Recursion. Arc 1, part 2: On the Roof

Story by lamoxlamae on SoFurry

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#2 of Recursion


Hey gang! Welcome to part 2 of a little novella I've been finding myself cooking up. It will have a total of 3 arcs broken into sections for your convenience. :) This one is a little shorter than most of the other sections but it seemed like the most logical way to break up the story at the time. *shrugs*

Now for the obligatory warnings: This part of the story contains oggling/voyerism, more supernatural weirdness, and still more brooding bobcat goodness. If these sorts of things bother you, you may want to read something else.

Still here? Good! Enjoy the reading. :)

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I remember when you could see the whole city from up here on this pebble roof. Then again, I remember a lot of things, so it's not all that important, is it? My spot is down near where they installed an air conditioner about twenty years back. I've scouted the whole place out- it's perfect for people-watching if you're a compact bobcat like me. The building itself is basically abandoned except for where they rent out storage in the lower floors and a few guys I know rent out the top. It's not like they care that I hang around out here as long as I'm not on the clock; they don't like to clean up a mess. I pull the tarp off an old folding chair and take out a pair of binoculars and proceeded with people-watching. Looks like they've got quite a crowd down at the station; must be a train coming in for a change. I guess it's my lucky day.

Let's see now... businessmen with briefcases... oh, looks like a family welcoming daddy home. Oh, how cute; a poster paint and macaroni sign on cardboard. I'll bet they took all day making that. Now there's a sight for sore eyes; about fifteen pretty young things all in uniforms. I'm not sure if it's a girl's choir or a prep school, but, either way, they sure look like they're turning out nicely with those soft pelts and fine, shiny headfur. It's almost sad to see them get on the train. Oh well. Let's see who's arriving.

More businessmen get off the train, their suits blending together like a herd of multicolored tweed buffalo meandering to a water hole. Oh look, here's daddy; a soldier boy. Looks like the mutt is missing an ear, but I don't think anyone cares right now. Some things never change nomatter how many years it's been; as long as someone's paying there'll be people stupid enough to volunteer to come fight regardless of the cause and a family always ready to ignore the missing pieces when they come back home. I'll bet he's deaf in that ear. Hey, I see a wolf looking sad at the soldier's wife; I'll bet she was cheating. Serves him right for abandoning them like that; I would have never left my Carol like that. Family before work and definitely before the government any day.

Wait a second... that black cat over there... she's not moving. The people flow around her like the tides around a rock, but she stays motionless. I focus in on her. She doesn't have a suitcase, but it's not like she's looking for one either. Is she looking for someone? No, I don't see anyone looking in her direction; it's almost like nobody notices she's there. Sure, a little black cat dressed in black isn't going to be that obvious, but still the place is thinning out and nobody's coming to her and she doesn't seem to be bothering to go looking for anyone. Why is she there? The place is empty again as the train pulls out of the station. Normally I'd be watching the great wheels turn as the train pulls out of sight, but there's something odd about that cat. What the hell...? She's looking at me. How can she even watch me from there? I've been down there, you can't see the roof from there and it's not like I'm standing up and drawing attention to myself. How the hell is she watching me? Before I can come up with any good explanations, the black cat smiles to herself then darts off down an alleyway and out of sight.

I lean back in the folding chair and rest the binoculars on my lap. Tipping back my hat I rub my forehead for a few moments. What the hell was that? I mean, she wasn't a ghost but something's not right and I can't put my finger on it. I glance at my pocket watch. Finally, it's 3 PM. I find myself purring nervously as I spend a few moments thinking. Was I just imagining things? I get up, putting the binoculars back before laying the tarp back over the top of the folding chair, then climb down the old rusty ladder, descending back across the creaky fire escape, into the streets.

The sun has crossed the sky and now the buildings cast tall shadows in the fading light. Just two more hours till sundown, I've got to hang on till then. Rush Hour traffic is starting to pick up and the streets are thick with the smells and sounds of cars driven by furs hurrying home. What's the rush? It's like nobody takes their time anymore. A couple school busses drive by and I can see the tiny muzzles of the fidgety cubs inside. I feel a little sorry for the busdriver. Right about now I'm grateful the city installed those crosswalk lights about twenty years back; it really makes life easier, even if you already know the traffic patterns.

It takes forever to get back to Mike's and already the place is packed and there's a line out the door. I walk up to the burly bear in a tuxedo by the entrance, taking a guess that he's probably the bouncer.

"Excuse me, but would you know what event they are having?" I ask politely, my voice quavering with a slight bit of confusion. Mike's never was this busy last year!

"Oh. That. Well, partner", the bear says with a grin, "looks like you've missed the news. This place has gone though an overhaul; we're a five-star metropolitan grille and bar now. Half the time you need reservations to even get in! I'm guessing you're missing back when we were just a pub, eh pal?"

My short tail swishes uneasily beneath my coat, "Yeah. That I do."

"Well, man, things change. I'd let you in, I remember back last year you were a pretty good customer, but they'd have my head for putting us over capacity. Sorry about that; maybe next year?", The bear says, shaking his head as a tall vixen in an evening gown comes to the door holding a clip board.

"Faukes-Williams, Party of 3?", she reads in a cheery voice.

The bear brushes me aside with a great padded paw, "Got to let the people in. See ya around, pal."

I walk away, trying hard not to mutter to myself. When the hell did that happen? Fuck, last year Mike's was a hole-in-the ground place for good brews and guy talk, not these Eurotrash knockoffs lining up around the block! My eyes narrow. Damnit, where do I go now? Why the fuck can't things just stand still where they are? Everything's perfectly good until someone comes along and changes it. I'm on the verge of rage as I storm down the street. A man looks positively frightened of me as I pass by, and so I pause and look at myself in a shop window. Great, my eyes are glowing green again under the wide brim of my hat. Best get to an alleyway until I calm down.

I turn down the first alleyway I find and begin wandering through the winding narrow paths between the looming buildings. High above me the lights turn on in the windows as the sun sinks into the earth and I know night is finally here. I stop for a few minutes at the intersection of an alleyway and a side street and lean against a concrete wall, drawing in a deep breath for my own comfort as the first streetlights turn on.

There's something about the dark I like. Maybe it's just the fact that everyone looks normal in the dark, maybe it's the fact that all the bars and clubs are open, or maybe it's the fact that the night has a tangible quality to it missing from the shadows of the day; I don't know. Either way, with that brilliant yellow ball gone from the sky, I always feel better.

The garish shades of neon reflect off a broken bottle, catching my attention. Hey, why haven't I noticed that place before? I contemplate investigating only briefly before letting curiosity lead me towards the light.

((To be continued in Part 3: The Bull Branch))