FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Crossroads - Zack - Chapter Four

"Seth, you'd better be getting ready to vacuum!"

"I am, I am! Jeez..."

Zack darted across the kitchen, eyes scanning the counter tops to make sure everything was in place. Their parents would be home at any moment, and he wanted to make sure the place looked nice for when they got here. So far, he had wiped the counter tops, swept and mopped the tile floor, organized the fridge, and done the last of the dishes. What else needed to be done?

Zack stepped out into the living room. "I still don't hear the vacuum."

The teenage black-furred figure glared at him while fiddling with the cable. "I'm doing it! Have some damn patience..."

"Language," Zack said reflexively. "And hurry up. They could be here any minute."

Seth growled under his breath. "Why do we have to clean the house anyway?"

"Because I said so," Zack snapped. "We've been letting the place go since they've been gone. I want it to look nice. And I want you to be pleasant as well."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm going to bed soon anyway."

Zack's eyes narrowed. "I'd really rather you -"

WHHRRRRRR. "What's that?! I can't hear you!"

_ _ Zack grumbled and stalked upstairs to go check on Tristan.

No sooner had Seth put away the vacuum cleaner than the jingle of keys was heard at the front door. Zack's ears perked at the noise as he got up from his place on the couch. Seth got up as well, having decided to sit on the couch and browse on his phone despite his earlier claims. The door swung open to reveal their parents walking in with their luggage.

"Ma! Pa! Do you need help?"

"Oh no, we're fine Zackery, thank you," said his father. He set his suitcase to the side and brought him in for a big hug.

Geoff Bailey was tall, broad-shouldered, and had the same jet black fur as Zack. A pair of glasses rested on his muzzle and he wore a collared shirt with dress pants and a tie, which was loosened around his neck.

Karen Bailey had the less eccentric golden color of her species, with a blanket of black running down her back, as well as the top of her tail. She also wore business attire, her blue eyes positively glowing as she hugged the two children.

"Oh, it's so good time be home again," she said as she embraced Seth in her arms. Releasing him, she glanced around the living room. "Where's Tristan?"

"Right here!" The smaller golden-furred form raced down the stairs and jumped right into his mother's arms.

"There you are!" Karen said as she hugged him. "We heard the good news!"

"Yeah, I got into the play!" Tristan exclaimed. "You're gonna be there, right?"

"Of course, kiddo," Geoff smiled, ruffling the fur on Tristan's head.

Zack's ears perked again, raising an eyebrow in question. Noticing his reaction, Karen spoke up. "Zack, can I talk to you in the kitchen please?"

Zack blinked. "Uh, yeah."

They went to kitchen, away from the ears of the rest of the family. Zack leaned back against the counter while Karen stood across from him.

Karen fixed him with a knowing gaze and uttered, "Are you okay?"

Zack was instantly taken back to just a few days ago when he was venting to his mother in this very same spot. Swallowing, he replied with a simple, "Yes."

Karen relaxed. "See? I told you it would be alright."

"But why?" Zack said exasperated. "Why do you have to be gone so often? Doing these things alone is hard enough and I'm and tired of Seth's shit -"

"I know." Karen interjected, disregarding the jackal's foul language. "I understand your frustration. I really do. We're doing what we can."

"Are you really going to be at Tristan's play?"

"We're going to try. Like I said, we're doing what we can." Karen pulled him close and placed a kiss on his forehead. "You must be exhausted. Why don't you go to bed?"

"Mmph." Zack grunted, indeed feeling very fatigued, for multiple reasons. "Fine."

"Zack," his mother called after him as he headed for the stairs. "I love you."

"I love you too, Ma."

...............................

The next morning found the jackal next to a window, the morning glow projecting the perfect light onto the canvas sat in front of him. The house was peaceful and quiet this Sunday morning, with only the distant sounds of birdsong and the occasional creak as the jackal shifted on his chair. The family usually slept in on the weekends, but he was an early riser by habit.

Soft footsteps traveled down the steps and to the kitchen where he heard the coffeemaker begin to brew. That would be Geoff getting up for his morning coffee. Another noise easily tuned out as he continued painting.

Geoff eventually emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup in his paw. He pulled up a chair and quietly sat beside him, his black fur still a little ruffled and eyes squinted slightly from the morning fatigue. "This the same painting you told your mother about?" The words were spoken softly and quietly, for both of their benefit.

"No," Zack muttered, only slightly breaking concentration. He found that the morning was the best time of day to work on his art. The morning haziness allowed his mind to drift and create without interruption, free of the crippling weight that the day's obligations brought upon it. "It's based on the same one, though."

"Interesting." Geoff took a sip of his coffee; still a little too hot, but the heat was pleasant. "I'd be happy to see the original."

"It's in my room." Zack rinsed his brush in a can of water before switching colors. "I can show it to you later."

"Thank you," his father smiled gently. "Do you mind if I sit here and watch?"

"Not at all," Zack said distractedly. The myriad of colors laid out before him was culminating to a true masterpiece in his eyes. This time, the wolf sat placidly amid a formation of trees and bushes, with a small stream off the side of the picture. A few other animals were half hidden in the scene as well, a fox here, a deer there. Storm clouds brewed overhead, the wolf curled up tightly underneath the shelter of the foliage.

At least, that's what he saw in his mind. There was still work to be done yet; the wolf was there, and most of the greenery was present, but the painting was still far from complete. Not that he minded, of course. The end product, in his view, held less importance than the journey itself. That was where most of the fun was.

"So how is that art club? Still having fun?" Zack had all but forgotten that his father was even there, the gentle rhythm of his breath and occasional sips of coffee mere whispers in the background.

"Yeah. Still fun."

"That's good," Geoff said idly. He tilted his cup thoughtfully, peering at its contents. It was nearly empty. He would be going for his second cup shortly. "Made any new friends?"

"No." Zack began mixing some grey and blue, getting to work on the overcast sky of his painting.

Geoff was silent for a moment and took the chance to down the last of his coffee. After swallowing, he replied, "Can you do me a favor? Try to make some friends."

Zack's muzzle was twisted into a frown, and not just in concentration on his brush strokes. "Why? I'm fine without 'em."

His father sighed. "Zack, you've been such a loner ever since...you know. I just - your mother and I have noticed a change in you that we don't like. And I don't think you do either. I feel that you would be much happier if you had friends to hang out with. It's really not good for you to be alone and stressed out all the time."

Zack was silent. He showed no signs of having heard his father's speech.

With another sigh, Geoff stood and laid a paw on his son's shoulder. That paw radiated warmth. Maybe from the coffee mug. Probably.

"If not for us, then at least do it for yourself, okay?" Without waiting for a response, he delivered a gentle pat on the shoulder before going back to the kitchen.

Zack was still silent.

..................................

Later in the afternoon, Zack went to a nearby arts and crafts store to restock on art supplies. He needed some more paints that he was running low on, as well as some new canvases.

He only stood scanning the shelves for a moment before someone sidled up alongside him. Zack didn't pay him any mind at first, but then the figure turned far enough to see his muzzle.

Zack jumped back, eyes wide. "You!"

The figure flinched as well at his sudden exclamation. His eyes also gleamed with recognition. "You!"

"What are you doing here?!" Zack growled.

Junior gave him glare before turning back. "I work here."

Next to the fox sat a cart full of merchandise, which he had with him in order to restock the shelves. The fox himself was wearing his work uniform, khaki pants and a red polo shirt with the store name _Krafter's_stitched over one side of the chest. Currently, he was busy loading rolls of paper into their rightful places.

"Since when?!"

"Since when did you care?" Junior countered flatly. "Last I heard, you 'didn't give a shit.'"

Zack snorted derisively, arms crossed over his chest. "Thought you said you were over that."

"I am."

"Coulda' fooled me."

Junior huffed. "Look, I don't have time for this. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

The fox grabbed his cart and pushed past him, continuing down the aisle.

"Now wait a second!" A paw reached out to grab the fox's shoulder, but it was roughly shaken off. "Wait!"

"What do you want, Zack?"

"You don't get to act like this!" Zack snapped irritably. "You should be grateful -"

"Grateful?!" Junior whirled around, an expression of deep anger marring his face. "You beat me up, Zack!"

"That was your own fault," Zack replied.

"How is that - you know what, never mind." Junior took his cart to the next aisle. Zack followed him. "I saw what you were about to do to that guy. I'm glad I stepped in."

"You didn't seem so glad afterwards."

Junior stared at him and shook his head in disappointment. "You still haven't changed."

Zack's hackles rose. "What?"

"You're still the stuck-up, egotistical jerk you always were." The fox went back to stocking the shelves. "You can't even recognize when you're in the wrong. It's no wonder you've still got no friends."

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't need no friends!" Zack was shouting at this point. The argument could be heard throughout the whole store now. "I'm happy on my own! Stop fucking prying!"

"Uh huh," Junior said sarcastically. "Remember that the next time you scare your parents away."

There was a loud crash as Zack slammed an arm into the fox and pinned him against the shelf. Several items fell off their perches from the impact.

_"Wanna say that again, you little shit?"_Zack seethed through clenched teeth.

Junior made no move to escape, only stared back stony-faced. "I'm not afraid of you, Zack. Not anymore."

"Excuse me, sir! Please step away from our employee and calm down or we'll have to call the police!" It seemed another member of the staff had noticed their squabble.

Zack growled and reluctantly released him from his hold, Junior angrily brushing off his shirt. "Just stay the fuck away from me," he grumbled before stalking away.

"Gladly..."

It took all his willpower not to react to that last remark. He was easily out of the store within a few seconds, and the short walk to his parked car was a blur. Settling into the driver's seat, Zack wordlessly started the car and began the drive home. He couldn't believe Junior's behavior just now. Damn fox can hold a grudge.

This wasn't good for him. He needed to calm down before he crashed or something.

"Two...four...six...eight..."

Then he remembered those art supplies he had never gotten.

Thump! "Fuck!"