Sylvie: Chapter Eleven

Story by foxxinabox on SoFurry

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TL;DR - Sylvie has lunch at an old friend's to inform her of her new job situation.

There's certainly more here than just brunch. This is the first time we meet Stripes - Sylvie's father-figure, if not her biological father. Like Synthia, he took on a life of his own and ended up requiring me to write his backstory to explain why he feels so protective of Sylvie. The fact of the matter is that she feels closer to him than just about anyone and, while we've had chances to see Sylvie's emotions, this is the first time we get to see her interact with someone with whom she has a history. Oh, and just because everything can't be sunshine and roses, Sylvie goes on an adventure to buy a television and we get to see speciesism in action.


The shower the next morning took a little longer than usual as she remembered the dreams she'd had. Having virtually no friends growing up had made her rely upon herself for entertainment and one way she found of doing so was becoming a lucid dreamer. Most of the times she allowed them to wander where they wanted but other times, like last night, she took a more active role. She felt tingly when she'd awakened and, even now, the sensation hadn't dissipated.

Sitting at the table, eating her generic puffed rice with a certain amount of disdain, she counted out her tips from the previous night. She'd already earned this month's rent but set aside and hundred for the next month. Thinking about it again, she added another fifty and kept the hundred and seventy-five in a separate pile. She had no doubt she would make more in the coming days but having a sixth of next month's rent already allocated would ease her mind. Stuffing the rent into its own labelled envelope, she considered for a second and labelled another 'Future' before putting a hundred into it.

Taking another bite of cereal, she looked down at the soggy mess it had become and slowly chewed before swallowing. She hated wasting food but this...wasn't food. It wasn't that she'd become spoiled by Nathan's cooking - though she clearly had - but it was obvious that she hadn't read the box correctly. The tasteless and textureless cereal she'd been feeding herself felt like a punishment and she dumped the remaining bowl down the sink before doing a quick wash of the dishes.

Placing the envelopes in their hiding place behind the cocoa in the pantry, she went to the bedroom to put on a shirt. Blue jeans and only a bra in public, while legally acceptable, were not her preferred garments of choice. In the bathroom she pulled her hair back and ran the brush though her tail, settling for neat and clean rather than any particular style. Retrieving the seventy-five dollars from the kitchen table, she put it in her battered wallet, grabbed the box of not-food, and left the apartment.

En route to a bus stop a bit further away, she stopped at a local park. Kids were supposed to be in school but there were always a couple lingering about and today was no exception. The pigeons seemed to be eyeing the new arrival, both suspiciously and hungrily as they waited for food to mysteriously appear. Sylvie decided to accommodate them and upended the box of cereal. Almost immediately she was engulfed in a flood of birds diving in from everywhere. She was more amazed than scared, that was, until she saw the look she was being given. At least she thought she was being given a look as one of the first few birds to have eaten the cereal had stopped and was staring at her. The way it was doing so, though, she imagined it giving her the middle finger if it could. Other pigeons slowly seemed to catch on, with most flying off as they realized how poor of a food source she'd offered them.

"Sorry," she said quietly, giving a shrug, and turned to recycle the box while throwing away the bag. As she left the park, she had a pretty good feeling that if she were to return later that she would find most of the cereal still there. A half block away she belatedly realized she'd forgotten to get the name on the box and swore at herself for doing so - she didn't look forward to the day when she accidentally purchased the poor excuse for a cereal again.

Reaching the bus stop just as the bus was arriving, she climbed aboard and found it to be standing room only. These, she could honestly admit, were the only times that being a skunk ever paid off for her. Unlike her peers, she was never, _ever_crowded and, the one time she was, as soon as the other passenger saw what she was, he turned white and very nearly climbed over someone else to get away from her. At the time it bothered her but, later, it made her smile in a sad way. She was certain this must have happened any number of times before but this one instance stuck with her.

A dozen stops later, near the industrial district and close to an assembly plant she'd one temped at, she got off and could very nearly hear a collective sigh as the doors closed behind her. It was nice to know she had such power over others but, at the same time, sad to know that that same attribute is what turned most of them against her without even getting a chance to know her. Even those from other maligned species tended to look down upon her - either because were truly scared of her or in an effort to be accepted by the higher castes.

What made the matter worse was that even skunks didn't tend to associate with each other when they became adults. Perhaps it was because they'd grown up and learned the emotional defense mechanisms necessary to cope with life outside childhood but friendships, like the one she and Katherine shared - had shared? - were not common. Even now, though she'd written to her friend a few days before, she didn't know if the e-mail would ever be read or if the address was even still valid - it had been more than a year since she'd heard from Kat.

Not for the first - or even hundredth - time did she wonder how she might ever meet someone. Even despite Will's intimations she didn't hold her breath in hopes that it would ever evolve into something more than simply being friends or, at best, a one night stand. She realized the latter part of that thought was her mother speaking and noticed a pall had fallen over her and she shook her body, from her head to her tail, to try and rid herself of it.

Two blocks later, she opened the door, bell ringing, to 24-hour diner in a half-abandoned retail strip and was assaulted by the smell of decades of eggs and bacon being prepared the same way by the same people. Even the decorations and tablecloths were period of when the place was opened and she couldn't imagine it any other way. Seeing the rumpled black cap stuffed into the pocket of a tan tweed jacket being worn by a grizzled badger sitting at the bar caused her to smile and make her way to the stool next to him. Inhaling, she absorbed the smell of pipe tobacco which he'd, no doubt, been absorbing for as many years as the restaurant had been around.

"Buy a girl some breakfast, Stripes?" she said, sliding onto the stool. If he'd ever had another name she didn't know it but she wouldn't be surprised if it were something like Chauncey, or Kelly, or Marion.

A fierce glare appeared in the corner of his eyes then, as he did a double-take, a toothy grin emerged on his face, taking all fearsomeness with it. The hard and ever ready bearing of a boxer faded into the middle-aged, slightly soft man that Sylvie had come to know and appreciate.

"Socks!" he said, his voice rough from the years of unfiltered smoking. "How the hell are you?" He stood and swept her into a hug that, as his physique suggested, was rough but warm and welcome. "Where you been?" He called to the cook behind the counter. "Marv, get Socks some breakfast!"

The cook, tall and thin, but as gristly as Stripes, simply held up his spatula in response to the order but neither turned around nor said anything. In fact, though Sylvie had been here many times, she had never heard Marv utter as much as a single word.

"You know," she said, sitting back on the stool, "been looking for work. There's not much out there."

"Not much out there for those us like, you mean," Stripes said, himself settling back on his stool. He took a swig of coffee that, if smell was any indication, was as strong as he'd been at one point. "You know you'd always be welcome to work here."

"I know, Stripes, and I truly appreciate it. You've always been good to me, though I don't know why."

"We gotta stick together, Socks, people like us. Society ain't gonna help us unless it's to give us a boot in the ass and make us move further on down the line."

This was a frequent lament of his and typically presaged a lengthy diatribe if he wasn't deterred quickly. It had been one of the things which had initially attracted her to him, he being able to give words and reasons to why she felt what she did. Like many aspects of his personality, she doubted this view had changed very much over the years.

"Well," she said, "that's partly why I'm here. I need to settle a debt."

"Shit, Socks, you don't own me nothing."

"I owe you probably more than you know," she said, being honest. She hadn't been in the city long and had been growing increasingly despondent until the day she'd met Stripes. Nothing had been going right and if she'd thought eating cucumber sandwiches not but a week ago was bad, the time before Stripes had been worse. She'd entered the diner, then, hoping to milk the promise of free coffee for all it was worth and found a father figure instead.

Pulling a couple twenties from her wallet, she slid them over to him. "Consider this a down payment."

"You know I ain't taking this." He slid money back toward her.

"Stripes, please. I know it's not much, and I owe you more, but please take it."

Turning to her, he stared her in the eyes. "I ain't taking it, Socks, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"Then I'm paying for breakfast."

"You ain't never paying for breakfast."

"Dammit, Stripes. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Because we all have to be, Socks. We all have to be." And he flashed that grin that told her he was done talking about it.

Her ploy wasn't quite a ploy - she would gladly pay Stripes and knew she'd racked up a tab over the past year - but it had also served to prevent him from carrying on about the inequities in the world they lived in. The sly smile on Marv's face, along with the look in his eyes, suggested he knew what she'd done as he placed a glass of orange juice to the side, and the plate with ham, bacon, hash browns, and eggs in front of her. The eggs were over easy and, when Marv returned a moment later, found grape jelly already slathered on the toast he presented. It had always been this way since the first time she ate here, even though she preferred scrambled eggs and plain toast; she was not one to turn down a free breakfast, however, and had been as vocal as Marv about it.

"So," Stripes said, giving her a second to make sure the food was to her liking, "where you been?"

"Finding a job," she said, chewing on the ham.

"Any luck?"

Sylvie nodded and swallowed. "High Tails."

Stripes nearly choked on his coffee. "You're...dancing?"

"You're saying I can't?" she said playfully, looking at him over the piece of bacon she'd started working on.

"It- I didn't- How-" The look on his face mirrored his trouble with articulating his words and Sylvie had to laugh. Hearing her doing so, he clamped his jaw and looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes before laughing with her. "You ain't dancing, are you?"

"No," she admitted, "but I do work there."

"If you don't mind me asking, what--"

"Waitress, Stripes. I'm a waitress." The relief on his face was evident, to be quickly followed by confusion.

"But you could have worked here doing the same thing."

"Yes, but absence makes the heart grow fonder." She chewed on her toast while giving him time to think that over.

Nodding, he said, "Yes. I believe you're right." He nudged her with an elbow. "It is good to see you."

After that, she spent the next hour telling him about her meeting with Firgil, her experience with Tiffany, lunch with Misti, and everything else that had happened since she'd landed her job. Marv came over at one point to top off her orange juice and stayed for a moment to listen to the conversation before returning to grill up another order.

"And what about you?" she asked, finally running out of things to say. "How have you been?"

"Well," he started a bit reluctantly, "I had a problem with my ticker a couple months back. Ended up in the hospital for a couple days."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Don't have your number."

"The hell you--" She stood up and reached over the counter for a blank order pad and pen. Scribbling her number down, she thrust it at him. "Don't lose it this time."

"Socks." He stared at her plaintively.

"Stripes." Her look was stern and, ultimately, he relented as he always had. They shared an easy laugh and Sylvie began thinking this is how she imagined her dad would be if he-- She shut down that thought quickly and let Stripes carry on with the same typical stuff that she'd bored him with.

Finally, taking at look at the clock and seeing how long she'd been here, she realized she should be getting home. Pleasantly full, she pushed back from the counter, trying to nonchalantly slip the two twenties under her empty plate. She felt she would have succeeded if Marv hadn't come by at that moment to collect the dishes.

"I already told you, Socks, you ain't paying for breakfast." He scooped up the bills and placed them in her hand. "The first time you do will be the last time you come back here."

It was as stern of a rebuke as she'd ever received from him and nodded while putting the money back in her pocket. "You're too good to me."

"Well, someone's gotta be. When you find yourself a good man maybe we'll reconsider things." That was his standard way of parting and she found herself a bit sad that if one day she did find someone that would change.

"Thank you, Stripes." She put her arms around him and squeezed.

"No, thank you, Socks. Take care of yourself."

Sylvie had never understood his almost instant affection for her. Sure, many times she'd seen him be friendly with other customers but the way he treated her was almost...familial. She'd thought to ask Marv any number of times but, considering how talkative he was, she wasn't sure she'd receive an answer. Only once did she even get a sense of some underlying reason and Stripes had stopped talking as fast as she'd ever talked about her father with someone. There was pain in both situations, that much was evident, but nothing was ever discussed further between them.

Now, on the bus where her thoughts could wander further than she was comfortable with at the moment, she focused, instead, on what she should do with her time and money. Given how she'd run around last night there was good likelihood she would go home and take a nap. Mary would be back but, based upon what everyone said, tonight was going to be just as hectic. She just hoped she didn't get anymore skippers.

She wasn't hungry and, given Marv's cooking, wouldn't be for quite a while. There wasn't anything she especially wanted to see in the theatre and didn't know of anything else going on in the city she wanted to attend. Sure, she could always go to the beach again and doze under the sun but the thought of running into Kaitlyn was enough to turn her away from that. Finally, seeing someone getting on the bus watching something on their tablet, she knew what to do.

Three stops later she got off the bus in front of an appliance rental store. She didn't know who Lee was, nor why he called it a barn, but the rent-to-own sign and the modest size television in the window caught her attention. Standing outside, she weighed her decision about whether to go in and finally took the few steps necessary to open the door.

Inside, the showroom was small but well lit and focused mainly on electronics, which suited her purpose. Heading over to the TV, she watched the image for a moment and looked at the price, pleasantly surprised at the number. Turning it to the side, she looked at the ports and nodded her head.

"Need some help?" someone said behind from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder at an older squirrel who, she hoped, had some affliction which simply made him appear nervous rather than actually being discomfited by her. "Just trying to gather some information," she said.

"Ah, well if--"

"Don!" someone shouted from behind the counter. "Get over here."

Sylvie looked up to see a mink chewing on a toothpick, appearing none too happy about something. Don blinked slowly in resignation. "Please excuse me for a moment," he said with a forced smile.

She watched him for a few steps before turning back to the TV and reading the specs posted alongside it. That didn't, however, prevent her from trying to listen in on the conversation happening between Don and the mink. Whatever was being said was too low to hear, though she did hear "skunk", "their kind", and "fired" being emphasized. She was sure there would have been more but, just then, a panther couple entered the store.

Turning, she saw Don coming back her way who, yes, was suffering from something. The look on his face gave her the gist of their conversation.

"I'm sorry, Miss. It appears that television is not for sale any longer." He said it with what sounded like actual regret even though he knew she knew the reason it wasn't being sold.

"Do you have any others?" she asked. She was not particularly interested in buying anything from this place, regardless of the answers, but needed to know if it was as bad as she thought.

The squirrel tried twice to say something before letting his shoulders fall. "I'm sorry, Miss. This is wrong - I can't lie to you. Tim, over there," he nodded toward the mink, "is the owner's nephew and worthless. Since they put him in charge of the store business has fallen off considerably.

"I want to sell you the television, I really do, but he has to approve the deal and he'll make the terms so unreasonable it would be pointless to buy it here if he simply doesn't outright deny it all-together. My advice is head over to a big box store, sign up for one of their promotional credit card deals, and buy a TV from them. It'll likely be cheaper and they'll probably also deliver it to your door."

So, it was as bad as she thought but at least Don was being honest with her. She gave him a small, but genuine, smile and headed for the front door. Opening it, she heard Tim say to the panther couple that they did, indeed, have a nice television for them. She looked over at him and he gave her a smug grin. She replied with one of her own and added a twitch of her tail. It was enough to make his smile disappear and eyes go round in horror.

Back outside she felt miserable. It wasn't so much the experience in the store that bothered her - she dealt with jerk-offs like Tim all the time - but it was her reaction that left her feeling ashamed. Oh, yes, it perfectly described how she felt and what she wanted to do but the problem was she would never, ever consciously spray anything and by intimating she would only perpetuated the stereotype against her species.

A glance at the schedule on the wall of the bus stop showed her another bus would be along in ten minutes and she chose to walk to the next stop, more to give her something to do than sit with her thoughts. The bit of exercise wouldn't be unwelcome, either.

/ / /

For as poorly as her experience at Lee's Rental Barn had been, her experience at Best Buy had been the polar opposite. She laughed at the coincidence, now sitting at home on her futon, since Evan, her salesperson, was a polar bear. He didn't in the least seem bothered by her and, being over seven feet tall, literally provided a different perspective. She told him what she was looking for and he directed her right to it - not seemingly because of what she was and get rid of her but because he was able to identify her want. True, the TV she'd decided on was a bit larger than she intended but it was cheaper than the one at Lee's and included a free stand so she wouldn't have to attach it to the wall.

Ms. Xi would have had a fit about that.

She'd also received a free FireStick for opening a new credit card and had six months without interest to pay it off. After that she would be looking at twenty-nine percent but she didn't anticipate having a balance more than a couple months, and that only to help build her credit history. She appreciated the fact that Don had pointed her in this direction and felt bad that she couldn't repay him in some fashion.

Delivery was supposed to be in a couple hours and she debated on running through Netflix to see what she could binge-watch on her new screen but decided on taking a nap, recalling the hectic night before. She wasn't as sore as she'd been the first couple nights on the job but, if last night was any indication, tonight she would be lucky to get a break. She wouldn't prefer it any other way, though, as it made the time pass faster. The tips didn't hurt either.