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The Red Tiger

Chapter 4: Discovery

The next few days go by relatively slow, I had dinner with my father the night of my getting hurt and that was easily the best quality time I had ever spent with him. He brought back some big, greasy burgers from a local, family owned burger joint, dad never liked big chain fast food places, says they don't have the same character as a homegrown place. We were eating and chatting happily, catching up on things, he asked me about school, friends and my overall feelings about being considered an upperclassmen while I responded nicely with questions about his work, trying to sound at least a little bit interested in big business despite my not knowing a single damn thing about it. My father knew I didn't know anything about his work either but he was happy knowing I was at least trying to listen and be interested.

After another excruciatingly boring day of being placed on 'bed rest' the doctors ran a few more tests on me. They were pretty shocked to find how quickly I had healed up, and honestly I have to agree with them. It had only been about a day and a half and my wrist was virtually pain-free and healthy. The burns on my legs where all but a couple of scabs at this point, my cracked ribs where seemingly back to normal and the two ribs that actually broke were set back into place and healing nicely.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty damn sore from all that had happened and those two broken ribs where creating a stiff stabbing feeling in my side. I was finally able to go home, although the doctor sent me back with a thick and itchy rib brace I had to wear for at least three weeks and they still told me I had to rest, no physical activity until I felt back up to one hundred percent, which I guess I can understand.

Father brought me back to a home that now seemed less like my personal prison and more like a place where a family could be happy. He had called my school and told them about what happened, he then calls up Tim who, may I add, has been texting me virtually non-stop sense I was in the hospital, like, NON-STOP. Anyway, he asked Tim to help tutor me in my classes and keep me up to date on my homework while I was home resting. This felt so nice, refreshing even, my father seemed like a totally different person than he did just a week ago, he didn't look so run down and tired all the time, he was smiling more and acting way more energetic. But the part about his new attitude change that I loved the most was that I got to see him regularly, he had asked for some reduced hours at work, explaining it had to do with his son, I guess his boss is a real family man because he gave my father as much time off as he needed to be with me, he still had to post some things and write up a few documents everyday but having the ability to work from home really was great for the both of us.

It was a Friday afternoon, the weather looking crappy as it had been raining for the past two days. Some late summer rain that fed the overgrowth and green trees that populated the sidewalks, their leaves a brighter shade of green as if saying they were happy to finally get some wet weather.

I'm sitting in the den watching TV on the couch, curled up in a quilted blanket, one of those kinds of blankets that has been in your family so long that nobody can really remember how you got it in the first place.

My father is in his office just the next room over when I heard the sound of soft knocks on the door, I start to get up when my father fast walks out of his office, giving me a quick wave of a paw and smile, telling me he's got it as he opens the door, under a red and white umbrella was the fox I knew all too well, Tim was standing there in the pouring rain, wearing a grey hoodie and some black jeans, giving a quick smile as he greets my father

"oh Tim, great for you to stop by on such a crappy day, come in, come in, Connor's in the den"

he said, knowing that Tim has been here so many times before that he's practically family and has no need for guest formalities.

Tim nods and sheaths his umbrella, setting it next to the door as he takes his backpack off, now holding it with one paw by the top strap as he walks into the den, I sit up and give him a big smile, he returns it as he gives me a quick swish of his paw symbolizing me to move my legs a bit, I smirk at him and move my legs so they were resting on the floor, the blanket still covering them as his light frame plops himself onto the vacant side of the couch, he turns to me with a look of excitement, his ears tall and eyes full of energy as he jabs me on the shoulder, of which was still kind of sore as I flinch a bit

"you, my striped friend, are a massive idiot you know that?"

he said, chuckling to show that he was not actually mad at me for what I did which was a nice change of pace from my fathers first reaction.

"Oh really now?, Last I checked I-" I covered my muzzle with my paw and coughed loudly, my throat still felt smoky and warm as I coughed a few more times before gathering myself and taking a sip of water out of a cup sitting next to me, Tim sighs and shakes his head

"and thats all the proof I needed, your lungs are still pretty messed up aren't they?"

he said, crossing his arms and giving me a look, my ears go flat and I sigh, resisting the urge to cough again

"n-no...I'm fine, trust me, the smoke was the last of my worries"

I said, trying to half smile and lighten the mood but his look was un-wavering so I try to change the topic quickly

"s-so, has anybody been talking about it at school?". Tim sighs and gives me a look before playing along with the attitude change

"well of course, it's been spreading around like wildfire, some call you a hero, others call you a poser who just wants attention"

he said, the last half of that sentence kind of stung

"r-really? They think that I was just trying to get attention?"

I said with my ears folded down, Tim turns his muzzle away a bit but his eyes swing back to me, winking

"only the people who are jealous of all the attention you've been getting that is".

I sigh a breath of relief as I shake my head and smile softly at the fox

"well thats not so bad then..."

he nods, looking back at me as his tail was swishing behind him on the couch, he kept looking down at my legs, as if they were amputated or something. I catch his look and give a sigh and frown

"you know, if you wanted to see you just needed to ask"

Tim blushes and quickly flicks his muzzle away and crosses his arms

"I don't know what you're talking about"

he said, but his eyes trailed back to look at me as I pulled the covers off my legs, Tim turned his muzzle back towards me as he looked at my almost healed legs. I was wearing gym shorts that covered most of the marks on my upper legs but my knees down still had several deep scabs, patches of fur that were either singed or covered with irritated skin, my feet were fine however, the fur still orange with black stripes that ran horizontally along my calves and ankles. Tim's eyes widened but then squinted a bit, he always did that when he was observing something important. He reaches a paw down but then retracts it, looking back to me

"may I?"

I assumed he just wanted to look at it closer so I nod and he gets off the couch, sitting on the floor indian style and getting a closer look at my right leg, holding it gently by the top of my calf with one paw and softly pulling back the fur with the other, looking at the skin. He nodded and was mumbling to himself, digesting what he was seeing.

Then he gave me a look at that I honestly have not seen on him in years, a surprised one.

I blink and give him a confused look back, his small paws still holding my leg

"w-what? whats going on?" Tim gently lets my leg go and stands back up onto his feet, crossing his arms, his ears perked, I could tell he was as confused as I was

"I-I don't know what I'm looking at here... Your skin is almost totally healed up, this is outstanding....incredible actually!"

he said, raising his voice a bit in his enthusiasm. Tim was always hated puzzles, riddles, tricks and schemes. It kills him when he doesn't know the answer to something so for him to not even have a clue as to what was happening to my body made me a little more worried than I previously was. I try to toss the thoughts aside as I flip the covers back over my legs to keep them warmer

"what do you mean by 'incredible'?"

I said with some confusion, my ears perked up straight and my tail lashing behind me, Tim nods and formulates his thoughts in a matter of half seconds

"well thats just the thing, a burn of that degree should take at least a month or so to full heal up, not including the fact that you'd probably have some kind of scar tissue leftover, which I don't see any of at all...What else did you say you hurt?"

he asks, his paw on his chin, pondering as I still feel the stiff pain of my broken ribs

"I dislocated my left paw, fractured three ribs and broke two more, why do you ask?". Tim nods as his bushy tail was swishing back and fourth at a brisk pace

"well from what your father told me, you've almost healed up from that pretty quickly too, Connor, in reality you should be out of commission for at least two or three months, but you're almost back to normal after three days"

he ponders and sits back down on the couch, pulling out his big math text book and a notebook, flipping to a section of the book that I have not covered in class and looking back at me with a smile

"I'll look into it more later, for now you have some homework to catch back up on"

I groan and give him a look, three days of no homework was really starting to get good too. I reluctantly nod and give him a look back

"you just love to torture me don't you?"

Tim gives me a wide fox grin as he sticks his tongue out

"all in a days work my friend"

we proceed to make school work our priority, although I couldn't help but think about what Tim said, how freaked out he looked at what he saw. I could tell that Tim knew I was getting worried, hence why I'm sure he wanted to change the subject. I had been through a lot and he knew that, naturally the last thing I should be doing is embarking on some crusade to find out whats going on inside me, he's right, I'm ok now, thats all the counts. He really does have a way with handling hard situations.

I do what the doctors say and rest, I'm on bed rest for the next few days, working on homework with Tim, catching up on my sleep and video games to pass the time. Father has gone back to work full time with an arrangement with his boss to get weekends off so we can spend time with each other, he's been so good to me these past few days.

When he's home he constantly checks up on me and is always talking to me about something which I truly enjoy, seeing his face everyday really helped lift my spirits and even though he's much too prideful to say so himself, I think seeing me everyday has brightened up his life a bit as well. The day after today was when I began going back to school, I woke up early and my father even drove me there.

I give him a hug in the car as he tells me to have a good day, I nod and smile back as I close the door and watch him drive off into the heavy and congested morning traffic of the city. For some reason in the back of my head, the selfish part of me imagined a bunch of people greeting me and telling me that I'm some sort of hero, I'd try to be modest and say that It was nothing and the cycle would repeat its self for the next few days. In reality however, only a few people came up to me and asked me about the situation, people I had never known up until then but people none the less.

I was unsure how to react to their comments, I'd just tell them I got hurt and I saved a child, show them my bandaged wrist and pull up my shirt to show them my stuffy rib brace but that was about it. Besides the small amount of attention I got when I first came back, there was not a whole lot of thought put into it, things went back to normal pretty quickly and in all honesty, that is what I prefer.

I didn't save the little girl to be a hero, I saved her because I wanted to save her, because I imagined myself as a father and what it would be like if I had lost a son or daughter to a tragic accident, all the pain and anguish that I could not even begin to think about feeling.

Then I also imagined my father, what it would be like for him to lose his son, especially so soon after losing his daughter and wife to a nasty divorce.

I keep thinking about that one thing all day long, grabbing a seat in my last period english class near the back, next to a window, staring out and viewing the late summer scenery, the still green leaves on the trees gently blowing in the soft breeze, the backdrop sounds of the bustling city that I've gotten so used to hearing. Then I see a tigress in a clean, grey business suit for women walking along the street next to the school, she honestly looked just like my mother, the way she walked and the way she carried herself. My mother was a strong woman, you could never tell her 'never' without her at least trying to prove you wrong first.

She was also a very loving and caring. I say 'was' as if she's dead or something, well she might as well be, she hasn't been in my life for more than two years, only times I've gotten a phone call was on Christmas day and New Years night, otherwise she's totally absent.

My parents had a nasty divorce to say the least, what sucked the most about it is that I was old enough to understand what was going on. The thing about divorce is that it is never easy. If it happens when you're young you kind of grow up thinking 'why wont mom and dad be together?' But you never really think much more of it.

Some kids have their parents all through their childhoods but they split after the children have grown up, while the kids like me, who at fifteen years old acted as referee for mom and dads arguments while my sister cried upstairs, have to deal with the stinging memories of a wound that will, in all fairness never quite heal right.

In all fairness to my father who has done his part to change and get better, has paid his child support bill for my sister to someday go to college and regularly calls her to say hi. My mother on the other paw does not do any of those things for me, her child support seemed to just fade away and like I said before, she never talks to me.

Things like this really make me think, probably in the wrong place as before I know it the bell rings and the class is eagerly packing up their things and rushing out the door to enjoy the evening. I slowly pick up my things and begin to walk out the door when I see the grey panther walk in front of me, wearing a button up shirt, white tie and grey dress pants. He has his arms crossed and was giving me a look as I get out of my trance long enough to notice his stare

"so, you come back from almost dying in a fire and now you suddenly are my most quiet student?"

he said with a slight smirk on his face, as if to try and lighten the mood, maybe I was not doing such a good job about keeping my feelings on the inside

"no Mr. Henric, I'm sorry, I've just been thinking about a lot of stuff lately"

I said, the safe answer, the honest one as well

"well your father called me, told me how badly you got hurt, you need to talk to me about anything?"

he said, his tail flicking back and fourth as he tries to read my face and body language

"no, I think I'm alright sir, but I appreciate your concerns"

I said with a false smile that gets me through the walls of his concerns as he nods, pats me on the shoulder and tells me to come back to the front of the class tomorrow, I tell him I'll try and he chuckles at that.

I get off campus and am on my way home when I feel a buzz from my pants pocket, I take out my phone to see a text from Tim, it said 'hey bro, meet me by Michael's place, we gotta do something' I raise an eyebrow in suspicion, Michael's is a small, family owned deli a few blocks down from the school, kind of a sketchy part of town but really only at night.

I text back with 'um, sure, but why?' as I turn around and begin to walk the few blocks down the street to the downtown area near my school. I get a final text back saying 'just come on dummy, its fine' he attached an emoticon of a fox smirking, one that he actually hacked his own phone and put in himself, damn fox is too smart sometimes.

I make my way to the corner of Beverly and Parks, where Michael's deli was along with a few congested alleyways and a small children's nature park that we used to play on when Tim and I were cubs.

I stand at the edge of the street, taking a seat on one of the metal chairs sitting outside of the deli that customers can use to eat their sandwiches there if they so choose, wondering why the hell Tim called me out here. Halfway through an imaginary conversation with the fox he shows up with his grey backpack he's had sense he was eight and the same fox smirk on his face that I'm sure he's had sense birth.

I stand up and smile

"ok, so what do you want? Why are we all the way out here?"

I asked, Tim nods as his face for some reason gets to be a little less warm, less fun and more in a business manner

"well come on and you'll find out, just follow me and stop asking so many questions alright?"

ok, in all honesty now he's beginning to scare me a bit, he's never this serious around me, we're total goofballs when were together so this strange bit of seriousness is a thing I do not get to see too much of in this fox.

He walks down a few back alleyways and I follow him, the alleys congested with fire escapes and nasty smelling dumpsters, power lines run up high above us, birds perched and chirping on them as they converse in their different language.

We get to the end of the alleyway, a dead end. I am looking at Tim who's in front of fifty feet of brick wall as my face is trying to figure out what this fox has up his sleeve. He sets his bag down on the ground and sighs, standing up straight and looking at me straight in the eyes, my eyes wander a little bit to try and make it less awkward as I finally need to ask

"so, what is it exactly you need fro-"

suddenly Tim produces a small switch blade from his shirt sleeve and lunges at me with it, he reaches up as I move my arms in front of me to protect myself, he slashes the inside of my right paw with the blade, cutting relatively deep as I yell out in pain, gripping my paw with my bandaged one as I was panting hard and growling loudly at Tim

"AGH!! What the hell's your problem Tim?!!"

staring at the fox as he flips the blade back into the handle and stuffs it in his back pocket, his expression still somewhat cold as he reaches out and grabs my bleeding paw, I growl and take it back as he looks up at me with a cold look

"give me your paw now! quickly!"

His face was so cold, so serious, I've never seen him act this way before and it was scaring me a bit, well, along with getting stabbed with a knife but thats beside the point.

The pain was not actually as bad as I had always figured it to be, getting slashed with a blade looked so bad in the movies when in reality it stung for a bit but in the end was not unbearable.

Tim gives me a look as I give him my paw, he takes out a small magnifying glass that he placed over his right eye, using both of his paws to keep my trembling paw still, I try my best to keep it still but the adrenaline of getting slashed with a knife, especially from my best friend was enough to keep my heart pounding.

Tim wipes my bloody paw down with a small towel and then closely observes the wound, his eyes widen enough for his eye glass to fall out of his right eye, it hits the concrete ground as I'm so overwhelmed with fear, pain and confusion as Tim looks back up to me with a look that I can only describe as astounded "Connor, I-I don't know what to say but...The wound, its...already healing".