FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Coming!" Mrs. Brillian called, and let the pen in her hand drop as she stood from the kitchen table. She huffed as her knee banged against the chair, and gingerly limped toward the door. She opened its lock and turned its knob, and outside stood the young boy she was expecting of presence, but not of impression.

He was a little unkempt with his hair and clothes, but that was the way boys were supposed to be at his age. He had a band-aid on his arm that looked sort of familiar to her, and his left sock was mismatched. His shoes were worn to the point of falling apart. His plain and old backpack was slung over his left shoulder, the other strap-buckle torn and dangling. Specs of blue paint decorated his white shirt.

He was shorter than she expected, but just as athletic as Emeral described. Barely any fat on his skinny legs and arms; just veins and little muscles. He even looked a little punkish with his posture. But most striking about him, what most betrayed everything on the outside, was his gaze. It was like an adult's gaze--observant, analyzing, intelligent. Like he knew exactly who you were the moment he laid eyes on you.

"Hey there, Ket," she said enthusiastically and smiling, "Come on in, take your shoes off, rest your paws."

"Thank you ma'am," he said a little quietly.

"Oh please, don't ma'am me," she waved her hand, "Call me Garne--Mrs. Garne if you really have to."

"Yes Mrs. Garne," he replied.

She smiled. "Well, Emeral didn't say how polite you were. Then again she didn't menton much about you. You're both in Ms. Hupp's class right?"

The boy nodded. "Uh-hu--Yes," he said, interrupting himself to be more formal. He was obviously a little nervous, but hiding it well.

"Did you remember your swim-trunks?"

He reached behind him and patted his backpack. "Yes, I brought some snacks, too."

She smiled again, her lips never seemed to get tired of it. "Coolio," she said experimentally, and it seemed to have negative results, "Well don't just stand there, drop that heavy thing and come in the kitchen. Emeral's still getting ready. Takes us girls forever, you know?"

He gave a neutral response, and set his backpack down.

It was the first time he'd actually met Emeral's mom face-to-face, but he'd talked to her briefly whenever he called the house.

Even though he knew Emeral's cell-phone number, it seemed rude to call it. Plus, once, he'd called while she was taking a bath, and had spoken to her for a few minutes before she revealed that to him. She never teased him about it afterward, but for the next day he was very on-edge and she giggled very frequently.

In reality it was Mrs. Garne who initiated their get-together today. She called and talked to Ms. Rachaun, inviting Ket to come with them to a private swimming pool. It took a bit of coordinating, but finally he agreed and Emeral couldn't have been happier. "You would think she's getting ready for a pageant or something." Mrs. Garne muttered, picking up a few papers from the kitchen table and offering Ket a seat.

The little clock on the wall ticked and tocked, ticked and tocked.

"Would you like anything to drink? We have orange juice, Kool-Aid..." The mother went to the fridge and opened it, "Um...tea? We don't really drink soda."

"That's okay, I'm not thirsty."

tick-tock.

"Well..." Mrs. Garne shut the fridge, tapping the handle with her finger. At last she began walking to the hall, "I'm gonna see what that girl's up to. I'll be right back, kay?" She heard a quiet acknowledgement as she went into the hallway and down to the bedroom door of her daughter. She rapped it with her knuckle. "Emmy, dear, you ready yet?"

A little groan came from within, laced with dread.

"What's wrong, hun? Are we shy?"

"No!" She said, disgruntled, "It's just..." The doorknob turned, and Emeral appeared, wearing a purple swimsuit, standing in front of the full-body mirror on her closet door, "I think my swimmy's too small...does it make me look fat?"

Mom chuckled. "Oh dear, you're too young to be worrying about how fat you look. Besides," she knelt down, adjusting the shoulder straps and smoothing out the wrinkles across her belly, "You look smokin'. Just put shorts and a shirt on over it and then worry about it when you get to the pool."

The girl grumbled and stomped over to a pair of gym shorts on the floor. She pulled them up and then reached for a t-shirt nearby.

"Oh no not that one, it's got holes in it."

She paused with it in her hands, looking it over. "So?"

"So? You don't want to make Ket think you're a valley-girl do you?"

"Ket sees me every day at school, plus we've been friends for like three weeks," she slipped the shirt on. "He knows I'm normally neat and clean."

"If only..." Her mom said. "Well, I'm going to go buy you some time. Brush your teeth, rinse your mouth."

"I know, I know." The girl waved a hand, facing away from her mother. She went to the closet as Mrs. Garne left into the hall.

A few minutes later, she appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, a duffel-bag across her chest. The shirt she wore was a size too big, and her right shoulder was exposed in the somewhat torn collar. "Morning, Ket," she said.

"She hath emerged," Mrs. Garne orated.

Emeral stuck her tongue out. "So, how long are we gonna be there, mom?"

"I dunno," she said as the toaster dinged, "Couple hours at least, if that's okay. I want to beat that Neat-o Neal forty-love for once."

"Forty-love?" Ket asked a bit nervously.

Emeral smiled coyly, "It's tennis," she said, hopping onto the chair next to him, straightening the collar of her shirt to hide the swimsuit, "Love is what you call zero in tennis."

"Why is that?" He asked as a plate of toast seemed to magically appear on the table in front of them.

Emeral took one and placed it between her lips, giving the I-don't-know chime. She finally bit and chewed a piece, scratching her forehead while her mom picked one up. She looked at Ket. "So...um...you can swim right?"

"Emeral!" Her mom scolded, "Don't be so rude."

"What?" She replied innocently, "Not everyone knows howta swim, mom."

"Maybe so, dear, but it's polite not to ask in such a way."

"It's okay," Ket said a little timidly, "I can swim. I haven't dived in a while but that's like riding a bike...isn't it?"

"Looks like you caught a lucky break, Emmy," her mom said, wiping her hands on a napkin and retreating to the hallway, "You two put your things in the car and I'll be there in a minute okay?"

The two sat quietly for just a moment. Emeral stared at him a little sideways, and he couldn't quite figure it out but something seemed a little off. She was being coy and evasive. She bit her lip, and her eye darted back every now and again. Perhaps it was her hair; Ket hardly ever saw her in a pony-tail, so he wasn't used to seeing her neck or ears so fully. But he found he liked it.

"Just gonna stare?" She asked with a smile.

"Uh..." He looked down at his hands, and quickly hopped off the chair, heading toward his backpack.

She followed, slinging the duffel-bag over her shoulder with a huff.

* * *

"You two are awefully quiet back there," Emeral's mom spoke, glancing in the rear-view. They both looked toward the front, and then back out their respective windows. She sighed, and flicked on the radio, and quickly changed the station to an appropriate one--oldie-moldies would do.

Ket dutifully kept his eyes on the trees and mailboxes whizzing by. He tried to count them, lost track, got distracted with another thought, then tried counting again. For some reason he didn't want to look at Emeral. Not because he was mad at her, or because they had gotten into a fight. It was just the new setting, and her mom sitting up in the front seat. Plus, he practically stared at her all day at school anyway. He wondered if she might be getting annoyed at it, or if it made her feel uncomfortable. She never said anything about it before, but today she was being a little not-Emeral.

He glanced for just a moment, but she was staring at him so he quickly averted his eyes to the window.

"If anyone's alive back there, we're here."

It was a very fancy-looking place. Some kind of club or pseudo-resort. It had stone walls and neatly-trimmed plants and palm-trees. Mrs. Garne opened the trunk while Ket hopped out of the car and Emeral put on her sandals. Each of them grabbed their respective bags and walked down the sidewalk toward the entrance.

The doors were rotary, which Ket had never really seen before. Inside it was cold and air-conditioned. It smelled like mints and lavander, and a trickle-fountain spread a calming noise across the echoing marble. There were plants and grass inside the building, and of course Ket's keen observations picked up on the cigarette butts in the potted plants by the door, right next to the ashtray stand.

Mrs. Garne talked to a desk-clerk, handed over some cash, and then ushered the children to follow along. Emeral seemed at home here, and Ket was all a-stranger. She hoped Emeral wouldn't give the boy a hard time. "All right kids, you gonna be okay on your own?" She questioned paternally as she passed the changing rooms to the in-door tennis courts.

"Sure thing mom," Emeral said.

Ket nodded, staring through his reflection at some adults playing tennis behind the glassed-in courts. His hand was grasped and pulled.

"C'mon Ket, pool is this way," She led him down the green-carpeting, down a long ramp. The wall displayed plaques of sorts--awards, recognitions, citations? Who knew, they were all lost in a blur. They stopped at the bottom of the ramp, two open passages on either side of them. "Here are the changing rooms, that one's yours." She pointed at the one labeled MEN, in the usual iconic figure.

As he disappeared behind the corner, she did the same to her own respective room. She stripped away the shirt and shorts, and rubbed her hands over her stomach. Her swimsuit really was a little small, but she wasn't really worried about being fat, that was just to throw her mom off. She pulled her tail through a little more and shoved the clothes back in the duffel bag, and carried it with her.

The pools were in-door. There were two, but Emeral never figured out why. There were people there, yes, but never enough to take up two whole pools. There wasn't a life-guard at the pool itself. Every parent and child was required to get training to have access to the pool, or else be with someone that did.

It was pretty loud and echoey, splishing and splashing and marco-polo were all the rage. About eight other kids were present, mostly little ones like second- or third-graders. Their parents were either with them or falling asleep on the patio chairs. There were holes in the ceiling and little window-slits on the walls to let some light through, otherwise it was actually pretty dark and dreary.

Emeral slid into the water. It was luke-warm, and made her exposed shoulders cold to the air. The kids swam by, a couple boys fighting in the water. As long as they didn't get too near her. She didn't like getting splashed at. As she waited for Ket she wondered what his water-habits were. He could swim, so he said, and also dive. There was a diving board on the other pool, what kind of dives could he do?

Ket strode out at last. As always he had the most generic-looking clothes. His trunks were black with yellow stripes down the side. They actually looked fairly new. He padded across the wetted cement, approaching Emeral as she came to the side of the pool. "Is it cold?" He asked, setting his backpack aside her duffle bag.

"No, unfortunately."

He started dipping his feet in, but she stopped him.

"Hang on."

"What?"

She pointed at him, "Your shirt. It's gotta come off."

His shoulders dropped.

She shrugged in response. "Pool's rules. Gotta take off all your clothes."

His eyes sort of flashed, and his lip twitched, suppressing a chuckle.

"I mean!" She covered her mouth, "Only swimmys allowed..." It wasn't really a rule...but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

With an exaggerated sigh, he caught the lip of his shirt and peeled it off his torso. It fell to the side in a heap, and he quickly slid in.

She didn't really know why he was so reserved about being shirtless. There wasn't anything to be ashamed of--in fact he would probably turn heads. She'd learned his trick was not to eat too much and work out a whole lot, although how he managed that she didn't know. She tried encouraging him to eat more but his habits were his habits--plus his house barely had food to begin with. His staple was Pop-Tarts, as evidenced by many of the wrappers upstairs.

"Healed up?" She asked, poking his stomach as it wiggled beneath the surface of the water.

"Yeah," he replied, pushing her hand off. His eye glanced over, then back at the water, watching the shadows of ripples against the ocean-green plaster floor. "So...what do we do now?"

"Dunno," she said, kicking her feet. "I didn't know you were coming over until like an hour ago...mom never gives me time to prepare for anything..."

"Sorry," he replied.

She poked him again, "You don't gotta be sorry." She moved off the seat to face him. She tried to meet his eyes, but they averted. "What's the matter? Don't I look good? This is my best swimmy."

"No--" He caught himself, "I mean...I just thought you got annoyed at me staring at you..."

She blew some bubbles in the water like a crab. "Nwwb bww," she turned her head and spat some, "no way. I don't care if you stare. Unless you start giving me creepy-eyes."

"Oh..." he finally locked eyes, "I just...do it a lot. I don't mean to. I thought you got annoyed this morning...are you mad I came over so suddenly?"

She moved back beside him, resting her hand on his, "What crazy-bug bit you today? I love hanging out with you," she traced his knuckle with a finger, "It's just...uhm..." She receded a little, hugging her knees. "...You'll...think I'm so weird..." She said, almost like it was to herself.

"I already think you're weird," he chimed charismatically.

"Oh hurr!" She whipped her hand across the water, splashing him proper. But just as well she was caught with a slap of water almost right after. "Eep!"

"Careful," he caught her from slipping off the seat.

She hmph'd and turned away.

He bit his lip. "What do you mean I'll think you're weird?"

"I...I had a dream..."

"So?"

"Well," she turned back, "you were in it..."

He rolled his eyes, "So?" he repeated, "I've had dreams with you in them."

She blinked, a little eased and also surprised, "You have?"

"Yeah...I can't remember one, but one I do remember: you were making Insta-Mac in the microwave, and you went to open it up and then it exploded, and there was an avalanche of cheese." His arms came up and over, pantomiming a wave, and splashed into the water.

"Oh..." She giggled, "But those are just weird dreams I happened to be in. This one...mine...it was...about you."

"Well, what happened in it?"

She grumbled nervously, "Knew you were gonna ask..." She inhaled deeply, preparing for a run-on description: "It was in the gym at school. The other kids were playing dodge ball, but my arm hurt so I was sitting it out, and then suddenly you were by me--oh and it was really foggy--and then Lyza was like 'rawr I wanna hit Ritzer cuz I need to hit someone!', and then she did--" Another inhale, "And then everything paused like some movie, and then Ritzer and his gang started pummeling poor Lyza, and then you like...went all hero or something and jumped in the way to let Lyza escape."

She had to pause, too much in one breath.

"Is that it?"

"No. After Lyza got away, then you and Ritzer started talking trash against each other and you were like 'well let's play and you'll be sorry anyway' or something, and..." She squealed as something bumped into her.

A little otter-kid that must have been five or so looked up after having just bumped into something soft. The white tigress' eyes blazed down on him. "Uhm...oops..." He muttered.

"Wear some goggles!" She shouted, pushing his head away from her with her feet.

"Hey, I said I was sorry!" The otter-kid grumbled when he surfaced.

She huffed. "I swear, it seems like every time I go swimming some kid has to bump into my tummy. Like I've got some kind of homing beacon on it or something." She watched as the otter-kid swam away, and glimpsed a wry smile on his face as he turned to glance back at her. "Anyway, what was I saying?"

"Something about me taunting Ritzer and then challenging him to dodge ball."

"Oh yeah! But...well...uhm, is it okay--that I dreamed about you?"

He shrugged. "I can't stop you."

She blushed. "O-okay..." That was easy... "Oh, I almost forgot! What was weird was, you and he were talking about how you made some kind of deal that you wouldn't play dodge ball if he picked on you and only you."

Ket's eyes pulsed. "That's...weird. How did you know...?" He trailed, swiping at a leaf that had somehow found its way into their little den.

"How did I know what? ...You mean that part was real?"

"Well...not exactly..." He dipped his hands in the water and pulled a curtain over his face.

"Don't stop there, now you have to tell me!" She poked him again.

He bit his lip. "I guess it wouldn't hurt..." He slid off the plaster seat and started to float on his back, whipping his tail around in a little circle underneath to keep him afloat. "Last year Ritzer was...worse than he is now," Ket began, "There was this one kid, a mole named...Dill? Anyway, his eyesight was really bad. He wasn't blind-blind, but he had to use this thing that everyone called a monocle--but it was called something else--and of course it ticked him off when people called it a monocle so that's all anyone remembered."

"Kinda like me and Judo." Emeral commented sourly.

"Exactly. Anyway, one day Dill-or-whatever was walking around outside and for some reason Ritzer was nearby. The mole-kid stepped on his toe--or something like that--and because of it Ritzer punched him in the nose and broke it."

Emeral gasped. "Holy cow! Shouldn't he have been expelled?"

"No one could prove Ritzer punched him. And the kid was so scared and embarrassed he would only say he tripped and fell and that's how it happened." He paused to glance over and see her expression.

She stared back, mouth ajar. "Jeez. Please tell me that's the worst he did..."

"I'd be lying if I did." He replied flatly, "But...near the end of the year, I found something out about Ritzer he doesn't want anyone to know. You know the story of Achilles?"

"Yeah! Mom taught me that one, cuz the Achilles Heel is called the Calcaneus." She lifted her foot up and rubbed the spot.

"...Uh...right," Ket laughed, "Well, Ritzer has an Achilles Heel, and right now I'm the only one who knows about it. So I used it as a bargaining tool: I keep it a secret, and I'm the only one he can bully, and if he hurts me or anyone else badly I can rightly spill it." He glanced over at her, speaking sternly; "And no, I'm not going to tell you."

She put her hands up, "Don't," she insisted with agreement, "I don't wanna know. Besides, if you tell me, and for whatever reason it gets out, Ritzer will know who it came from and he could hurt you really bad--I mean...not that you can't defend yourself. I'm sure you're strong enough to it's just..." She swallowed. "So...um...In my dream you were also really good at dodge ball," her eyes flashed, "Are you secretly good?"

He chuckled. "No. I can't catch worth a dang."

"Bomb alert!"

Emeral flinched and heard a hollow clap. In a blink Ket's paws were snared around an orange-and-yellow volleyball. After a few heartbeats, Emeral's lips pursed and she eyed him suspiciously.

Ket sighed. "Okay...maybe I can catch..."

"Hey!" The otter-kid shouted. "Can we hab arr ball back?"

"I dunno," Ket replied, without looking over. He tossed the ball up and caught it again. "Can we play with you guys?" He finally regarded the otter-family and their friends.

They looked at each other, and finally the kid spoke again. "I guess you can--but you guys gotta be on diff'nt teams!"

Ket relayed his eyes back to Emeral, who shrugged after the shock wore off. "All right," Ket replied, tossing the ball over and righting his body to wade the shallow pool.

"The white one's on my team!" The otter-kid exclaimed.

Emeral growl-groaned in response.