A Tail for Two - Chapter 6

Story by invudontseeme on SoFurry

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Maybe you're not who I thought you were.

The silence began to grow unbearable. Sure there was plenty of noise in this airport, but none of it was exerted from me or Cyd. The waiting line in which we stood seemed to last forever. I'm not sure if it was all in my head or if we were really standing in line for this long. I couldn't stop thinking about the money. Cyd promised that he'd tell me exactly where it came from on the flight, as long as I could just keep it off my mind until then, but I couldn't. The Cyd I know is a nice, caring, and honest guy. Was I wrong about him? Was all this just a lie to earn my trust?

No, that couldn't be it. If he was using me then he wouldn't be right here, right now. He would've left me way back at the hospital; he wouldn't be trying to save my life like this. Why am I even thinking any of these things? If I really loved him, I wouldn't even consider him doing something to hurt me, but if he wasn't trying to hurt me, then where did all the money come from? Did he steal it? Is that why his dad hurt him? I just don't know what to think anymore.

The line finally moved forward enough for us to reach the front counter. The cashier standing at the desk looked extremely irritated. She didn't seem to like her job as much as some of the other perky individuals in the building. Her fur was spotted like a leopard, but her face appeared like another feline. She had "I'm a dorky school girl" glasses and a paw print on her cheek where she rested her head from exhaustion and boredom.

I watched Cyd's muzzle move as he talked to the young employee. I've lived in this city my entire life, but I've barely even left for vacation. Flying in a plane was just impossible to imagine. A steel figure was actually able to move through the air? Floating above ground just seemed insane. I know California isn't that far from my current home here in Las Vegas, but just being in the air for ten minutes seemed terrifying. "Yea, we're going to San Francisco," Cyd confirmed to the cashier, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Okay then, the next flight is approximately three hours," The leopard-like cat replied. She was typing on her computer loudly while staring at her keyboard. My guess was that she was somewhat new to the technology.

"Three hours?" Sid exclaimed, "You don't have anything sooner than that?" His paw was clinched into a loose fist, resting lightly on the desk. I understood his anger clearly. We had just waited overnight at the hospital only to find out that Luke didn't survive; we were both done waiting. We wanted to act; we wanted to do.

"I'm sorry sir, that's our nearest flight. We have another that's leaving in about 5 minutes, but there's no way you can get through before then. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. That's the problem. All you people do is your job; you don't even take a second to think about the lives of others." Cyd turned his head to the side and looked me in the eyes. Although I was too lost in my mind to show any emotion, he looked at me as if he was fighting to save my life. "Look," he said, turning back, "my boyfriend Nate, this amazing guy standing right next to me, his brother just died last night. We've spent the entire night at the hospital and now we're just trying to get away from all of the pain we went through here. The same people who killed his little brother are now after him and all I'm asking for is to forget your fucking job for two seconds and just help me out. Please."

The girl just stood and stared in silence. Her eyes were wide and she seemed as if she was going to cry. Breaking away from the silence, she reached towards a phone to her right. She lifted a claw as if hinting "hold on" as she dialed a few numbers. "Hey," the cashier said as she answered, "I got two young guys here who need to be escorted to Flight-521 immediately, hold it from taking off." She looked up at Cyd and then at me. As she hung up the receiver, she cleared he throat and began to speak again. "There are two attendants coming right away to assist you to the plane. Don't worry about money or anything, I got it covered; just, good luck with your brother and all. I hope you two feel better soon." She looked me dead in the eye and smiled at me, assuring that she wanted to help.

As she claimed, the two attendants, both taller males, came towards us from the crowd. They introduced themselves by name and told us we had to hurry, because the plane wouldn't stall for long. Not wanting to miss it, we listened. Cyd grabbed the straps of his backpack as he walked trying his best not to let it go. I noticed that no one ever checked the bag. All that cash, but no one ever bothered to even look inside. Not only did we get lucky enough for that, but we were also lucky enough to actually get on the flight; it looked like things were finally starting to go our way.

We walked through the large entrance of the airplane and made our way to the nearest open seats. The plane was quite large, but not many passengers were around to fill it up. The assistants closed the door behind us, sealing it shut. I grabbed myself a seat by the window and strapped in tightly. Cyd put his backpack safely inside the storage area above us before grabbing the seat next to me. I turned my head to look out the window. The long strip of concrete reminded me of the terrifying idea of flying away from the safely supported ground. The pilot came on the radio and informed us that we were beginning to take off, causing my tension to only rise.

As the planed turned into position, my paws began to shake. The fear began to take over my mind completely, blocking out the calmness I once had. I tried my hardest to hide my fear from Cyd. I was too embarrassed to share it with him, as if flying was something only kids were scared of. I increased the grip on the arm rests and closed my eyes tightly. The plane straightened itself out and began to pick up speed. I jumped at the feeling of someone grabbing my hand. I ripped my head around and looked at Cyd, who was finally smiling brightly.

"Don't be so scared Nate, I gotcha," he whispered into my ear softly. I relaxed my body a little and started to smile at him. Before growing into a full grin, I stopped myself. I felt guilty smiling and having a good time after everything that just happened to Luke. I was supposed to be sad and upset, not happy and smiling. "You okay?" he asked, sensing my guilt.

"Yea, I'm fine, don't worry about it," I said, turning my head away from him. The images of Luke began to fill my head once again. No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to remove them for good. His lifeless body filled my brain and I could almost hear his gasping breaths as if he was still on the pavement.

"You stopped shaking," Cyd said, helping bring me back the real world. I looked down at my paws, confirming his statement. I did stop shaking. All this thinking made me forget about the flight and I didn't even realize we were already in the air. "I guess you're not so nervous after all," he said, smiling.

"Yea, I guess. I kind of forgot we were flying," I replied, still pulling myself out of my thoughts. I looked over at Cyd, who was looking down the aisle, waiting for something. I lifted myself up a little and noticed a flight attendant pushing a small trolley down the walkway. When she reached our row, Cyd flagged her down, letting her know we were in need of assistance.

"Is there anything you want?" the short cat asked with a wide, perky smile.

"Um, yea," Cyd replied, "can I get a small juice box or something? The kid's afraid of flying." He pointed towards me and snickered. The cat caught the joke and chuckled a bit back, handing Cyd the small carton of apple juice and continuing on her route. "Here you go pup!" he called out to me, handing me the carton.

"I'm not a little kid!" I joked with him, smiling widely. Once again, when I noticed I was smiling, I tried to pull it back in. I couldn't handle the guilt of smiling; it just didn't feel right anymore. Cyd noticed that I pulled in the smile and gave me a confused look; his eyes squinting and eyebrows rising.

"You did it again," he said in an accusing voice.

"Did what?" I asked, pretending to be ignorant. He shook his head at me in a disappointed fashion and I completely understood the message he was trying to send. "It doesn't feel right laughing and smiling when Luke just died. I feel like having a great time without him is so wrong," I confessed, looking deep into his eyes. He took a second to gather his thoughts and then looked at me with a slight grin.

"You know Nate, I understand you're guilty, but being upset isn't going to fix anything. This isn't your fault." I turned my head back down in shame. I knew he was right, being sad wouldn't change anything, but it still wasn't easy to let go of guilt. I couldn't just flip a switch and all was good again, it took a lot of time. "Plus, Nate," he continued, "Luke wouldn't want you being sad like this either."

My eyes opened wide and I looked up at him in shock. I had never really thought about it like that. If Luke could talk to me right now, if somehow I could communicate with him, he'd probably tell me the same thing. Being upset the way I am, holding back smiles, and trying not to laugh are probably not things that Luke would want.

"I'll make you a deal," Cyd said, sitting up taller in his seat, "if you can promise me that you'll let go a little and treat every day like a vacation, I'll tell you about the money and a little about my family." He reached his hand over and grabbed my tail, pulling it up and touching it to his chest. I moved it a little to tickle his neck, which made him chuckle. "I know it's not going to be easy, but if you just let go it'll be worth it, trust me," he said calmly.

"Okay, fine," I replied, "I promise, but you have to tell me about the money first. How did you end up with that much?"

He started to scratch my tail with his claws, preparing me for what was about to come. He looked down at his paws, showing that he was ashamed of whatever it was he did. "I got the money from my family; it was mine and my brother's college savings." He stopped scratching and began more of a massaging motion on my tail. "My dad keeps all his money in one place, making it really easy for me to take. I have five siblings, all brothers, so together they saved up a lot of money."

"But," I began, "how could you take that all from your siblings? Didn't you grow up with them and everything? How could you not feel guilty?" I questioned him as if it was me stealing from my brother. I couldn't have done it, because my brother and I used to be really close, the guilt would kill me. Cyd seemed to have a different sound to his voice. He seemed to be more ashamed of how I would take everything than the actual action itself.

"My brothers, every last one of them; they're all anti-gay. When I told one of them I was gay, one of them that I actually trusted, he told the other, who told the other, who told the other. Eventually they all knew, as did my dad who also hated gays. My mom was the only person I actually had left. They would all beat me, call me names, and yell at me, but my mom was the only one who actually cared."

I now considered myself lucky. As I grew up, I kept my sexuality more to myself. Luke knew, but he didn't treat me nearly as bad as Cyd's family treated him. Cyd grew up in a world of torture and I have no idea how he pulled through it all. Although Cyd continued to stare down at his paws, my sight never left his face.

"They got divorced because of it," he continued, "because of me. My mom was tired of the way my dad and brothers treated me, so me and her moved away, leaving them all. Everything was fine after that. We were so happy being alone and whenever I met a new guy, she was so happy when I brought him home."

I started to feel less lucky now. My mom wasn't anything like Cyd's. If I took a guy home, she'd freak out on me. She'd try to send me to some reform school and help me change. I never had that acceptance, but on the other hand, I never even told her.

"Then one day, this young puppy came my way. He was so cute, so intoxicating. For some reason, my perverted, evil mind wanted nothing else but to have sex with him. I lured him in, made him my friend, and let him trust me with everything. He fell in love with me and I lied to his face, telling him I loved him too. Then, the first chance I got, I tied that pup down and fucked the hell out of him against his will."

I pulled back in my seat, scooting slowly away from Cyd. What he just said, this story he was telling me, what was its purpose? Why would he tell me about something that vulgar, that wrong? I took a second to picture myself in that situation. I've been sexually abused before, but not by a friend; not by someone I've trusted; not by someone I loved.

"So about a week later, I get this letter in the mail. I open it and read it. It was from the same little pup, explaining about how I was the reason he'd never trust again and how for as long as he lives he'd never forgive me for what I did. I didn't really blame him. I made him trust me with his life and just stabbed him in the back; there was no way I would ever deserve forgiveness. Eventually my mom finds this letter in my room and when she asked about it, I told her exactly what I did and how I did it. She was so ashamed of me, so disappointed. To hide my true feelings, to mask the pain I was really feeling, I told her I didn't care what she thought. I told her I didn't love her and I'd continue doing whatever the hell I wanted. I didn't think twice about how it made her feel. She was so hurt, so crushed, that she went out and nearly drunk herself to death. On the way home later that night, she got in a car wreck, killing both herself and another older dog that had just got home from a business meeting. He was going to go surprise his kids with an early arrival, but instead he was killed; all because of me."

Silent tears began to flow down his eyes and he didn't take his focus off a certain point on the floor. My attention wasn't on Cyd as much though. I was paying attention to the details of his story. I was focused on how each event happened and exactly how it happened. I put the pieces together like a puzzle laid out directly in front of me. Piece one: business trip, Piece two: older dog, and Final piece: drunk driver.

"Cyd," I asked, "how long ago was this?" He looked up at me like I was crazy. Irrelevant information like that at a time like this was unnecessary, yet I asked it anyway.

"About three years ago," he said choking upon his words, "why?"

"Because," I replied, taking a pause between my words, "I think your mom killed my dad."

I think you killed my dad.