FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I sat in the leather chair that uncomfortably hit my back directly under my shoulder blades. My nervous fingers ran along the buttons of my hastily purchased suit. My eyes wandered around the dark office decorated in deep wood tones and heavy drapes. It was like the house I grew up in. A large desk sat in front of me with a lamp and a solid looking black paperweight. It was quiet.

Beside me sat a doe, just a few years younger than me. I imagine she had similar thoughts on the office's likenesses to our childhood home, but I barely even recognized my sister anymore and our conversation had been strained and brief.

The sharp clicking of my finger snapping my button was the only sound in the room. My head was both filled with thoughts, and empty to the ability to process anything. My eyes studied a granite sculpture being used to prop of a row of books to my left. It looked like a shell. It was ugly.

"Good evening, Mr. Helm, and Ms. Helm, I apologize for the wait," a short male lynx in an overstuffed suit said, startling us as he rushed through the door, moving quickly behind the desk, taking a seat, and smoothing out his tie. He tapped the stack of papers in his paws on the desk, laid them neatly in front of himself, crossed his fingers together and finally looked up at us, giving us calculated, even time before returning his gaze to the paper work. "I'd first like to send my condolences on the loss of your father. I knew him in college, he was a good man."

My sister shifted her legs awkwardly and adjusted herself in the chair. I could tell she was trying to read the paper under the lynx's paws.

The lynx looked back up at us with the same calculated, even timing. "Normally, in an instance such as this, the spouse of the deceased would inherit everything, but from my understanding, Joan Helm was last contacted over four years ago. Her current location, or even if she is survived by her husband, your father, is unknown. It appears that a divorce was never filed for, but the evidence of the separation, on top of our firms exhausted search for her coming up with nothing, is enough to leave all assets to the next in line, the deceased's children. Upon searching through your fathers documents, we did find a will draft that had not been notarized, written some time ago that started in the event of his death, everything was to be split evenly between his two children, only it appears that your name, Darrick, had been removed through the entire document. I have a copy of it here, if you'd like to see," the lynx said, thumbing through the pile.

"No, I'm fine," I said, my mouth feeling dry.

The lynx looked up then back down at the pile. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you feel about it, an un-notarized document covered in white-out does not carry very strong legal standing. With no legal will, no known spouse, and two young adult children, it was obvious to this firm to award your father's assets evenly between you."

The same calculated, even glance fell to both of us, before he handed us each a sheet of paper.

"Here is a list of what each of you will receive."

"$5,632.34?"Maggie yelled. "That's it?"

"Well, yes, Margret. But, you will see that you did inherit the apartment, and Darrick, you received his car. They are roughly the same economic value. Other trinkets and worldly possessions can be split amongst yourselves, but the larger items are listed here."

"How the hell are we supposed to afford the funeral?" Maggie yelled, her thumb creasing the edge of the paper.

"That, unfortunately is not covered in the legal reach of this firm. From my understanding, your father did not have life insurance, so the cost would likely come from you two."

"Burry the cheap fuck in a cardboard box," Maggie said, throwing the paper back at the lynx and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The lynx neatly unfolded the crease and tucked the paper back into the pile, jotting down a quick note on another paper that he quickly tucked away as well. His eyes looked up at me.

"Thank you," I said, standing up. I handed the paper to the lynx, who told me it was mine to keep.

I closed the door behind me. Maggie was nowhere to be seen.

Over the next few days, the phone number the firm had given me of hers never picked up. I found an inexpensive funeral home who was willing to cut me a deal on the entire process for $6000. It was all that I had in my account after the inheritance.

The wake and funeral were attended by only a few people who were willing to drive, which did not include my sister. Only a few memories of a dry coffee cake and watching the casket disappear into the earth haunted my memory after. I had too many other things on my mind.

I sold his car, and went back to my small, temporary apartment of almost six months. In the dingy yellow glow of the lightbulb, in the humid summer night heat, I canceled all of my classes for the upcoming semester, and began searching for any cheap schools still taking applications. I wanted to cry, but there was nothing left in me. I hadn't shed a single tear since I got the call. I hadn't felt sad. I hadn't felt anything. I just felt like I was floating in a dream that wouldn't seem to end. I just wanted it to end.

A few weeks later, I got a thick packet of information with my acceptance letter to a state school not too far away, and I began packing up my life, once again, to head into the great unknown.