FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The mid-day sun beats down on the van, the old machine surrounded by a sea of junked cars and scrap metal. The first thing they did in the morning was hunt down this junkyard to try and find a suitable exhaust for the van to save their eardrums, and this place is huge – surely there's something here that's better than nothing.

“Mark! Look over here, 'cmon look!” she shouts, jumping up and down at the sight before here. He had spent the past few hours running around after her as she got off on to excited tangents about the mechanical remains here. He finally catches up with here, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “It's a Supra! How much do you think the owner wants? We could fix it up real easy, and...” she keeps talking and talking as he zones out, staring at the car she was so excited about. It's black MK3 Supra with no hood, no engine, and major crash damage on the left side.

“Lucy, listen to me. I know you're excited but we have no way to get this home. What we need is an exhaust for the van so we go deaf driving this thing.” He'd been trying to talk her down for a while, this place was like a candy store for her and every 10 minutes she found a new thing she just HAD to have. “C'mon, we should try and get back on the road as soon as possible.” He repeats for what felt like the 8th time this hour, this time gripping her shoulders firmly, making sure she looked him in the eye.

“Fine, fine! Sorry, this place is just... A lot bigger than I'm used to.” she mumbles as they walk back to the van, her eyes lingering on ever potential project they walked by.

“Why don't we go see if the owners in, he'll probably have a idea of what he's got and where.” Lucy reluctantly agrees, walking with him towards a camper trailer by the entrance with the hours written on it – apparently they opened 2 hours ago, but they hadn't seen a soul since they got here. Apprehensively she raps on the door, sounds of crashing and commotion coming from inside. Moments later a startled Picardy Shepherd busts the door open, the old dogs graying fur a total mess.

“Huh?” he grunts.

“Hey, uh we're looking to get an exhaust for my 19-”

“Pas anglais, non non non” the dogs mumbles, cutting Lucy off.

“That's OK!” Mark states, taking over the conversation in French, the dogs ears perking up. “We're looking for an exhaust for our van, over there.”

“Oooh, that's yours eh?” he replies in French as he steps out, walking with a slight limp, clutching his leg. “I like, I like. Nice! It's like uhh... A-Team!” The old dogs face contorts in to a toothy grin, splayed hands atop of his head mimicking a mohawk, the pair sharing a chuckle. Meanwhile Lucy just stares on, totally bewildered and removed from the conservation by the language barrier.

“Yeah! Same model and year I'm pretty sure, just needs the paintjob and spoiler! You think you got an exhaust for it?”

“Hummm. I think I got one of these in here somewhere. I get so much out of Montreal these days. Try the south west side, is where I try to put vans and pickups.” he mumbles, point off in the distance. “If you get one, uhh... Say 75. Just knock on my door.”

“Sounds like a deal!” The scruffy old dog waves and wondering back to his trailer.

“Wait, you speak French? What'd he say?” Lucy questions as he begins to lead them across the yard, the dirt lot littered with chunks of various auto debris.

“Oh yeah, we just talked about where to get the exhaust and how much. $75 seemed fair.”

“OK but – but you don't have an accent or anything!”

“I'm from the south shore of 'Scotia originally, everything down there is French. Parents taught me both and I took highschool in both languages too.

“That's pretty cool! We had French classes in highschool but, I mean... None of us really cared about it, teacher just pity passed us all so we could graduate.” The both have a short laugh, only stopping once Lucy spots her mark.

“Oh, here here! This one!” she yells, running over to a van that looked just like hers, except it's all white. It'd already been picked for a door and it's wheels, the hoods open too so there's probably more than that. “Quit your lookin' and go get my jack!”

For the next few hours Lucy leads Mark around on what to do as they work at the vans exhaust. It's hard work getting the old one off of the donor van, the pair hauling it over their shoulders to where they parked once it's finally been pulled out. By the time it's installed and money has changed hands the sun has dropped from the top of the sky, no longer making them sweat as much. With a anxious look on Lucys face he starts van, expression in to a massive fanged grin as it purrs to life, far quieter than before.

“Come on, get in!” he hollers, waving over at her.

“Hey it's my van, I'm driving!” She grabs his arm and gives it a prompt tug, the human nearly falling out.

“C'mon you've drove all yesterday and today, let me give you a break! Plus, I actually know where we're going!”

“Fiiine!” she relents, circling around and clambering in, crossing her arms once her seatbelt is on. “Where we going anyway?”

“Montreal, should be able to get there before midnight, I wanna get you poutine there. You haven't lived till you tried the real stuff.”

“Great - and a shower! Please!”

“Yeah, and a shower!” They'd been working for hours in the hot sun, not to mention what they did last night. They both reeked of sweat, sex and cigarettes - not to mention how much of her fur had gotten all over his clothes. More reason to crack the window as they pull out of the junkyard, following the gravel road back from whence they came.

“How about we get a hotel for the night? That way we can get a shower and have a bed for the night.” The gravel road turns to asphalt as they pull in to a village, the pair blowing past it without a second thought.

“Please! Yes yes! God I wish I had time to put a mattress in this thing...” she laments, leaning on the window and looking out at the countryside as they pull on the highway. “I can't believe I'm really doing it, getting out of town! I mean... I always dreamed about this moment, but it just doesn't feel real.”

“We'll have some fun, see some sights, and get you home alright?” He rests a hand on her leg, glancing over at her for a moment. “Lot of stuff on the way to Toronto. You'll have some stories for your old man.”

“Don't remind me of him, he's been messaging me all day. Missed calls, texts asking where I am, just... Eugh! I told him the first time where I was when he texted but that didn't go well.” She puts her palm on his, still gazing at the world flying by. “I'm worried what'll happen when I get back.”

“You'll be fine.” His tone conveyed no certainty and no guarantees, they both knew it was a empty nicety. He didn't have a good answer for her, all he could do is be there for her as a knowing silence falls over them. They pass trees, trees and more trees, and even occasionally a sign or exit for some village or town.

“Is the city, you know... Dangerous? News always has a story of something happening.”

“What? No! I mean, you'll wanna lock your doors, 'bout it.” He reaches his free hand behind her ear, giving her a gentle scratch. “Seriously, don't worry. I'm here for you.” They share a quick smile, Mark only looking away from the road for a moment.

The highway is dotted with signs and markers, Lucy picking up a few words as she asks him to translate them. They didn't listen to the radio for long, the only English station is a weather station and that got old pretty quick. Every now and then Lucys phone bursts in to life as her father calls him, earning a concerned look from Mark.

“We can turn around if you w-”

“No! We're not turning around!” she snarls back at him, flipping her device open and closed to drop the call.

“Can you silence it then? He's been calling every 10 minutes for the past hour.” She shakes her head, about to open her mouth when the phone rings yet again. Frustrated, she throws it in to the back of the van, battery clattering out of the device. They share a brief smile, before he turned his attention back to the road.

It's a long and dull drive, an infinite expanse of farmland and forests dotted with the odd village or town, the signs glowing in the headlights as the sun begins to dip. They talked about anything and everything; cars and bikes, what they wanted to do in the city, and of course family life.

“He means the best, it's just- I'm all he's got.” she mumbles, face smushed against the window, getting weary from the drive. “It's just been me and him for as long as I can remember. I hope him and the shop will be alright while I'm gone...”

“We'll be away a few days, I'm sure he'll be just fine. Besides, I-” a loud siren behind them cuts him off, red and light strobing lights illuminating the mirrors. They both look at each other for answers, but neither of them have one. He slowly pulls over on to the gravel shoulder, a deafening silence falling upon them, sweat dripping down his head, Lucy chewing on her lip.

“I think my plates, expired, sorry – I'll explain to them it's my fault an-”

“Sortez de la voiture avec vos mains en l'air!” blares over the squad cars loud speaker, Lucy having no idea how to react.

“Get out of the car, hands up, quick!” he translates for her, her expression sinking even lower. He pushes his door open and exits hands first, looking back to see the shillote of two officers taking cover between the doors of the cruiser, pistols drawn. One of them keeps his weapon trained on him as the other advances towards him, a tall french terrier, a firm grip pushing him in to the side of the van, wrenching his arms down and cuffing him.

“You're under arrest for the kidnapping of Lucy Brown, you have the right to free and immediete legal advice from duty counsel. Do you understand?” the gruff canine rattles off in French, clearly having repeated this script many times.

“Wait, what?! I didn't- she wanted to come with me! I-” he's silenced as he's hauled away from the van towards the squad car, looking back to see the other officer talking to Lucy, they catch eachothers eyes for just a moment. She tries to run over to him, but the officer stops her.

“Do you understand what I've just told you?” the canine repeats, holding him with one hand and opening the back of the squad car.

“I understand what you're saying, but-” he doesn't let him finish, pushing him in to the back of the car and slamming the door shut. All he can do is try and get comfrotable, not that it's possible while cuffed, and watch as the two officers talk to Lucy. She keeps trying to get by them, but they stop her each time. It drags on for minutes that felt for hours, until they let her open the back of the van and retrieve her phone, reinserting the battery and making a call. He knows who she's calling, watching her recoil from just how loud her father is yelling on the phone. It's long and tearful, the device being handed from her and the french terrier multiple times, followed up by ashort conversation with the officers afterwards. It must've been an hour at least.

“You're free to go” the arresting officer states gruffly, pulling Mark from the car and taking his cuffs off. “Next time, tell the girls dad where you're going.” The dissapointment is clear in his voice, eyes piercing down at him.

“I will” is all he can manage to say, rubbing his wrists, passing by the other officer to talk to Lucy. She's half sitting on the bumper of the van, holding her head in her hands, trying to hide her tears.

“I'm sorry, I – I didn't think... I didn't think this'd happen” she grumbles between sniffles and gasps for air, Mark joining her on the bump and placing a arm aroun her, Lucy leaning in to him. He didn't know what to say, he wracked his brain for the magical combination of words that'd alleviate all of this stress, humiliation and embarrassment. Time dragged on, the cruiser pulling away, yet he couldn't find them.

“I'm going back. I already told him I would. Just... Just take your bike and go on without me.” Her words hit him right in the gut, her head finally raising up to look in to his eyes.

“Will I ever see you again?” he blurts out with no delay.

“I hope so.” for the first time she smiles, mark slowly leaning in for a kiss, Lucy practically forcing herself on to him. “Promise me you'll keep in touch. You've got my number.”

“I promise, I'll call you as much as my phone plan allows.” Her crying is interuppted with a gutteral, snorting laughter, he's just happy to see her laugh again.

“And get a better plan!” With smiles on their faces they drag his bike out of the van, sharing a tight, longing hug in the dark for what felt like the last time. “We should get going.”

“Yeah.” he mumbles in to her shoulder, finally releasing her from the hug. Words couldn't express how he truly felt, this brief, magical connection he felt with her. He didn't want to let it go, and he knew she felt the same way. Regardless, their excursion had come to an end, Mark suiting up and mounting his bike and Lucy getting back in the van. He rides up to the window to get one last word in, Lucy winding the window down.

“Text when you're back, so I know you're safe.” he calls out to her, the hyena nodding.

“I will.” And with that he waves, riding off down the highway, looking in the mirror to see the van do a U-turn, red tail lights slowly disappearing over the horizon.