To Touch The Sky Chapter 2: Breaking Point
#2 of To Touch The Sky
Matthew beamed when Cathrine suggested lunch. He glanced down at his watch, the time was 1:36 P.M.
"I'll see you there. If I catch the next bus I can get there by two. Bye Cat. I love you too. Bye."
He closed the phone, then looked up at the bus stop sign, quickly finding the number and dialing it in. A female voice answered, dull and morose; he quickly decided she deserved some antidepressants.
"Hello, this is the regional transportation district," She yawned, "how may I help you on this...wonderful day..." she drifted off, waiting for a reply, but not really wanting one. Matthew ignored her attitude and used his most authoritative voice.
"Yes, I would like to know when the next east-bound bus leaves from the intersection at 17th and Cecil."
He could hear the tap of a keyboard in the background.
"The next east-bound bus leaves 17th and Cecil at 1:37, sir, but it seems it's a little late, and may be a few minutes..."She stated in a droll tone
"Thank you, that will be all!" He said hurriedly, anxiously wondering if he already missed the bus during the call.
She responded automatically, "Have a nice d---"He cut her off as he snapped his phone shut and headed towards the intersection. There was a badger standing on one side of the intersection talking to a---what the hell was that thing? He quickly remembered hearing about the insectoid foreigners...he had never seen one before...no wonder they stayed out of this country; they were monstrous.
The insect hopped out into the street...a sickening crack...then the bus left his line of sight, and was followed by the telltale sounds of a crash. It had been speeding up to make the light and had no warning...
He ran around the corner, closely following the badger. It was not a pretty scene; the front end of the bus was pushed partway into the back end. The middle doors were crunched together, only visible through the empty window frames. There was a collie whose head was rammed into the twisted edge of the bus in front of him, blood dripping down onto his brown suit and matting down the fur around his lifeless eyes. The other passengers were safe, sitting farther back in the bus.
The carnage wouldn't have been nearly as bad, but the bus was constructed from two parts, one connected to the other with a joint in between them to allow maneuverability through the small city streets. The impact of the bus into...holy shit, it was a Mustang...had forced the back half to slam forward into the front half, breaking the two apart...killing the unfortunate canine that had been seated at the front of the back half.
The driver was trying to get out of his seat; the car had pushed up the floor at the driver's feet and broken his right leg.
The Mustang was in much worse condition. The trunk was now somewhere that had once been the back seats, and the convertible roof had broken free and was hanging listlessly off to the side. Through a gap in the wreck there appeared to be a decapitated penguin bobble-head doll, his tuxedo coat bright among the rusty reds and burnished blacks.
A crowd was gathering, looking on with expressions of interest and horror on their faces. Matthew hated people like that, drawn to tragedy like flies to a carcass, they were the worst parasites there were in Matthews's opinion, feeding off of misfortune...
He looked up at the back of the bus and read the number twenty-three that still showed illuminated on the video screen.
"Shit!" he said to himself. It was the bus he was supposed to get on. He massaged the bridge of his muzzle trying to think of what to do next. He looked up again, and took a glance around, cars were still going by, some honking at the crashed bus like there was something the driver could do to move it. He looked over along the sidewalk; there were two wolves standing there, one of them crying into the others shoulder. Neither of them could have been older than twenty...poor guys.
Soon the paramedics arrived; Matthew knew that there had been no hope for the insect since the impact, but they still tried in vain, then gave the bad news to the wolf who was now too far into shock to cry. The badger from before hugged the wolf gently, comforting him. Matthew knew that the wolf wouldn't be able to last much longer. He walked up to the three friends, trying to find out how to say what he wanted to.
"Ummm...I'm...I'm sorry about your friend there." He said, feeling more foolish every second. The badger looked over, an odd look in his eyes, distant, yet oddly focused, it unnerved Matthew; like the badger knew exactly what he was thinking...did he? The badger looked over at the larger wolf and nodded, then walked over to Matthew.
"I'm Richie," He said simply, offering a paw, staring Matthew in the eye all the while.
Matthew cautiously reached out his paw and took Richie's shaking it lightly, then slowly withdrew. There was an odd silence, Matthew forgot why he had come over, and the fact that Richie kept giving him that unnerving look didn't help. Richie raised a questioning eyebrow.
"May I help you?" was the curt request. The blunt statement tore Matthew out of his daze. He shook his head to clear it of its muddled state. What he had come over for was sounding less and less like a good idea, and if he didn't say it now, he would talk himself out of it.
" I...your friend...and..." he broke off, trying to organize his thoughts. Then said exactly what he was offering. "I just didn't think your friend looked too great and wondered if there was anything you needed...my house is five minutes to the south, you could take him there..."
Richie's gaze withdrew a little, not so focused on Matthew anymore, he was thinking.
"I think that would be best..." he said, focusing once again on Matthew.
Matthew scratched the back of his neck in confusion. "W-wait...what now?...what would be best?"
Richie's eyes never faltered. "We'll take Nathan to your house. He needs somewhere to lie down."
Matthew was about to protest, he hadn't been serious about taking them to his house, it had just...slipped out...but Richie's eyes; there was no arguing with those eyes. He fumbled hopelessly for an excuse.
"I...I don't have a car!" He said finally.
"That's fine. We do"
Matthew's jaw dropped open, he wanted to say something, anything, but just couldn't find the words. His mind raced for a few more frantic seconds, then he caved in, giving up on getting out of it.
"Hey, Jay," Richie said over his shoulder to the larger wolf, "take Nathan to my car, it's parked a block that way," he pointed down the southern road while digging in his pockets for the keys with his other paw, "We'll be right behind you." He tossed the keys over to Jaysen, who caught them and then started off with Nathan, supporting the pathetic looking wolf with a willing arm.
What a day this was turning out to be...
Matthew paused for a second at the door, considering turning them away...but no, he -had- in fact offered, and if he was anything, he was a wolf of his word. He pushed the key in firmly, the lock clicked once as the deadbolt slid out, then he pushed the door open, letting it glide inward on its well maintained hinges. His condo wasn't too large; there were two floors, one of which was just a bedroom, and the other, while not much larger, held a bathroom and a kitchen/living room.
Matthew took them straight through the entrance hallway, passing the staircase, and into the kitchen/living room. He pulled the cushions off of the couch and pulled out the hideaway bed, already fitted with sheets in case of...unexpected visitors. Richie and Jaysen paid little attention to Matthew's activities, too preoccupied with Nathan to care, he was sagging in their arms and staring blearily off at an unusual whorl in the hardwood floor.
"He can lay down here and rest a bit." Matthew said, done with arranging the furniture.
Richie and Jay nodded absent mindedly. Nathan was led over, herded like sheep to the bedside, then pulled down onto the mattress and left, dry eyed and shaken. He was in shock now, having no more tears to shed, he had drifted off into his mind, trying to escape the pain. He would wake up in a few hours, and that's when he would need Richie and Jaysen, but for now, he needed sleep.
After Nathan was safely asleep, Jaysen took the liberty of exploring the small condo while Richie talked with Matthew. In the entrance hall there was a coat closet direction to the right of the door, it would be hidden completely if the door was open, Jay considered looking inside, but he decided against that notion.
"So you've all known each other for how many years," Came Matthews voice, drifting in over Jay's thoughts.
"I'd say about two years, maybe a little less." Came Richies formal reply.
Past the closet there was a staircase that led up to the bedroom portion of the condo. Direction across the entrance hall from the staircase was the bathroom, fairly small, well kept, but it was more than enough for just one furson.
"Oh, so they were boyfriends?" yipped Matthew, somewhat startled by the revelation.
"Yes. Yes they were." Was the simple response
The entrance hall opened into the living area. Directly to the left along the side wall was a long black countertop made from some stone or other, possibly granite, that served as the kitchen, with a built in stove, sink, and refrigerator. Farther along the side wall was a desk on which was Matthews laptop, plugged into the phone jack for internet. Across from that wall was the couch and hideaway bed, on which was the sorry looking wolf who twitched convulsively to the whims of some nightmare.
Jay walked over to the window that was between the living area and the kitchen, directly across from the entrance hall. He looked out the window at the street below, watching cars pass by, their colors blurring together in his eyes. The window stretched high above him, the ceiling being two floors high above the living/kitchen area so that there could be a balcony area from the bedroom.
He returned to coherent thoughts just in time to hear the end of Richie's narrative of the last few years. Apparently at some point they had gotten drinks from the fridge; Jay wasn't thirsty. He grabbed the chair from the desk and pulled it up to their little triangle. Richie was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Matthew was leaning against the wall. All that was left now was to waste time and wait for Nathan to wake up;
So they talked...
Nathan stirred in the bed, arms thrashing and flailing out at invisible nightmares, sweat dripping from his body, clutching the sheets to him. Richie watched on with Jay while Matthew busied himself elsewhere, trying not to look at the wolf and his pitiful state.
Nathan's eyes flickered constantly, terrors assaulting him even in his sleep, with a jolt his eyes shot open and he gasped out, a cry of fear choking off in his throat. He looked down at the soaked sheets wondering how they had gotten there and when he had fallen asleep. He looked up at Richie and Jaysen, both of them watching his every move. Why were they so--- in a flash the past few hours came rushing back to him, the image of Narren flashed through his mind, the bus.... He sat, petrified on the bed, unable to move, or speak, tears began to well up in his eyes. The salty liquid spilling over his eyelids broke the spell and he began weeping freely. Richie rushed to his side, attempting to comfort him while Jaysen remained rooted where he was, unsure of what, if anything, he could do to help.
"He's gone!" Nathan cried out into Richie's shoulder, being held close by the kind Badger, soaking his shirt with tears. "He...he can't be gone..." His voice was coarse, screeching between his clenched teeth, tumbling over itself as his words slurred together into incoherent sobs.
"I know Nathan. I know..." Richie cooed, gently stroking the wolf, his voice soothing. "I'm here for ya. Jay and I will take care of everything. Don't you worry, it's okay."
Matthew examined a mug for cracks, running his paw over the same place for the fifth time in a row as Nathan cried just behind him. Why were they in his condo? What had he been thinking? He remembered Richie's eyes...something about that badger scared him.
Jaysen attempted to help: "We're still here for you Nathan,", but the fresh waves of tears seemed to indicate that he wasn't doing to well...maybe he should have worded that differently...We'll always love you for hi--- wait, that was going in the wrong direction!
"I'll never see him again." Came a fresh torrent of words, forced out into a sentence before sobs wracked his breath again. Nathan's vision swam with spinning lights, flaring spots and fluid shadows, twisting his reality into some grotesque beast, nothing seemed right: not Richie beside him, not Jaysen mere feet away, and certainly not the strange wolf in the background of the unkown room; nothing would ever feel the same until Narren was back in his arms. Nothing would ever be right again.
Slowly he began to feel the weariness from earlier return, his eyes drooped and his tears slowed, in mere minutes he had burned of all that sleep, restless though it was. Soon he was left feeling numb and empty, no longer able to cry, merely able to press his face into Richie's shoulder and dampen his stained cheeks with tears he had already shed. He felt like there was a hole inside of him, he truly had loved Narren, if only for those six months, and he had only told him once...now he would never get another chance.
He lurched to the side as nausea welled up inside him, he tasted what he assumed was bile in the back of his throat and felt his muscles convulse just before his stomach emptied itself of the meager contents it had, coating the hardwood flooring in obscene hues.
Matthew heard the sound of liquid, or something like it, hit the floor, and instinctively knew what it is, suddenly the mug that had been so enrapturing had lost its allure.
"Shit! Get him to the bathroom! Shit. Shit!" He scrambled at the cupboard door, trying to get at the paper towels hidden within, but in his haste it was proving to be more than difficult. Richie had already started moving Nathan, supporting him as they hobbled over to the bathroom. Discolored slobber still clung to the fur around Nathan's muzzle and dripped periodically onto the floor, adding new splotches of brownish-green to the oak,
Richie closed the door after half-dragging his friend in, and sat him down on the toilet, the last thing he had seen before he closed the door was Matthew bent double trying in vain to mop up the vomit with the only easily accessible tool: Kleenex.
He turned back to face Nathan, whose stare was centered around a particular linoleum tile, he gently reached out and lifted Nathan's chin till their eyes met. Richie had always been able to "read" people, at least that's what he called it; to him the eyes were the blueprints of the soul, telling him every detail of a persons heart: Nathan was in shock, that was simple to see, he was going to be in a stupor for a few hours and until then he wouldn't talk.
It was plain that he had truly loved Narren, and as far as Richie could tell, Narren truly loved him back. Nathan was remembering something, his eyes shone emotions like headlights, flashes of happiness and grief. Only six months and now this: Richie couldn't believe how suddenly it had begun, and now it had ended even faster.
Haji smiled as Joni's eyes lit up, the boquette of roses always worked wonders. He'd be getting it good tonight; despite himself he couldn't help but smirk at that thought.
"You are so sweet Haji!," She purred, her feline voice reminiscent of a much younger panther.
"I'm glad you like them Deb---" He caught himself, but it was still to late, Joni's eyes grew wide in sudden recognition, then flared with anger, and a growl came from low in her throat.
"You...you've been seeing someone else, haven't you" Her pitch fluctuated, carried through her chords in odd ways by her mixed emotions; should she be sad, or angry...but both wasn't making this easy.
"I-I..."Haji sputtered and then trailed off, brooding to himself, brow furrowed. This was the third girl he'd lost like this. Why did he always say Debbie, this had never happened until he had met her. What the hell was going on?
He was quickly removed from Joni's apartment, remaining stone-faced and silent the entire time. Joni meant nothing to him, none of his girls did...but why had things changed since Debbie...what was it about her...
Kazoo opened his eyes as a bright light slowly fell over them. He covered his face and sat up gently; finding that the sun had shone through the blinds just right to hit him in the eyes.
He looked over at his master, who was still asleep in the bed, Kazoo of course had slept on the floor. He tried to stand up and yelped unintentionally as his entire body lit up with aches and pains. He sat back down, arms limp as a ragdoll. Master would be angry if Kazoo wasn't back outside before he woke up.
He fell onto his side, trying to ignore the pain; he rolled slowly onto his stomach, wincing as his rib was pressed back into his lung. Finally he lay on his stomach, and slowly he began crawling, grasping at the hardwood floors and pulling himself along slowly...oh so slowly, nails pressing into the grains and pulling up little shavings of wood-finish.
Once he had gotten around the bed and arrived at the door, he grasped the frame, and pulled himself onto his knees, glad to be off the floor, it smelled of Master; Kazoo loathed the smell of his master, grease and rust played across his nostrils with an odd mixture of smoke thrown in. He crawled on, into the living room, every inch as painful as the last, numbing his nerves, forcing him to drift off into his own thoughts. They were simple, but they were -his- and that's all that he cared about. His mind slowly returned as he entered the kitchen, the clack of his nails on the linoleum reminding him what he was doing.
He crept out into the room, shuffling under the table directly towards the door. He yelped as his paw lost purchase on the smooth material and he slid over to his right, jarring the table leg with his shoulder. The old wood groaned as it was struck; it held for just a second before splitting with a sharp crack, sending the tabletop careening down on top of the pathetic fox.
Kazoo barely knew what was happening. He saw the wood splinter, the shadows on the floor as they raced ever closer, and the last thing he thought of was how mad master would be at the ruined furnishings; he wasn't going to like this at all. The tabletop hit him with a dull thud, then all was dark.
The sounds of disturbances came from the back of the house, Master was awake, and he didn't like being awake this early. Kazoo would have hell to pay for that ruckus, he was going to need a very long beating to ensure he knew what he had done wrong. Avery long beating indeed...