Roads
This story contains adult themes and images of homosexuality. If that isnt your thing, then your really missing out, but please leave this page.
Roads
Chapter 1
The Car
For some reason I had a crazy uncontrollable urge to lick it. The car I mean. It sat there, cooling in the driveway. A lot of furs know the sound, after a car has been on a long journey, and at the end of the day when the journey is done; it seems to relax, ticking and easing contently. I placed my paw on top of the bonnet and felt faint heat radiating through the metal. It was a pleasant sensation that warmed my pads in the crisp late evening air. For a summer night in late June I could feel a slight chill brushing against my fur, I enjoyed the sensation as I dug the soles of my feet into the gravel of the drive, passing time on my deserted street in front of the car. Walking beside it, I traced my finger along the curves of the bodywork toward the driver's door enjoying the smoothness of the paintwork. There was something very sensual about the car, and touching it was almost addictive. I know that sounds pretty nuts but something about that car was special. Tired of the cold, I grabbed the polished door handle and pulled it open with a clunk. The door was heavier than I was expecting and it served as a reminder that at sixteen I still had a lot of growing to do. Jumping behind the steering wheel I quickly slammed the door, encasing myself in the quietness of the car. Tick, tick, tick...I listened as the vehicle eased to my presence. I'd gotten my licence a few months back but that meant jack all with regard to this beast. I most definitely had to settle for sitting behind the large steering wheel, on a safe driveway, no keys in the ignition, because there was no way I'd be getting any further for a long time.
It had taken Dad years to track down this model, he had dreamed of owning it since he was twelve. The car was a rare 1969 Pontiac G.T.O, one that had been popular in detective films in the 1970's. Yer, way back in the day right? I know this because it's a constant dinnertime conversation. 'How was work today Dad? Fine fine.... found some original alloys on the web for the Pontiac. That isn't exactly your job Dad... ' 'What's for dinner later Mum? It'll be steak tonight, your Dad apparently found a pristine model in Kentucky and he wants to celebrate.' It was pretty crazy; the car had practically ruled his life for a while now. I didn't judge or get jealous that he was so preoccupied in finding it. I had my own stuff to do and was not the whiny type who wants constant attention. Can't stand those pups, you know the ones who lean on their parents for everything and can't seem to function without constant attention. Get some damn independence is what I say. Anyway, sat there alone in the dark with my tail wrapped around me, I sighed and relaxed my shoulders, slouching into the seat. The whole street lay ahead of me, illuminated in a warm orange glow from the overly fancy streetlights. Our house sat at the very end of the cul de sac, a little community of carbon copy houses containing happy little families. All picket fences and shiny cars, kinda pathetic. I sat up and grabbed the rear-view mirror to look at myself. My reflection didn't feel like it showed the real me, the dark black nose and strangely large ears, piercings and all. I was a pretty strange looking otter, and I liked that, was why I had the piercings, felt good to be different. The one original ailment I liked about myself were my eyes. They contained three colours and numerous imperfections. I know everyone's eyes are unique, but mine felt really different. Just like me. For some reason I always-wanted more though. I brushed my paw through my cropped hair liking the feeling and grinned a cheesy grin at myself...looking completely ridiculous in the process. I sighed and looked away back at the street. I was something different than the kid looking back at me.
After a few more minutes of quiet contemplation, I'd become quite content sat alone in the car, nobody around to bother me. I was positioned behind the steering wheel, relaxing in the comfortable leather seats, when a light from the porch hit my face. It was Dad coming down the driveway, swinging his long tail behind him and throwing the car keys from paw to paw. He looked pretty deep in concentration, the creases in his forehead a little starker than usual. I wasn't supposed to be out there so late; I had told them I was upstairs doing homework before bed. Sneaking out to look at the car seems pretty tame, but recently I had taken a liking to roaming the quiet streets in the late night air, alone with my thoughts.
"Oh shit!' I said aloud to myself, if he caught me now, he might keep a closer eye on me in future.
Last thing I needed was both of them on my back all the time. Instinctively I threw myself backward over the front seat, landing pretty much on my head in the back of the car. I crawled into the space between the front and back seats and held my breath. Luckily, the car was so old it didn't have those lights that fill the whole bloody interior when you open the door. The only one was positioned between the driver and the passenger, so I remained in relative shadow when Dad jumped in behind the drivers seat. He stuck the keys in the ignition and fired up the engine with a roar.
'FUCK!!!' I screamed inside my head. This might not turn out well. I had two choices, either fess up now and reveal myself in the back of the car, effectively scaring the crap outta Dad and probably grounding myself for a long time. Or...I could try and avoid all that stuff by keeping as quiet as possible here in the back, ride out our little trip and sneak back into my room through the window later, praying Mum hadn't discovered my absence and reported my missing to the whole damn San Diego police force. I chose the second option quite simply because I didn't have the balls to get up and show Dad I had been hiding. He was driving pretty fast along the winding mountain roads that surrounded our house, and last thing I wanted was to cause him to crash his most prized possession, possibly killing us in the process.
I'd been laid in the back for a few minutes, trying desperately to keep my breathing steady and quiet, paranoid that any minute Dad would rumble me, when the speaker right next to my head blared with static. Stifling a surprised yelp, I very nearly gave the game away, but I controlled myself and breathed deeply whilst the static morphed into music and my heart slammed itself against my ribs. The song playing started so suddenly, and I instantly recognised it as 'Twist and Shout' by The Beatles. Dad was into his classics and I had been bought up on the likes of The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Creedence Clearwater Revival....the list goes on. Dad had this song on vinyl and played it when him and Mum were feeling upbeat and happy. Usually pretty sloppy stuff that I avoided, but it sounded so melodic and comforting in the back of the car I couldn't help but crack a little smile listening. I was mouthing the words when all of a sudden on the second chorus Dad starts singing. I'm not talking mumbling along with the lyrics kinda singing; I'm talking belting as loud as he could kinda singing. It was hilarious hearing him wailing "WELL SHAKE IT UP BABY NOW!!" with all his might, but it stuck me as odd, I'd never seen him act so over the top, he was usually so reserved at home.
The car came to abrupt stop to the sound of spraying gravel and I was forced deeper into the crevice between the seats. The radio was turned down to the level where conversation could occur and the passenger door suddenly opened, confirmed not only by the cool air hitting me in the face but also the light flicking on above my Fathers head. The door was closed quietly as the new member of the Pontiac crew sat next to my Dad in the front seat. A male voice rose above the music.
"Hey", I only just heard the simple greeting.
His voice was smooth and husky, it reminded me of a famous movie star, but I forgot his name. He usually played the villains in the story, very powerful and dominating....somehow I felt that the man sat next to my father processed the same 'qualities', but there was also some softness to his voice. I couldn't get it out of my head that there was something familiar about that voice, something other than the movie-star-likeness. What was my Dad doing here? All sorts of thoughts rushed through my head, but I blotted them out. It must be a business meeting, Dad had all sorts of client's, and he must just be finishing up a deal. Laid down in the back of the car, I prayed it wouldn't take too much time, the more time I was away from the house the more likely there would be a search squad waiting when I returned. I was beginning to sort of hate my Dad for this strange trip he was taking. All I had wanted was some alone time in the car, and it had turned into this goddamn charade.
"How you doing?" my Dad responded sounding genuinely interested, "any problems getting away from the house?"
"No problem at all" came the reply. It was blunt but somehow seemed to be laced with deeper meaning. I dunno, its delivery just seemed to imply so much more. The smell of the pines around my home, up here in the mountains, had started to give way to a muskiness...I figured the man must be a canine. Nothing unusual in that, most of my friends were canines, they are such a common species, but I couldn't think of any friends of the family this mystery guy might be. My parents didn't have many friends...especially my Dad since all he thought about was the car. Maybe he had made one without anyone's knowledge, a fellow car enthusiast perhaps. Yer that would make sense, maybe they just liked going for drives on the quiet roads at night, Dad was going pretty fast, I could see the thrill of it. I shook my head and ducked down further into the darkness. Thank god the radio was still on and The Beatles were still belting out the lyrics "Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now." otherwise I'd be blue in the face by now from holding my breath in silence.
Not long after starting off again, the car came to another abrupt halt, burying my face in the front seat. I was starting to get pissed off with this, what the hell was he playing at being out late in the middle of nowhere anyway? I assumed it was the middle of nowhere. All I could see from my viewpoint was the canopy of the trees under which we had been driving at speed, and there weren't any streetlights, so we must still be up in the mountains behind the city. The thing is, Dad's work was placed smack bang in the centre of the city. He banged the car into park.
"I never get sick of this view," he said in a relaxed manner that for some reason sorta disturbed me. His companion just murred and opened the car door. Again the cool night air hit me in the face kinda sharpening my thoughts. Seriously what the hell was he doing? My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, about to look down into the nothingness and darkness. He opened the driver door, stepped out and slammed it behind him. I finally let myself breath normally and shuffled a little to let blood get into my arms again, I'd developed some killer pins and needles. I lay there in the quiet atmosphere of the car. Tick, tick, tick. It cooled and eased around me. I didn't really know what to do, it was a completely pitch black view through the back windows. I knew that if I sat up and peered over the front seat there was little chance I'd be seen. 'Fuck it' I thought, I deserved to know what the hell was going on. He had dragged me all the way out here against my own will, although he didn't know that to be fair. Still, I wanted to find out. I wanted that so bad.
Lifting my head as slowly as possible, I perched myself up on my elbows and slid up the backseat. Dad had left the keys in the ignition, the engine wasn't running but the radio and headlights remained on. The Beatles had given way to a song I didn't recognise; the lyrics began 'A Hot summer night, fell like a net...I've gotta find my baby yet'', it sounded very eighties. It was catchy and I thought I had heard it somewhere before but couldn't recall when or where, probably a film somewhere. Anyway there I was, crouched in the backseat of a car, listening to some singer probably fat and old by now, maybe even dead, staring out the windscreen.
It was a sight.
In front of me lay the whole goddamn city of San Diego laid out like some sorta miniature model. The streets and skyscrapers and the fucking pizza delivery cars all below me glistening and moving like some living entity. I could see it all from where I was, but my attention was drawn to something else. Following the headlights of the car, I could see two silhouettes framed in the night sky. One was my father, the other I assumed to be the man he had picked up in the car. I wish the little voice at the back of my head had been wrong. I wish things had been innocent, and then maybe nothing would have changed. It was nothing to do with work. They had their arms around each other. They embraced. My mind seemed to pop. I couldn't understand what I was seeing. I couldn't think! A screaming seemed to erupt...'What the FUCK is going on!?' it shouted, ringing and ringing around my mind. 'WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE DOING?'
I couldn't do anything. My blood had become ice flowing around my body, freezing my limbs. All I could seem to focus on was that damn song playing on the radio, that stupid eighties melodic son of a bitch crap.
"Doctor, doctor give me the news
I've got a bad case of lovin' you
No pill's gonna cure my ill
I've got a bad case of lovin' you"
I seemed to move without thinking about it. I needed to get out of there. Before I knew what I was doing I was back where I started. Back behind the wheel of the car. I wanted it to be how it was the last time I sat there. In the comfortable quiet of the driveway before I had seen the horrifying scene in front of me. Before I'd had that goddamn mental image burned into the back of my head. The image that was still going on. I didn't want to look at it anymore, but I couldn't help it. I had to get away. My hand felt for the keys in the ignition. I turned them and the engine roared. I couldn't take my eyes of the two figured in front of me. I wanted to but I couldn't. They heard the car and turned in surprise. I stared right into my Dad's eyes. They were wide and whiter than any eyes I had ever seen before. I was in darkness behind the wheel, but I knew, I knew in my gut that he realised it was me. I could see it. As quick as I could I shoved the car into reverse and floored the throttle. I had no clue where we were. I really didn't care. I couldn't take my eyes of Dad, he was running toward the car shouting something but I didn't hear him over the noise of the engine. I was crying at that point. I hate crying, I never did it, but I really couldn't help it; I was so overrun with emotions. In the rear-view mirror I could see the road flying toward me. He must have pulled off onto some viewing platform. For a second I wondered how many times he had been up here. How many times had he done this before? I span the wheel and faced the car toward the mountains. I had to get away. I hit the brake and came to a stop, the headlights beaming down an empty road. My breathing was heavy and my heart was beating like crazy. I looked in the mirror one last time. Dad was running behind the car still shouting, washed in the red glow of the cars brake lights. I could still see the canine behind him; he was holding his head in his hands. I looked away, hit the throttle as hard as I could, and with a screech of the tires, drove off into the night. Dad fell into darkness and disappeared. I left it behind......
Look out for the next chapter of this story, coming soon.