Beer, Wine, and Spirits. Chapter 1: James
By Ralley Foxtrot, All Rights Reserved
© 2010 Ralley Foxtrot
Beer, Wine, and Spirits
Chapter 1: James
The soft burn of tequila made James feel alive again. His cares and worries had been washed away in the in the fog of inebriation. At times like this, he could relax and just let things be. It was a feeling he could not achieve, while sober, for many years.
The room swayed for a moment, his back and tail were swinging slightly. He was losing his balance but managed to steady himself just before he fell off the barstool. His paws grabbed at the edge of the bar before him as he righted himself. Eyes focused on the bottles straight across the bar.
It was the same old routine every Friday night. James would arrive at the bar, via the bus, and sat himself down on the same barstool. It was usually the same bartender was there nearly every time too. The staff had wanted to kick his over-drunken ass out the first few nights he came by. The bartender, a psychology student by day and wetter of whistles by night, had sympathized with the grey wolf and told the rest of the staff to leave him alone. He tipped more then what was standard anyway.
The other patrons at the bar had named him 'the lone wolf.' Sure, there had been parties or celebrations, at the bar, some nights but they only lasted so long and usually evaporated just before last call. James was usually there until closing. At closing time, the bartender would call him a cab to take him home to his comfortable bed. The staff let him stick around watching TV or just to chat, while they cleaned, as he waited for his cab. A few times he had even offered to help clean, but they had to politely refuse, saying that the insurance would never allow it.
The feeling of aloneness was weighing heavily on James tonight. Drinks were supposed to be drowning all his problems until his tail was wagging uncontrollably and he was wearing a silly-ass smile on his muzzle. The bar tab often made him kick himself the morning after but right now, he couldn't bring himself to care. He started to feel depression's bitter sting creeping upon him. The wolf's eyes darted around the bar, hoping to find another lost soul to vent his sorrows with.
The hot fennec chick was around again tonight. James had seen her around the bar several times before, she was practically a regular. He never bothered to talk to her because he believed that he was far out of her league. He didn't like himself much right now and he did not want to risk getting hurt or getting an even worse reputation at the bar than he already had.
She must have had a chip on her shoulder the size of an elephant. She often snapped at the staff if her drink wasn't just right. Her friends seemed to shy away from her at times as well, no doubt from the few times he'd seen her curse them out loudly and making a huge scene that couldn't really be ignored.
Her attire always had a Mega-Mart bought slutty flare to it. Clothes that looked cheap and easy but didn't look like they cost allot. James caught himself staring on more than one occasion.
To his surprise though, tonight she was wearing a formal outfit. She wore a buttoned up black suit jacket and a black skirt that flowed down just past her knees. Her legs and tail were covered in dark silk stockings; it gave a nice but muted color affect that showed off her white and cream colored fur. Her feet were adorned slender pumps that had a low lift to them. He was starting to wonder if someone had died, certain that could be the only reason she'd ever be caught in clothes like that.
Further towards the entrance of the bar, the white collar guys were drinking and chatting amongst themselves. James squinted his eyes a bit to see past the fog of inebriation and sniffed until he saw, and smelled, that Peter Barnes was among them. The wolf did not want to be noticed by his former coworker, so he made himself shrink away. There would be lots of explaining and apologizing, probably more the latter than the former, which he owed the Golden Retriever.
The last few days at that office had been the worse in his life.
A glimmer caught the corner of the wolf's eye. A grey fox was sitting in a booth and looking rather depressed. He was he stroking a paw pad across the edge of the full glass before him. There was still something else strange about him, though. When sober, James could sense that someone was within two miles of him by their scent. Even when he was inebriated his sense of smell was strong, but limited to around 200 feet. This fox, however, had no scent at all. There was also a strange glow about it, as if his fur and clothes were glistening.
Well, misery loves company, James thought to himself. He waved to the bartender and pointed to where the fox was sitting. The bartender shot him a rather serious look back for a moment but then nodded slowly.
"Hey! I couldn't help but notice," said James, "we're both here alone and I'm starting to think we've both had better days--months, rather. How about I sit with you and we drown our sorrows in a few more drinks?"
The grey fox looked at the wolf with his brow was quirked and one ear was twitching to the side to give a confused but curious expression.
The glass in front of the fox had condensation building up along the sides. James wondered if the fox was going to be drinking at all tonight.
The grey fox started to laugh nervously and began to speak, "Look, I'm flattered. But, I don't find guys--"
James laughed and blushed beneath his white furred cheeks. He waved a paw to dismiss where those thoughts were going.
"It's not like that," said James, "I'm just looking for a drinking buddy tonight. It's quite boring being here alone."
The grey fox smiled and motioned with his paw that the wolf should take a seat across from him. "Have a seat then, friend. We'll vent our woes and drown them heavily in the nectar of the gods."
James politely offered a paw, smiled, and said "I'm James Ellington."
The fox took James paw and squeezed. It felt oddly cold to the touch which startled the wolf. He thought his extremities were probably numb from the alcohol.
The fox replied in friendly tones, "Nice to meet you James, I'm Mark Reynor."
They talked into the night.
Mark was a father and husband. He worked during the day while his wife took the night shift so they hardly saw each other anymore.
Their son did not come into the world easily. The umbilical cord was strangling him as he was being born and his leg was crooked from complications of the birth. To make matters worse, the baby was porn premature. Modern healthcare has managed to take care of most of the life-threatening problems but the medical bills stacked up quickly. Their son was a normal and healthy kit now but, his parents were facing a mountain of debt.
Mark often took strength in the solidity of his marriage and family before but with his bills stacking up, both he and his wife working, and never having much time for either of them he wasn't certain he'd be able to truly know his wife and child again. He loved them both dearly and would never leave them but, with all the trouble at home, he wondered if things would be better if he wasn't in the picture anymore.
James had joined the ranks of the not-so-gainfully unemployed shortly after the President and CEO of his company died of old age. He never liked the old fart be he did respect the man. The old man was one of those refugees who came into the country with nothing but the clothes on his back and somehow managed to make a multi-million dollar company out of a good work ethic and an idea.
With the boss dead, James wasn't certain of his future at the company. He was given additional responsibilities and longer hours which only seemed to bring him more stress. That's when the wolf started to see things.
James would hear his old boss screaming at the top of his Siamese-cat lungs. He saw the old fart walking the halls of the office. The wolf didn't want to look crazy so he kept his visions to himself. Before he knew it though, he ended up having a nervous breakdown and cursed out an important client. The office let him go and suggested strongly that he see a therapist.
"What was your old boss screaming?" Mark asked. His ears were flicking in a curious motion as if something across the room had made a noise.
"When the old man died," James said, "his will stipulated that the company either be sold in one piece or that it be given to its employees. His family stepped in and hired some high-priced lawyer to claim that the old man was not himself when the will was written and challenged it."
James lifted his glass to his lips and finished was remained of his beer, wiping the foam from his lips. Even as he was telling his story his paw had started to shake nervously from the events he recalled. The shrill sound of the old farts voice has haunted him. It echoed in his mind when anything reminded him of his former workplace.
"The old man was upset," James continued, "I guess he never liked his family. He divorced his wife after having two children with her. His oldest took over the business but he's some young and fresh out of school wet-behind-the-ears beginner. He lacks the experience and still had a lot to learn. He's a cocky bastard too but that's another story.
"I kept hearing his annoying voice crying out, `Do not bring my company to ruin, Saneet! There are good people here and I know that bitch of a woman will make you sell it and rob all these good people of their jobs.' Well, I guess he was right about one of us anyway."
Mark looked back at James with a quirked brow. The wolf's story has seemed authentic but he couldn't help but wonder if it was a work of fiction or if there was something important that James was holding back. He just shook his head and laughed.
"Man," said Mark, "you must have one hell of an imagination of you, wolf. Though, it's probably running a little too wild if it got you fired."
James couldn't really take any offense to what Mark said. He has seen enough shrinks that couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. There didn't seem to be any malice or venom in his voice either.
"Probably," said James, "I wish I could just find a way to make it stop."
The wolf started to shake his head as some past memories seemed to bubble up in his mind but he quickly buried them.
It was nearly time for last-call. The white-collar party a few booths over seemed to be getting somber and muted. The bartender was busy calculating tabs and getting the last of the alcohol for tonight out for a few customers.
"I should call it a night," said Mark as he reached for his coat. "I want to catch my wife before bed. It was nice to meet you, James. I hope things get better for you; otherwise I suspect I'll be drinking with you here again."
James chuckled and nodded in response. He shook Mark's paw once more, it was still cold to the touch but the fox did have a firm grip.
"Yeow, big guy! With a grip like that you outta be able to land a job easily."
James chuckled and waved to Mark. "Take it easy, fox!"
James finished off his drink and moved back to his barstool. He was watching a humorous political commentary on the bar TV when he saw the bartender come out from a room, behind the bar, holding a black picture frame. The bartender moved to where the white-collars' and the fennec chick were celebrating.
"I'm sorry it took so long to find this, Ms. Zenabu," the bartender said. "The day manager must have taken this picture down for a collage project he was going to hang up as a decoration."
The fennec chick shook for a moment and looked like she was about to explode but quelled after a few seconds. She nodded and brought a tissue to her eyes to dry them.
The bartender slowly moved away and set the picture down at the booth where James and Mark were just sitting. He fished around in his apron and retrieved a candle and a card and placed them beside the picture. His eyes began to look a bit teary as he lit the candle and walked back behind the bar.
James turned around on his barstool to look closer. It was a framed picture with Mark in the focus of it. In the picture, he was playing cards with someone who was out of focus. The fox was obviously cheating badly; an Ace of Spades was tucked behind his ear just out of view of who he was playing with.
The card beside the picture was written in a fancy cursive lettering you only see when someone graduates, gets married, or dies. It read, "In memory of a true friend, Mark Reynor."
Oh, shit! James thought.
The white-collar party and the fennec chick all moved around the booth. James felt as if he had been caught and turned his gaze back to the TV, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on it.
The wolf was panicking; he thought his imagination was running wild again. He couldn't be sure what was real anymore.
Last call was called out and he ordered one last drink, a strong one. He tipped the glass back and tried to drink it quickly, finding himself wishing he could fall into the bottom of the glass.
The white-collars' had started to disperse, though a few stayed and sat at the booth, keeping the spot with the full glass open. They laughed and cried. Each of them looked as if they had lost something important.
The fennec chick sat on the stool beside James and set her now empty martini glass down on the bar. She looked straight at him with sad and serious eyes that spoke of a loss that could never be restored.
"When I first saw you over there," she spoke slowly, as if there was something in her throat, "I thought you were going to drink the amber ale we had put there in Mark's memory. I was about ready to get up and slap the hell out of you. My friends stopped me and it looks like they were right. The beer is untouched. So, how well did you know him?"
James was even more confused now and felt the urge to get out of there, quickly. His tail was trying to tuck itself between his legs. He thought his imagination must be running wild again. The wolf shrugged it off and decided to roll with the punches and see how this worked out. He forced his tail out but could only succeed in keeping it still.
"Mark? Not too long," said James, "we only really talked once. He seemed like a nice guy."
James really wanted another drink all of the sudden.
"Fucken' drunk drivers!" The fennec chick barked and spat with rage as she spoke. Her fist hit the bar. "He had a wife and kid, you know. I can hardly believe he's gone. We talked the night it had happened. He's usually in here sad and distraught but that night--"
Her eyes were starting to well up with tears as her lips curled into a frown. James offered her a bar napkin but she waved him off and took a tissue out from her purse. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes and swallowed, taking a deep breath as she continued.
"That night was the happiest I had seen him in here in a very long time. That picture was taken the night it happened. He even bought my friends and I a round of drinks, he said he was celebrating."
James swallowed and said nothing. He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he was convinced he was out of his mind and going crazy. To make things worse, this wasn't the first time.
She reached into her purse and produced a business card. She quickly scribbled on the back of it and handed it to James before getting up off her barstool.
"We are having a wake tomorrow at his home." The fennec chick said as she squeezed at James' shoulder. "I know only met him once but, the family wants anyone who knew him to come by and talk about him."
Her eyes started to well up again and trotted off over to her friends as she embraced one of them and started to cry into their shoulder. Her tail was trying to tuck itself between her legs but failing to get past her skirt.
James could feel his body shaking out of anxiety and fear. This time his tail had managed to tuck itself between his legs as well. He lifted the glass to his lips and finished what remained of his drink quickly. The bartender came by and patted him on the shoulder.
"Could you call me a cab a bit early tonight?" asked James.
James sat low in his seat in the back of the cab and watched the reflections of the street lights on the windows. The stars didn't seem to be out tonight and the recent rain had given the surface of the roads and sidewalks a reflective sheen.
The cabby, a black-backed jackal, wasn't much for conversation tonight. He was dancing in his seat and lightly tapping at the steering wheel in time with the beat of the Jazz music playing on the radio.
It's happening, again! James thought. I thought I was over this bullshit. Why does it have to be me and only me?! How do I make this crap stop?!
The wolf shook his head and tried to put it all out of his mind for a moment. He let himself wander as he tried to concentrate on the music. The tempo and blare of the saxophone was running light chills down his spine that made his tail brush against the seat. His eyes closed completely as he pictured himself in a dark lounge somewhere listening to the band live.
The cabbie came to a stop at a red light as they reached the corner of Second Avenue and Fenris Street. James opened his eyes for a moment, looking around as they stopped.
A glimmer out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. There, standing directly beside the cab, on the sidewalk, was Mark. The fox seemed to have a look of shock and panic on his face. His muzzle was wide open as if he was screaming but James hard nothing. The fox's paws were running through his own hair and he seemed to be twitching as if stuck in some crazy loop.
James gasped and let out a panicked shriek in fear as he jumped in his seat. He started out in horror as the fox looked right at him. Mark seemed to be begging for something, his jaw and lips where moving but it was as if he wasn't making a sound.
Mark's paws reached for James.
The cabby flinched from the shriek and slammed the accelerator. The cab lurched just over the crosswalk before the cabby regained control and brought it to a stop just barely past the forward crosswalk line. The jackal was panting, still in fight or flight mode, as he turned back to his fare and cried out, "What? What is it?!"
James turned his head to the cabby for a moment. He could feel himself panting. It felt as if there was a cold layer of sweat under his fur. He turned back to where Mark was but found nobody there.
James shook his head and squeezed gently at the bridge of his muzzle between his finger and thumb.
"I'm so sorry," said James, "I must have drifted off to sleep and had a bad dream. I had night terrors allot when I was younger."
Smooth move there chief, James thought, it's the same old story as always. I can't ever just come out and say I see things, otherwise they'll all think I'm crazy.
The cabby sighed and looked frustrated for a moment but chuckled and shook his head.
"Well, at least with that scare I don't need my next coffee break." The cabbie said. "Let's get you back home so you can relax."
James grumbled to himself as he entered his apartment. He had given the cabby a large tip since he felt guilty about scaring the shit out of him. Money wasn't a major concern for him but it was something he always worried about in the back of his mind but he chose not to think about it too much. Even if his unemployment insurance ran out he had a tidy savings he could depend on for a year or two.
He needed work through. Money would run out eventually and he needed something outside of his home to do. Just sitting around watching movies was making him stir crazy.
The wolf shook his head and gave up for the night. He pushed his thoughts and memories of the evening aside and climbed into bed. Welcoming the nothingness as he quickly succumbed to sleep.
Rain drops were pouring down relentlessly in the afternoon. Drenched pedestrians were running by, trying out from under it quickly, as the torrent of rain washed the filth and grime of the city away. James was sitting at a covered bus stop, watching the show and waiting for a bus. His gaze moved to his watch though he didn't really read what the time was. He looked across the street again and suddenly it was dark and late at night.
I've been waiting for this bus for an awful long time, James thought, Maybe it broke down or they aren't running today. I'd rather not have to walk the rest of the way.
He saw Mark across the street, waiting for the light to change. The fox was carrying a bundle of roses and seemed quite excited; there was a spring in his step. As the light changed, Mark started to cross the street. James got to his feet and waved to him.
Mark was either ignoring or didn't seem to notice him.
A car suddenly came barreling down the road and swerving wildly. James started to yell and wave to the fox to warn him but it was like he was moving in slow motion. He watched in horror as the car was headed straight for Mark.
The fox erupted into a shower of rose petals as the car impacted him. Confused, the car stopped for a moment across the street but then drove off with its tires squealing as the driver must had just realized what had happened.
James stood there, stupefied. No one else seemed to be around to corroborate what had just happened. He sighed and plopped himself back down on the bench.
"Why so tense, man?" A familiar voice asked.
James flinched; he could feel his fur standing on end in surprise. He was certain that he was alone at the bus stop until now. The wolf turned his head and found that Mark was sitting next to him. He did a double take and looked back to where he was certain he saw the fox just got hit and to where he was now sitting.
"Wh-what the fuck?!" James cried out.
Mark raised a brow curiously as if he was surprised by the wolf's reaction. "Are you alright?"
"I thought I just saw you get hit by a car!"
The fox laughed. "Your imagination must be running wild again, man."
James shook his head for a minute and cupped his face and muzzle in his paws, rubbing at his eyes. "I think I need to see the shrink again. I must be seeing things."
As the wolf moved his paws away from his face the fox was gone. His head darted around to see where mark had gone off to. The only sign that anyone had even been there was a rose that sat on the bench beside him.
James leaned over and picked up the rose. One of the thorns pricked at his paw pad. The wolf flinched from the pain but he found he couldn't take his eyes away from the rose. As he watched closely, a stream of his blood seemed to flow up the stem of the rose. Liquid crimson pooled and formed into a ring which glowed and turned silver before his eyes. A diamond was mounted on the side of the ring.
Bells rang out somewhere in the distance. James looked around and found that he wasn't sitting at the bus stop anymore. He was in a lush garden that was attached to a house. Nearby, rose petals were drifting in the wind. As James watched closely, the petals seemed to form a shape that looked like something humanoid was walking towards the rosebush along the side of the house. The form kneeled down to the bush and reached out to touch it, but as it did the petals flowed into the rosebush itself until there was nothing left to drift in the wind.
James looked back at his paw, the rose he had held was suddenly gone and his pad didn't seem to show a trace of being pricked at all. He could feel himself starting to tense up, he didn't know where he was and looked at his surroundings for anything familiar.
"It's alright," A calming voice called out, "there is nothing to fear." A sense of calm came over James. He closed his eyes as if felt like a pair of warm paws were rubbing at his shoulders and nestling him in close. His eyes closed as he let the stress melt away.
"I know we just met, James. But, there is something important I need you to do for me."
James opened his eyes. His surroundings had changed again. He was back at the bar, in the booth, sitting across from Mark. He felt strange, his could only focus on what was in front of him and everything else was blurred out. The only sound he could hear was Mark's voice and something like wind-chimes in the distance. There were no glasses on the table and the lighting seemed more than usual. Mark still seemed to have a glow about him.
"What's going on, Mark?" James asked.
"If I told you," said Mark, "you would probably just find a way to end it. I can't have that just yet. I bet you could figure it out though."
"I could?" James asked but felt utterly perplexed.
Marked smiled and nodded. He held his palm up just before the wolf's gaze as if trying to show him something on his pads.
"How long have you been seeing things, James?"
Mark's paw began to fill with images, memories from James' past.
***
James had been seeing things that were not there as far back as his memory began. Eventually, he started to have night terrors. His parents took him to various doctors, therapists, and psychiatrists who couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. The dreams and visions weren't always bad but there were times that they scared the young wolf to the point of wetting himself.
The visions interrupted his life throughout school. They made him scream and lash out at other people in defense at times, other times they found him talking to people who weren't there. He spoke of people doing strange and disturbing things.
No medications ever seemed to work, in some ways they actually made things worse. He had taken a powerful drug once at the recommendation of a renowned psychiatrist. For about an hour he couldn't stop screaming and weeping. Two hours later he felt as if something was pulling at him. Fifteen minutes afterwards he was drug violently along the floor by some unknown presence.
Distraught and hopeless, his parents sought out unconventional help. They had heard of a miracle worker psychiatrist who had recently retired. He was often referred to as a Zen Master. They told him their story and he offered an alternative treatment through medication, mental conditioning, and a possibly illegal, in most countries, medicinal herb.
After a few weeks, the visions seemed to disappear and James was able to live a normal life. He never told anyone though, that he could still see visions but they were less frequent and extremely faint. Often, they were just lights in the darkness.
After a few years it seemed that the visions disappeared altogether. He eventually conditioned himself into thinking that if anything he was out of the ordinary, it was his imagination running wild.
***
Mark lowered his paw.
"Sh-shit, I remember it all now." James swallowed; tears were streaming down his cheeks. He held his head in his paws. "I couldn't make sense of what was happening to me back then. I don't think I can now."
"You're special, James," Mark said with a smile. "You have been given a unique gift."
"Gift?!" James spat out in rage. "What the fuck is it man? Am I a schitzo or have I just been cursed?"
Marked laughed and waved his paw. "I'm sure you will be able to figure it out on your own one day. Right now, I need your help. I need you to show them--"
The blaring sound of a car alarm made James spring up in his bed. He felt very tense and was panting heavily. The clock on his wall was showing it was about 10 AM. He shook his head and snorted.
"Oh Lord," said James, "no more all night benders again. My head is fucking with me."
James was in his shower, getting a good lather in his paws as he spread it out along his body, his digits combing through his fur to get a deep clean. The dream kept his mind preoccupied. He had always been able to push thoughts out of his mind completely and go into a deep meditative state as he had been taught to in the past. This time, though, he was genuinely bothered by the events of last night and the dream. He felt as if there was something missing he had to do before he could let it go.
James brushed his paw across the steamed up mirror to look at himself. He found his familiar face looking back at him and the face of Mark looking at him from over his shoulder.
"I need you to show them..." The vision said without moving its lips.
James' heart was racing as he turned quickly but found there was no one behind him. His own reflection stared back at him as he turned back to the mirror. He snorted in frustration and rubbed at his eyes.
Dressed in his bathrobe, James went back into the den. He found his coat from last night thrown across a chair. Nearby, the fennec chick's business card looked up at him from the floor.
It must have fallen out of my coat pocket when I set it down, James thought, or maybe...
James shook his head and cursed his imagination. He picked up the card from the floor and looked at it. On the back were the address and a small drawn map to the Reynor's. The front read "Jennifer Zenabu, Attorney at Law."
James wouldn't normally go to a wake for someone he just met. He knew he would feel odd and uncomfortable around strangers mourning. There was something drawing him to the Reynor's though, he could feel it. Before he knew it, the phone was in his paw and he had dialed the fennec chick's number on the card.
"Hello?"
"Hi!" James replied as he scratched at his head nervously. "This may be a little weird but, did we meet last night? I have a business card here with an address to the Reynor family wake."
"Oh, right!" The feminine voice on the other side replied. "I hope you didn't have one too many last night and forgot all about it, I think I almost did. I never did introduce myself last night, did I? I'm Jennifer, you can call me Jen. I'm actually just about to head out the wake now. Do you need a ride? I could use some company today and we can talk more about Mark on the way."
A nervous smile crossed James muzzle. He felt awkward but whatever was driving him to go wasn't about to stop now. He might be able to woo the hot fennec chick while he was at it. "I'd appreciate it."
James met Jennifer outside his apartment building about a half hour later. She was driving a late model luxury car, the kind that James could only dream about ever owning.
Jennifer was dressed casual, wearing just a crew-cut white t-shirt and jeans. James wasn't certain how to dress for a wake so he put on his collared shirt, tie, and slacks.
They started down the street; Jennifer reached for the radio and turned down the volume to talk.
"So, you only met him once at the bar?" She asked.
James swallowed nervously and replied, "Yep, he was looking about as miserable as I was feeling at the time. I figured misery loves company so, I joined him."
"He was always at least a little depressed," Jennifer said as she sighed. "His job barely gave him any time to see his wife and kid but they really needed the money. There were times when he was working so hard that he didn't even come home at night, forgot to call, and worried his family. It's put a bit of a strain on his marriage and his kid thinks his father was avoiding them. He never even got to be there at any of his son's baseball games.
"His wife, Cassandra, is a terrible mess right now. They had an awful fight a few days before he was killed, they weren't really able to talk about it or get anything resolved."
"Well, at least he was trying to provide for them as best he could," said James. "Do you know if he liked his job at least?"
Jennifer threw her head back in a mocking laugh. "Hell no, why do you think he was in the bar nearly every night? That office stressed him out to no end. If that drunk hadn't killed him, his job might have. The trouble at home didn't really help things either."
Mark could see that Jennifer was starting to tear up. He reached a paw to her shoulder and lightly squeezed. She set her paw atop his and squeezed it back as she smiled.
They arrived at the house just before noon. There were several cars parked along the street, most likely other wake attendees. The house seemed vaguely familiar but James couldn't place where he had seen it before.
The house was noisy with chatter. Mark must have had quite a collection of friends. It was so packed that there only seemed to be standing room. People were talking, laughing, and crying. There was someone wailing loudly over the noise of everyone else. Jennifer shot off like a bullet past the crowd and rushed to its source, dragging James with her. They found a grey vixen, wailing into a tissue and sitting next to relatives who were trying to comfort her as best they could.
"Oh Jen!" she cried out, reaching for the Jennifer. "I miss him so much. I can't believe the last words I said to him were so hateful. He deserved it though."
"It will be okay, Cass," Jennifer kneeled down and cupped at Cassandra's paw. "I'm sure he's thinking only the best of you from heaven. He loved you and Jack so much."
"I don't know what to think," Cassandra seemed to be wailing out more. "The day before he died I told him that I had lost our wedding ring. He just shrugged it off and acted like he didn't care. I got so mad at him; I thought he didn't care about our marriage anymore. I couldn't take it Jen, I lost my head."
"Don't even think that, Cass," Jennifer squeezed at her paw. "He loved you two so much."
"But, he was always at the bar rather than coming home to see us." Cassandra's eyes seemed to tear up more as she was shaking with sorrow.
"He didn't want to bring the stress of his work home," said Jennifer. "He only complained about the office. You two were the light in his life. There was only a slight mention of some trouble at home."
James had started to inch away; he was feeling nervous and anxious in a sea of strangers.
"Hey! Don't I know you from the bar?" A large paw clasped the wolf on the shoulder.
He was a badger about James size but he had a heftier build. His arms and legs looked like tree trunks. His clothes barely seemed to contain him as muscles visibly rippled under his clothing as he moved.
"Why don't you and I get some air while we let the ladies talk this out?" The badger winked and led James outside through the back of the house.
The yard seemed to take up more of the property then the house did. There was a wooden deck-patio that was attached to the back of the house. Stairs led down into a lush green garden that seemed to stretch another 30 yards at least. A pathway led to a clearing the middle.
James stared off into the distance from the edge of the deck as the badger went to grab a few beers from a cooler. The wolf felt something drawing him in with force. He could feel a sense of excitement coming over him; it was starting to scare him.
As he reached the clearing he found a park bench in the middle and sat down. James was startled as he finally recognized where he was. His eyes and ears darted left and right. It was the garden from his dream, down to the last detail. He cupped at his head as he felt like he was losing his mind, there had to be an explanation for all this.
The badger caught up to James and handed him a beer with one massive paw. "Quite something, isn't it? Mark and Cassandra had started planting and tending to it since they got hitched and moved into this place."
James couldn't speak. He didn't even know what words were spoken and barely felt the cold presence of the beer in his paw.
"I'm Kenneth, by the way," said the badger, "You can call me Ken." He reached out his massive paw.
James awoke from his stupor and shook paws with the badger. "Hey Ken, I'm James. Can you... excuse me for a moment... I-I-"
"So no more, friend," Ken replied as he nodded and winked to the wolf. "I'll be on the patio if you need me."
The wolf was utterly confused and dumbfounded. The wink from the badger had said allot about his intentions but he found he couldn't concentrate hard enough right now to process it.
James was kicking himself. He didn't know what was drawing him out here but he felt completely alien to these people. The only exception was the one person he had just made the acquaintance of last night, and by all accounts that person was dead. He looked around the garden as he was thinking quickly, trying to figure out what to do. What excuse he could use to--
There was a small glimmer coming from the rosebush along the side of the house. It was as if a red flare was burning near the base of it, the same rosebush from his dream.
He walked over and got onto his knees. His eyes scanned along the rosebush as he found the source of the flare. It was a shiny red ribbon that was reflecting light. The ribbon was wrapped around the stem of the rose. As James pulled at the rose it came out of the ground easily, it was merely stuck in the ground and not planted. Along the stem was the silver ring with a diamond he had seen in the dream the night before. At the base of the stem, tied with the same ribbon, was a small velvet box.
James smiled widely as his tail wagged behind him. He felt a moment of clarity as he got to his feet and ran into the house.
He found Cassandra still sobbing into her tissue. Jennifer had taken a seat beside her and was still holding her paw. Her eyes were welling up as well.
"Excuse me, Cassandra?" asked James.
Cassandra merely looked at James but found she couldn't answer, she nodded in reply.
"My name is James. I had met your husband at the bar only recently. He shared with me a little romantic scheme he was cooking up. He didn't give me the specifics but I managed to piece enough of it together."
James handed the rose to Cassandra.
"Oh my god!" Cassandra's reached for the Rose and nearly fell out of her chair. "My wedding ring! Where did you find it?!"
Cassandra yelped a bit as she pricked her finger on a thorn. She was grasping the rose so tight. The velvet box had come lose from the flower and ribbon and fell into her lap. She picked up the box curiously and opened it. A gasp escaped her lips as she brought her paw to her lips and appeared shocked. There was another silver ring with a larger diamond mounted to it. She looked along the inside of the ring at an inscription; her eyes began to tear up.
Jennifer noticed a folded piece of paper along the inner top of the box. She unfolded it curiously and began to read.
"By one ring," Jennifer started but found her own voice was starting to weaken and crack as her eyes began to well up as well. "We declared our love for another. We pledged ourselves eternally and forever to each other. We walked the path to happiness together but found that the road was rough and sharp. We cut our feet and stumbled. We fought and bickered with each other as we blamed each other for the disasters which had befallen us. We harbored thoughts that, we could not be 'We' anymore.
"Before we met, the road was dark and perilous. I was alone and stumbling when I found you, another traveler trying to navigate this road and struggling to do it alone. We were companions and along the way 'We' eventually became 'Us' as we were blessed with a young kit who's start on this crazy road was full of potholes and bridges that went out.
"By two rings, I now renew my vows and my love for you. I pledge to always have time for you and have time for our son. I pledge to show you that you are my strength and we can navigate this crazy road of life. I love you, Cassandra and I love our son. Can we be 'Us' again?"
Cassandra reached into the little box once more and held out another silver ring with a silver chain hanging from it. It was not adorned with any precious gems but it had a pendant with a strange shield-like crest attached to it.
"The Reynor family seal..." Cassandra whispered, looking utterly surprised. "It must be for Jack."
Cassandra wailed once more and threw her arms around both Jennifer and James.
"Thank you! Thank you!" Cassandra was wailing again but she was smiling. "I was starting to wonder how he felt about us."
"Mommy! You're bleeding!" A young voice said.
The boy was the spitting image of his father. He looked about 8 to 10 years old. He quickly ran to his mother and wrapped his arms around her.
Cassandra gave jack the necklace with ring and there was more crying but it seemed to be of a happier nature. They knew now that Mark was a good man and only wanted the best for his wife and child. He was only distant because he did not want to take the stress of his job out on them. Even though, in the end, he had taken it out on them but he wanted to make it right but was killed before he could.
Jennifer led James around and introduced him to various people at the wake, before long he was learning more about Mark and his family then he really ever wanted to know. James was starved for communication with others anyway and found that he was smiling and enjoying himself.
The day was starting to wind down into the afternoon. A few people had started to leave the wake, saying their goodbyes before they left. The kit, Jack, was looking sad but getting antsy and began to cause a bit of ruckus around the house. Jennifer asked James if he could play catch with the kit. She handed Mark's baseball glove and showed the two outside.
James put on the glove; it was a little tight as his paws were larger than the average vulpine's. He did his best to make sure the glove didn't rip in his paw. There were small groves where his claws fit right into the glove.
The wolf felt great, playing with the kit under the afternoon sun. His depression had evaporated and for once in his life, the curse had turned out to be a gift he could share to bring some joy into people's lives where there had been sorrow. It made him feel warm inside where it had only been cold and stormy before.
"Thank you, James." The world seemed to slow down as Mark's voice rang out.
James turned his head to see Mark smiling. The fox started to glow bright white like phosphorus. The light didn't burn or sting or burn at James' eyes but he found that he couldn't look away. The light kept getting brighter until Mark and the light were faded and gone completely.
The wolf was happy. He helped bring closure to a father and his family. James felt like he was on top of the world and nothing could stop him. Time seemed to resume and James didn't notice that Jack had tossed the ball back to him.
It hit him straight in the groin.
Revised 5/2/2010 22:26 MST