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Recolences

Ringtail and Snep are © Kereminde and Me

Written by Nines © Nov 14 2021

Edited (with a ton of improvements!) by Kereminde

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to fictional or actual persons (living or dead) or any actual events is purely coincidental.

Recolens v.

1. To renew

2. To reconsider

3. To recall or reflect upon

4. To contemplate

Reconciliation n.

1. The re-establishment of friendly relations; conciliation, rapprochement.

Roland,

We promised we would be with each other forever at our prom, no matter what. Somehow we even managed to work out sharing the same dorm together for our first year in college. And a week later, on the ill-fated day, the day after high school ended, they took you away and we haven't seen each other since. I keep telling myself things, reminders to keep me from crying; that it wasn't my fault, there was no other way, you had to go after what happened. After what you became. I get that, puppy, but it doesn't make it any easier. I find myself repeating those final 24 hours over and over in my head. To see if I could have done anything differently, but really, just to see you again like I remembered. The good times.

The morning on our last day of school, standing at your locker and cleaning it out together. So many memories from these last few years. That protein bar which expired back before the Christmas break. Those awkward photos of us at prom last month, you in that sharp ebony suit, me in my second hand navy blue that used to be my older brother's. We tried not to think too much of what came after. We'd make it through, we'd make it work out.

When we finished cleaning out our lockers, I remember I remarked that you looked a little taller, and you teased me about no longer being 'the shorty'. That I would have to change that pet name I always called you; Puppy. We figured it was a little late growth spurt- not unheard of at our ages. Those dusty blue eyes, just remembering them puts me in mind of your old broken-in jeans, it was so strange looking level with my own. It was so intoxicating to look into your gaze without dipping them lower. You were becoming different and it didn't make a lick of difference, you were still the same snow leopard I fell in love with.

After school was done we hung out all night, celebrating over dinner at my place. It was seared tuna over peppered cauliflower rice with a side of cold peanut sesame noodles. Your favorite, remember, from when we went to that upscale place downtown? By time the night ended, we were all out of words, left only with the plans we made for the future. Our future. Tomorrow would be the first morning of many more, we thought then. We planned to start first thing tomorrow, heading out to the old lake by the aging reservoir at some early sunkissed hour. Maybe we'd catch a movie in the afternoon and end the day by finishing off the last of that cider we stole from my parents. We deserved this.

As I approached your place at dawn, everything was different once again. I thought it was weird how everything seemed more active, and the neighbors were curiously looking at their window, murmuring in an unheard of activity for this hour. I felt a cold pit where my stomach should have been, knowing something was wrong just by the feel in the air. I was right.

Your house was bathed in the red and blue flashing lights of the law attempting to make order of the freshly sown chaos.

Forensics were already on their way but there was really no need with what could be seen. A humanoid shaped hole in the remains of where your second-story bedroom told half the story, and the footprints leading away into the ancient forest, each step bigger and wider than the last, said all the rest. The same forest we used to get lost in as little kids remember?

Nobody knew where your parents or little brother were. Were they gone in the ruined foundation? Whisked away, hidden securely to keep them safe? Nobody would tell me. Truth be told, I've not heard anything since then...

We all heard the stories before. The mid-western wolf who became a giant overnight after having a rage-fueled fight with his parents. The eastern red panda girl who scaled the tallest building in her town out of sheer panic after her change. The coyote who was now in remedial classes to get her high school diploma, unnerving everyone after stabilizing as an amazon with sharp predator fangs. And those are the peaceful ones.

Add one more now. Roland W. Kanter, the hundred-foot snow leopard who woke up to a nightmare right here in this sleepy northeastern town. A town which never had any drama before, now the center of the newest story about giants. And you were dating a dumb little ringtail like me.

I was plucked aside once I said I knew who you were, after I admitted... yeah. It was like those cop shows on television, only far scarier.. Big-time government officials in suits worth more than my rotting yellow car and flashing identification with no badges, only three letter credentials from departments I had never heard of before. All of their words described a thing, not a person. Like you were some feral escaped from the zoo, and needed to be contained or put down before you caused more damage. Like you were a test subject. Like you weren't... my...

I had to tell them what you were, not a monster, but my own puppy. I told them off, I yelled, and screamed, and it probably didn't help anything. Compassion isn't a thing when you're dealing with a living force majeure. That's when they began to look at me the same way as when they talked about you. Before it had been sort of a condescending comfort, that I didn't deserve to be in this position because of you. Now they looked down like I was lesser by association, lesser by our connection. I got hit with a hundred questions, different ways of asking the same things that all amounted to nothing. What were you like, what were you into, why I kept calling a snow leopard "puppy". I finally started explaining that costume you wore... I couldn't finish the story because I just broke down. Yeah. I cried. Your ringybutt crying his eyes out like I was six again and fell on the playground. Like someone could come kiss it and make it better.

No chance of that. Never a chance of that again.

One of the younger government boys asked me if I would help calm you down if there was another "incident". When I asked what they meant, another implying something had already happened, they never elaborated further. Certainly they didn't dissuade my fears when I asked if an accident happened. I think they... wanted to blame you.

These three months since then, I've dreamed why and what may have happened. Every possible thing it could have been, good and bad, what would make me change my mind... the gamechangers. Whatever you did, I want to believe it wasn't your fault. I want to know, but I get more afraid the longer I don't.

In the end they didn't need me, you did the right thing. I think it was right anyway. You calmed down, you surrendered, and they took you into custody. You were described as "cooperative" in the newspaper, which doesn't sound like you at all. You? The free-thinker, the guy going to be a philosophy major? The guy who ranted against the system keeping us in the new generation from becoming anything, but you were going to make it. You were going to be big.

Hah.

Now, I'm sure of nothing anymore. I'm not even sure you're you anymore, this... "cooperative" you. I'm not even sure what we are anymore. Can love still exist with us when I'm as big as your heart? Does it still count as holding your hand when I can only wrap around two of your fingers? I still miss you, but I'm also scared of what you are now. What might be, between us.

But... they said you were cooperative, and in exchange, you would be allowed to see me. That I would be allowed to see you. Like I said, I'm scared. It's been a scary few months of questions without answers, worries of that future we planned that you seem to have outgrown. I'm not sure what will happen next, but by the time this letter finds you? I'll see you tomorrow, and I'm willing to try. Just for you puppy.

Hang in there.

Jacob Rainier