from behind me. "Pull, code D."

Life returned to the Bear's eyes and he stood up straighter. "Step over to the line." he said, gesturing towards a worn strip of tape on the floor.

I cocked an ear quizzically, but moved aside as indicated.

That Cat must have noticed my glowing tail. I knew I should have tied my jacket around my waist. Good thing I loaded up on all that valium while we were in the taxi, otherwise I'd be flickering like hell! Damn, AM I flickering?!

My eyes crossed as I tried to look at the top of my muzzle for signs of trouble.

"This isn't a joke kid. Ticket?"

"Huh?" I said, fumbling through my pockets for the necessary documents.

"Don't go making stupid faces." he muttered, flipping through my boarding papers.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to give the impression that..."

He cut me short. "I need to see your 530-b."

The fifteen milligrams of valium, or was it twenty?, left me perhaps a little too relaxed. "Sure, that's the uh... which one is that again?"

He huffed impatiently. "Your medical papers! The ones that say you can travel safely despite your unique attributes."

Rather than irritate him further by rummaging through my fistful of documents, I simply forked over the whole stack. "Here's my everything. I just got cleared by a doctor yesterday."

"Uh huh." he replied, obviously unimpressed.

I felt a tap at my shoulder and glanced back to see Nick. "Let me guess, code D?" He asked with a crooked smile.

"Yup, not sure what the holdup is."

The irritated Ursine looked up from the disheveled pile in his hands. "Doctor's approval or not, we can pull you from the flight if we think you're unfit for commercial travel. Are you unfit for commercial travel?"

Mortified at talking about my deviances so publicly, it was hard to keep a casual tone despite my sedative infused state. "My fur lights up some, but it's no big deal."

I could feel the press of the other passenger's impatience as we continued to hold up the line, their mumblings and less than subtle stares adding to the strain.

He returned my paperwork. "Hold you hands out at your sides and spread your paws."

"This is all routine Roger, try to relax." Nick offered supportively. "Think about how much fun we'll be having tomorrow at the beach. I still can't believe you've never been in the ocean before, you're going to love boogie boarding!"

"Step back, son. One at a time." grumbled the guard, waving his hand at Nick.

Nick grinned sheepishly and moved away while the bear produced a wand, passing it over my body with special attention to my tail.

Ugh, this is so humiliating! Seriously, is anyone NOT staring at me?!

Appearing almost disappointed at my lack of radioactivity, or other hazardous discharges, he wordlessly jabbed his thumb towards the exit.

Phew, finally! I thought as I grabbed my backpack and waited for Nick.

People continued to glare at me for a moment but quickly shifted their ire to Nick as he was subjected to the same treatment. Considering his inability to turn off his empathic abilities, I was initially concerned for him, but he seemed surprisingly unfazed by it all.

Offering Nick the same lack of respect I had received, the guard eventually waved him through.

"At last! Now, back to the fun!" Nick declared as he retrieved his bag. "Come on, the lounge is on the far side of the moving walkway."

Although still feeling self-conscious from the security episode, seeing Nick prancing about like an excited cub quickly distracted me. "Oh those are for seniors and stuff!"

"Too late!" Nick teased, stepping onto the slowly sliding surface.

I avoided the moving path but fell in step beside him, the handrail between us.

"It's not like I'm in anyone's way. Despite that crazy line at security, this place feels almost deserted." commented Nick, his tail wagging. "Besides, it's fun!"

"Ya know, it does look kinda fun!" I gripped the rubber handrail and swung myself over.

"Hey, careful!" exclaimed Nick, his ears momentarily flattening in surprise. "With all the tension from those recent terrorist attacks, people will get jumpy if you do stuff like that."

"Ok, ok! Geez Moommm!" I drawled jokingly, bumping his shoulder with mine.

Nick's eyes narrowed. "There's something different about you. Have you been around Ms. Thurlington lately?"

"Just in passing, she hasn't been my counselor in over a week."

"So you can't do the cabin trick any more, right?" Nick asked, still carrying a tone of suspicion in his voice.

"No. Well, I dunno really." I corrected myself. "I haven't tried it since that miserably awkward pajama party with the girls."Let's see if we can change the subject. "Speaking of the girls, I haven't seen much of them since I moved. Do you think I should try to stay in touch, or are they glad I'm gone?"

"Casey was asking about you just the other day." Nick replied as we reached the end of automated walkway. "And actually they're afraid you're getting too distant."

Nick started to say something else, then caught himself.

Drawing him in with a sideways hug, my ears folded in concern. "I know that look. Come on, what's up?"

Tilting his head to look up at me, he hesitated before letting it out. "They're not the only ones who feel like you've been more distant." He said, taking a tight breath. "I know it's harder now that we don't share rooms, but I feel as though you've been avoiding everyone, avoiding me."

I squeezed his shoulder more tightly to mine. "You've only known me for a few weeks. Truth is, I'm usually a total recluse. And now that the initial storm surrounding my arrival at school has passed, I'm just slipping back into my usual pattern. It's not that I want to be away from you, it's that I'm not a social guy." Suddenly remembering the public atmosphere of the airport, I self-consciously dropped my arm from Nick's shoulders. "Every time I stopped by to hang out with you, you had others around. David, Colton, Casey, Jim, Kriana... I like them all. But I'm only comfortable with people when it's one or two at a time."

"You seem pretty comfortable now, and we're in an airport." Nick commented while pulling the VIP pass from his wallet.

"This is different." I responded, pausing until the card scanner beeped and the door slip open. "You see I uh... sorta planned ahead."

Nick squinted and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "Roger, what aren't you telling me?"

We stepped into the restricted-access lounge and, while it was nice enough, it fell far short of the expectations I had in mind. It was smaller than I had pictured, and seemed all but completely devoid of the exotic trimmings I thought I'd find in a retreat for weary, wealthy travelers.

"That I'm crazy high right now." I replied with a teasing grin and wagging tail. "Let's go sit by the window."

Nick's mouth fell open. "What?! Since when have you..." Not wanting him to attract attention, I cut him short, dragging him towards a row of chairs near the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the tarmac.

"Calm down, I'm not high like you're thinking. Technically I suppose I'm low, but is there a such a term?" Affecting the exaggerated tone of a stoner, I exclaimed "Whoa dewd, I'm like, totally low!" Slipping into a chair and turning sideways, I nonchalantly draped my knees over the armrest and placed my paws in the adjacent seat. "Nope, doesn't sound right."

Sitting behind me, Nick dropped his bag to the floor and glowered in my direction, only partially in jest. "Seriously?! You're practically lying down!"

"What?" I declared defensively. "There's like, sixteen chairs and four other people. If it gets crowded I'll move."

Nick responded with a silent stare.

"Fine..." I reluctantly spun to face forward, sprawling my legs out in front of me. "You were in a good mood all of five minutes ago, what happened?" Before he had a chance to reply, I tried to guess. "I'm sorry about being distant, but aren't we making up for it right now? Not only are we together for a whole week, I even agreed to all this running around despite my abject hatred of crowds."

He inhaled deeply, held his breath a moment, and slowly exhaled. "You're not social, I get it. But is that really all it is? And what's with the way you're feeling? These evasive games of yours always leave me with the impression that you're hiding something."

Pulling myself up to a more proper sitting stance, I turned to face Nick. "You learned that breathing trick from me." I said, bumping my nose to his with a subdued smile. "And since we have some serious time to kill, and I'm chilled to the max thanks to a healthy dose of valium, I'm going to explain everything."

Nick's ears shot up. "You're on valium?! So your new counselor thought drugs would be a better choice than Ms. Thurlington's influence? There's got to be a better way."

Holding my finger in front of my muzzle, I tried to calm him down. "Shhh! Keep it quiet." I glanced around at the few other travelers in the lounge but none seemed overly interested in our conversation. However, a Caracal did catch my attention. The Feline was clutching prayer beads tightly and mumbling something I couldn't quite make out. He seemed to be repeating a phrase and I noticed that every time it cycled, he moved to a different bead on his chain. Nonchalantly keeping an ear towards him, I turned my main focus back to Nick. "How else would I have managed that security checkpoint? With my deviances getting more pronounced every day, there's only so much I can do with meditation tricks and whatnot. Without it I would have set off every alarm in the place under that kind of stress."

His earlier exuberance spent, Nick now seemed concerned. "Roger, that stuff can get habit forming. How long has Mr. Forester had you on it?"

Attempting to split my concentration between Nick and the Caracal, I slipped. "Huh? Oh stop worrying. Not counting this morning, it's been almost twenty years since I've been on it."

Tipping his head in confusion, Nick whined. "How high a dose did you take?! You know it couldn't have been twenty years ago, you're only fifteen!"

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that I finally heard enough of the Cat's words to realize he was reciting a prayer in Turoyo. My ears folded. "Uh, right. Sorry, I'm a little distracted. And I probably did overdo it a bit, just to be on the safe side."

"A bit huh? How little a bit are we talking?" Nick glanced over at the Caracal. "And why do you keep looking over there?"

"Like three or four tablets. Which, in retrospect, was probably overkill." Lowering my voice, I leaned in closer to Nick's ear. "And I just realized that guy is saying a prayer over and over, in Turoyo. And it's not a nice one. I'm terrible at reading Feline body language, can you get a vibe off him?"

"Get a vibe?" He said stealing a look over my shoulder. "His emotions are coming off him in such powerful waves, they're making me feel the same way. He's terrified and grief stricken."

So that's why Nick's mood changed so suddenly! "Must be something serious on his mind. I'm gonna go chat him up."

Nick crossed his arms. "Roger, how can you be so racist? Just because he's Middle-Eastern, doesn't mean he's a terrorist."

"Who said anything about him being a terrorist?" I replied sharply. "Yeah, he's speaking a somewhat rare Aramaic dialect, and Caracals predominantly live in the Middle-East, but that's a Christian prayer he's muttering." I gave his forearm a squeeze. "You know I can't resist helping people. Sit tight and I'll be back in a few minutes."

After giving Nick a reassuring smile, I rose and walked over to the Caracal. Addressing him in Turoyo I asked, "Please forgive the intrusion. May I sit beside you?"

Although his apprehension heightened at my approach, his concern shifted towards surprise at hearing his native tongue. "You speak Turoyo?!"

Taking the chair next to him, despite the lack of a direct invitation, I perked my ears in what I hoped was a friendly manner. "I picked up a little Midyat from some people I used to stay with."

"You are being too modest." he said, tension still gripping his shoulders. "If I may ask, the people who taught you the language, where are they from?"

"A little village in Tur-Abdin." I lied smoothly. "They were good people that taught me many important things. For instance, compassion for a brother." Leaning in and lowering my voice, I continued. "I could not help but overhear your prayer. Tell me, please, is there anything I may do?"

His eyes grew soft and wet. "That I would meet someone who sees me as a brother in such an unlikely place, and a Wolf besides!" He shook his head slowly. "But w_hat could you do? What could anyone do?!_" He dropped his face into his hands.

Damn, the poor guy! I thought to myself. I'm hardly a trained grief counselor, what am I supposed to say to that?! I shared a distant glance with Nick and patted the Cat's shoulder. "Y __ou're right, what can a total stranger do? Hey uh, m_ y friend was kind enough to get me a new phone recently, and I'm pretty sure it can make international calls. Perhaps it would help if you could talk with someone from home?_"

The Caracal lifted his face and wiped at the dampened fur under his eyes. "I __t lifts my spirits to find such genuine kindness." He replied with a new resolve hardening his features. "I can see it in your soul. Despite your few years, you have seen hardship too. And yet you still have room in heart to reach out to strangers." He swallowed hard. "The next Pan-Am flight out is number 444, are you scheduled for that one? Or perhaps you are very early for another?"

"M __y friend and I are taking 444 to Coronado." I replied.Thinking smalltalk might lighten the mood, I commented, "My friend's father let us use his VIP pass. This is my first time in an executive lounge."

"Your friend, is he that poor disfigured boy?" he said with a gesture in Nick's direction.

Although his words were harsh, I knew he didn't mean them disrespectfully. "Yes, but I would appreciate it if you would not refer to him in such a manner."

"I apologize, I did not mean to offend. Would you summon him over please? I would like to meet him."

Buried deep within the valium's gentle caress, a distant flicker of paranoia vied for my attention. Nonetheless, I waved Nick over. "Uh sure, but he doesn't speak Turoyo."

"Who doesn't speak a little English in today's world?" he asked rhetorically as he rose to shake hands. "It is nice to meet you... forgive me, I do not know your names. My name is Ahmet."

Nick shook hands while I filled in the void. "Sorry, my name is Roger. This is Nick."

Holding Nick's hand with both of his, he paused and looked into his eyes. "You have a good friend Nick."

Nick's tail curled, perhaps finding the Cat's muzzle too close to his own. "Uh yeah, definitely. Are you on our flight, Pan-Am 444?"

"Yes," his voice hitched in his throat. "and no." Turning towards me as he broke contact with Nick, he fell back to his native tongue. "May I take you up on your offer of a phone call?"

"Sure," I said, producing my pristine iPhone 8 and unlocking it. "Help yourself."

Ahmet accepted the phone with shaking hands, and promptly dropped it.

Lying face up on the floor, the device's shattered, darkened screen left no doubt as to whether or not it was damaged in the fall.

"I am so sorry Roger!" exclaimed Ahmet as he bent to retrieve the derelict carcass that was once my pre-release iPhone. "Money does not excuse my clumsiness, but I am afraid it is all I can do. Please, take this."

Pulling a money clip jammed with hundred dollar bills from his pocket, he quickly counted out ten and pressed them into my hand along with my dead phone.

Looking at Nick with flattened ears, a stammering "Uh..." was all I could manage.

Nick returned my glance with a pitiful one of his own, but he found a more substantial response. "Ahmet, it... was an accident. We can't take your money."

"I am not a poor man, you will accept the money or I will be dishonored." he pleaded.

Knowing that Nick had gone to extraordinary measures to procure the phone over a month before its official release date, the thousand dollars hardly seemed adequate. Still, there seemed little else to do. "I uh, of course. We meant no disrespect."

"Then it is settled." he replied before holding out his hand towards Nick. "I realize it is audacious for me to ask after what has just happened, but there is a call I must make. Please, will you trust me with your phone?"

Hesitant at first, Nick chewed his lip only a moment before his soft heart settled the matter. "Er, uh... sure." He unlocked the phone with a quick swipe and passed it over.

His hands overly cautious now, Ahmet gripped the device tenaciously and dialed an international number before holding it to his ear. After a moment, he lowered it and entered another series of numbers before raising it to listen again. Two pronounced beeps echoed from the phone's tiny speaker. His shoulders finally dropping, Ahmet breathed a sigh of relief and smiled shakily as he returned Nick's phone.

"Thank you Nick, for trusting me even though I gave you reason for doubt." Ahmet said, his tone still uneven but somehow more at peace. "And Roger, may we share a moment in private?"

Nick and Ahmet exchanged a brief handshake that almost brought me a laugh, with Nick rearing his head back from the Caracal's still too close muzzle. And, for a moment, time swam. It was as strange feeling, like my world had suddenly been submerged. But it passed quickly and I found myself watching Nick's waving tail as he walked back to our spot by the window. Ahmet seemed to notice the line of my gaze. "You and your friend, you are close."

Perhaps it was the valium, but where I normally would have stiffened and stammered out a plausible deflection of the subject, instead I straightened, saying proudly "We take care of each other."

Ahmet clapped his hand to my shoulder. "There are those who feel qualified to pass judgment on a great many things. Me, I trust God's judgment above all. I had almost forgotten this simple rule, until you reminded me of the gift of God's compassion."

Unsure what to say, I simply smiled in a knowing way, and nodded.

He withdrew his hand and produced the money clip again, still brimming despite the withdrawal for the damaged phone. "God has given you and your friend many challenges to face. May you live long enough to overcome each and every one."

Pressing the clip into my hand with a firm gesture, he give it a single shake and stared into my eyes intently. Then he was gone.

I stood facing the spot where he had been, momentarily transfixed, until a touch at my arm snapped me out of it.

"Roger, you ok?" said Nick from beside me.

"Uh..." I blinked and reoriented. "Was I just talking to a Caracal?"

Nick whined softly, his ears flattening. "You walked away while we were talking and you've just been standing here, staring off into space."

Feeling as if I was only partially awake from a dream that was not yet over, I held up the neatly stuffed money clip.

"Woah, where'd you get that?" Nick exclaimed.

"From a Caracal named Ahmet." I replied, examining the unfamiliar coin embedded in the gold clasp. "You really don't remember meeting him?"

Shaking his head slowly, Nick replied "I think all that valium has you confused."

"Valium doesn't cause hallucinations." I commented with a playful grin. "Spontaneous napping maybe, but none of that stuff. Here, look what he did to my..."

Thinking the phone was in my other hand, I was momentarily confused when I realized it wasn't. After a quick pat at my pockets, I relaxed as I felt its familiar bulge. Pulling it forth, I was only partially surprised to see it was in perfect working order.

With a sigh of relief, I continued. "Never mind. I think we had a little run-in with a mind-controlling deviant." I gestured back towards our chairs. "Let's sit down and compare notes."

P.O.V. - Nick - On the airplane

"It still weirds me out that someone messed with our heads." I said, crossing my arms. "And he took my phone!"

Roger smiled placidly and patted at my forearm. "I've offered you mine over and over. Seriously, take it. You're the only person I'd ever call with it, and we'll be together all week."

"That's not the point." I countered, shifting in my over-sized chair to face Roger more directly. "The whole thing is... is... messed up!"

Roger's ears came down. "Yeah, it kinda creeps me out too. Er uh, want some valium? It really takes the edge off."

"This isn't a joke!" I replied, pulling my wrist away from his touch. "Our trip is starting out awful! First I found out that you're in a school sanctioned, drug induced stupor, then some psycho deviant erased my memory and stole my phone, and finally airport security treated us like delusional cubs reporting a Santa Claus sighting!"

Looking down and away, Roger withdrew the hand that was closest to me. "I'm sorry Nick. I didn't mean for this stuff to happen. But is it really all that bad? He left me enough money to replace your phone ten times over. Hell, we could buy a car! And so security blew us off, kind of a relief really. With all of their 'code d' crap, I was afraid they'd detain us purely out of spite."

How frustrating, it's like he doesn't even hear what I'm saying! He wouldn't be so laid back if it weren't for Mr. Forester doping him up! "That's all fine and logical, but that's not what I'm getting at. Some guy was inside our heads, don't you feel... violated?"

"Of course." he replied while undoing his seatbelt. "But I'm pretty sure he wasn't a mind reader. I think his abilities are limited to more to recent events, stuff that happens in short term memory."

Surprised at the certainty I felt in his convictions, I asked "What gives you that idea?"

Now free of his seatbelt, Roger was able to turn and face me directly. "He asked where I learned to speak his native language and I lied right to his face. If he had some sort of mind reading ability he would have caught it."

"How do you know that?" I countered, feeling that I had discovered a new angle to bolster my view. "He could have just altered your memory so you think he didn't catch it!"

Roger hesitated, taking time to examine his claws. "Because... the reality of how I know stuff like that, it's pretty out there. If he had bothered to really dig into my life history, he would have flipped!"

Roger's got my thoughts running three ways to sideways! He's always doing this! And I still don't think he's given me the full story on how he learned all the stuff he knows. Who absorbs an obscure Middle-Eastern dialect of an almost dead language by meditating on it?! And even if his talent did work that way, why bother with something so unlikely to be useful? Unless it was useful at the time, but why would he...

"Nick, you're just sitting there looking angry." said Roger, breaking my train of thought. "And I don't want to start our vacation off on the wrong paw." Tentatively, he rested his hand on my knee. "We've got five uninterrupted hours, let's sort things out so we can focus on the fun stuff once the plane lands. So, what's on your mind besides creepy, klepto Caracals? You want to discuss the valium some more? Or is it the whole distant thing? Just tell me where to focus."

And with that, Roger's genuine concern washed over me, changing my mood in a heart beat. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've been imagining this trip since we met. By now I thought we'd be excitedly chatting about the beach, or theme parks, or how you plan to sneak into my room late at night."

Roger's tail wagged through the seatback opening and he jokingly shook his fist at the sky. "Damn you reality! Time to turn things around."

He glanced about the airplane cabin and caught the attention of a stewardess.

Although feeling apprehensive, no doubt from our obvious deviances, the Sea Otter hid it well. "Is there something I can do for either of you?" she asked, her tone professionally friendly.

Roger flashed her a smile. "Any chance I could get one of those little bottles of Sapphire gin?"

Not missing a beat, she politely inquired, "May I see your I.D. please?"

A wave of mischievous glee radiated from Roger while he smoothly produced his wallet and pulled forth a driver's license. "Sure, oh and can I get a cup of ice along with a a lime wedge and a bottle of tonic water?"

Surprised, the stewardess accepted the license, squinting at it with a heavy air of suspicion. And, much to my amazement, Roger pressed even further. "Oh and what kind of snacks do you have? A cheese danish would be perfect." He looked to me. "Nick, what do you want?"

"Uh..." I stammered, stunned by Roger's antics. "I'd uh, like a yogurt please."

The Otter returned his license and leaned close to whisper in Roger's ear, her mood shifting from apprehension to a sense of nostalgic, maternal affection. "That's better than the fake I.D. I had when I was your age, but there's no way you pass for twenty-two. Best to save it for a couple years before you try that again Mr. Steinmetz."

She stood up straight, a wide smile brightening her muzzle, and raised her voice. "Now that's one orange juice, a cheese danish, and yogurt... any particular kind? We have strawberry, blueberry, chocolate..."

Mortified at Roger's shenanigans, I shrugged apologetically, my ears folded. "Strawberry sounds nice, thank you."

"Sure, and would you like anything appropriate to drink with that?" she replied, her tail flipping playfully.

"A bottle of water, thanks."

She nodded and, with a final glance at Roger, disappeared down the aisle.

"Roger!" I hissed, snatching the fake I.D. from his grasp.

"Oh relax!" he chided. "I knew she wouldn't buy it. I was just trying to lighten things up."

"Mr. Archibald Steinmetz?!" I exclaimed, looking up from the bogus card. "Where did you get this?!"

"Love the name, right?" he responded, his eyes dancing gleefully. "From Chris, he wanted to pay me back for helping him fix his old Foxwagen Bus."

He reached for the I.D. but I pulled it away. "Huh uh! Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get into with this? And since when does Chris have a car?"

Shrugging, Roger said "I dunno, awhile I guess. Maybe you're confusing him with The Other Chris? I'm talking about Chris, the Tiger."

"Tiger Chris is The Other Chris." I corrected, feeling as though I was stepping into a stand-up comedy routine. "Chris, the Snow Leopard, was at the school first. So the other guy had to take the title of The Other Chris."

Still full of mirth, Roger teased "That's not how Chris tells it."

Flabbergasted at the whole thing, I thrust the card into my pocket. "Oh, that's not the point! I know it's difficult to behave with all that valium in your system, but could you try a little harder?"

Roger's perked ears sagged. "You seemed so down, I just wanted to turn things around."

I pressed the release button for the armrest between us and swung it up, out of the way. "I know you mean well, but stuff like that embarrasses me no end."

Sidling over, I closed the gap between us and continued. "Let's just forget everything and say our trip starts now. And if any of this morning's weird events still seem important at the end of our vacation, then we'll discuss them on the way home, ok?"

"Ok," he replied, our bodies now close enough that I could feel the breeze from his softly fanning tail. "I promise, I'll be a good Wolf."