FSE

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Arden brushed his teeth while trying to pat down that unruly thatch of fur between his ears, trying to ignore the headache knocking on the back of his skull. He only had a few minutes before he had to be out the door, and he had one more quick thing to do before that. Today was gonna be hard. All-nighters could do that to you.

On his desk, now not nearly as blinding or foreboding a stage as it had seemed during the previous long night of his soul, sat a pencil sketch, colored with aquarelles. Arden studied his handiwork as he re-entered the main, and only, room of his space, still absently pawing at his headfur. Before him sat the final creation of a tumultuous evening, a pictorial summation of the extensive elegy he had written to the memory of his dear friend.

On a ground of cerulean blue broken by puffy white clouds, the sketch depicted an upturned black top hat, from which a certain, smiling fennec fox was making his grand appearance, arms spread wide in triumph and welcome. In one paw he had a magic wand, from which bright stars seemed to emanate. In the other, he held a leash attached to a small, broadly smiling tiger sitting beside the hat, with a silvery collar around his neck. Across the bottom were inscribed the words: David. Many saw your performance, but only a few knew your real magic.

Arden's finger trembled as he dialed the phone.

"Hello?" came a groggy voice on the other end.

"Hi mom."

"Arden? What? Is everything OK? Are you OK? What time is it? Shouldn't you be on your way to work?"

"No. No. Everything is fine mom. I'm fine. I just. I only have a few minutes, and I really needed to ask you something."

There was a pause. "Of course, honey. Anything you need."

"Mom, you know my friend David died a few weeks ago, right?"

"Oh. Honey. I know. You told me he was very sick. Are you? Are you doing OK? I know it must be very hard. He was so young."

"Well, see, that's the thing. Um. I'm...I'm not doing too well. I really need...I really need to talk to somebody about everything and...I need... he died of FIDS, mom."

Another pause. "OK."

"And it's just...what they're saying on TV and everything. He. He was a good person, one of the best I've known, and I just. I need to honor him somehow, he was so much more than this disease! And...and I was hoping you would help me with that."

"Well, honey, I'll help you in any way I can, you know that. What can I do?"

Arden took a sharp intake of breath. His fur was prickling terribly. "Well, see, there's this thing called the FIDS quilt? And they make these big squares for the quilt honoring those we've lost. It's a political thing too, obviously, and it travels and they put it on display to get exposure for this horrible pandemic, since so many want to just make all the ill furs disappear. I...Mom...I..."

"Yes, dear?" came the tremulous reply. Then a bit more emphatically, "Arden. Are you OK?"

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine mom. I just... I want to do a panel for the quilt. I drew the design last night, and I want to get it done by the time it reaches L.A. That's only in two weeks. I can't do it by myself, and I was hoping you would help me. If we both sew together, I think we can make it."

The brief pause seemed like an eternity to the distraught wolf.

"Ardee, dear heart. Why would you ever think you would need to ask if I would help you? Of course I'll help. I will sew night and day for the next two weeks if that's what you need. My dear, dear boy, you listen to me. I will always love you no matter what. And I'll help you in any way I can. Always. Do you understand? Always."

Arden could barely breathe for the lump in his throat. He audibly caught his breath, deploring his weakness.

"Oh, honey. Please. Please don't cry. It really will be alright. I promise. Please believe me. It hurts me so much that you're in such pain. Why didn't you tell me when we talked before?"

"Mom...it's. Everything is so complicated right now. I just..."

"Dear. How about this. I'll pack up the sewing things today and some clothes and things, and get a neighbor to take in the mail for me, and I'll be on the road tomorrow. You're gonna still need to go to work, so I can work in your apartment during the day. I'll be there tomorrow afternoon, OK? Please. Ardee. Honey. It's going to be alright."

Although some part of him knew that he should have known better, hearing his mom once again effortlessly demonstrate her unconditional love was almost too much for the wolf. He didn't really deserve it, did he? If she knew?

"That's. Oh, that's great! I...Thank you so much, Mom. Thank you so much. Look, um, we can talk more tonight. OK? I'm already late. I have to go now, or I won't have a job to go to tomorrow. Just..." His voice broke with the overwhelming storm of emotions inside him, as tears streamed down his muzzle. "Mom. It'll be so good to see you. And... Mom?"

"Yes dear?"

Arden felt like he might actually pass out. He was light-headed, couldn't get a deep breath, and his heart was pounding so fast, and so hard, it felt like it might jump out of his chest. He tried and failed to choke back a wracking sob.

"And I...I've got to...I have to tell you...Life can be so short and...I'm...We...We really need to talk, OK?" he finally wheezed out.

The utter silence made it seem like the line had disconnected for a moment. Then a faint rustle, like a butterfly's wings, and a slight intake of breath on the other end.

"Oh darling. I know."