FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sobering up always made BJ want a nap. It didn't matter if he'd just had a few beers and a bowl at lunch or a whole case and smoked out the night, whenever the buzz faded, this pit bull was ready to go to bed. That was half the reason he wanted to just drive Marcus to the bus station instead of hitting the highway for an hour and a half. Sure he'd pass a sobriety test but god damn he wanted to lie down.

Speaking of Marcus, the jackalope to his right seemed to be having the opposite experience. As much as BJ was fighting to keep his eyes open, Marcus was barely able to hold still. He was fidgeting in his seat, tapping away on his phone, his attention constantly flitting from one thing to another.

"Mind lettin' a song finish once in a while, bud? Startin' to regret lettin' you control the music," the canine said tiredly. It worked, but he still felt guilty for chiding his friend.

Admittedly, Marcus's focus wasn't able to stay on any one topic long enough for it to bother him. He looked at the designed duffel back on his lap, the changes of clothes in it. He probably could have left it back at BJ's, but somehow felt like it was important to be prepared. Just in case he was invited to stay for the night. That's why he had some charging cables in there as well, along with bathroom supplies and a box of whole grain snack bars in case he got hungry on the way over.

The car's stereo settled into playing full songs rather than skipping ahead after the first few measures, and for a few miles the ride was quiet.

BJ glanced over at his friend. "So uh... nothin' from your mom?" he asked, a touch unsure if he wanted to open that particular can of worms again. "I mean... not your real mom, your other mom. Was thinkin' now might be a good time?"

Marcus turned his attention to his phone once again, looking down at its screen. Even before he said a word, the jackalope's irritation at being asked was painted all over him. The stoic type, Marcus Lewis was not. "I sent her a big text saying I was okay and I'd be home tonight and I'm sorry I just got really upset. Okay?"

Over the years, Brian Thomas Jr. had developed a sixth sense (fifth sense? He wasn't totally deaf...) for when Marcus wasn't being entirely forthcoming. He didn't want to press the issue, but this one seemed a little more important.

"...did she say anything back?"

BJ was greeted with silence from his co-pilot. He waited a few moments, ears perked to the right, holding out for a reply before speaking up again.

"How long ago d-"

"I didn't tell her anything yet, okay??" Marcus burst out. Even with his dulled ears, that was enough to make BJ jump and send the car on a brief swerve. "Come on, the last thing I need right now is to have Mrs. Lewis flipping shit at me. I'll let her know after I meet my mom, okay?"

The dog drummed his thick hands on the steering wheel, blowing a breath out through his lips. Marcus had a point. There was enough going on already, why make it worse? Besides, the kid would probably be in a way better mood afterwards, and that meant the conversation would go a hell of a lot smoother. Who knows, maybe Mrs. Lewis would be glad to know he had reconnected.

"All right, all right," BJ said, conceding defeat. "Heh... you ready for yer first bus ride?"

Marcus let out a dejected raspberry. He clearly still wasn't exactly thrilled to be taking the lion's share of the journey on public transportation. "Oh yeah. Can't wait," he replied in a sulk, putting his seat back as far as possible until he was nearly lying down.

The big canine tried to stop himself, but he let out a quick laugh anyway. As hard as Marcus tried to look all grim and serious, when he got into those moods he always looked more like a little kid angry about having to eat broccoli. "Look, bud, you ain't ridin' on the same bus that's goin' around pickin' people up for work, all right? It's city to city, you ain't gonna be pickin' up randos off the street. Just a straight shot to the station."

That actually did help Marcus feel better about the trip. He knew that his adoptive mother had been exaggerating about the dangers of, as she put it, "the lower class," he still had all these terrible images in his head of sitting next to passed-out junkies, prostitutes, and gangsters just waiting to rob him blind. Of going through all the seedier parts of town and feeling like he had an even bigger target painted on him than normal. For Marcus Lewis, blending in was never much of an option, but he was a lot less worried about losing his antlers than his phone and credit cards.

For the remainder of the short ride, the conversation drifted to less serious topics. The pair chatted about nothing in particular until BJ's fixer-upper of a pickup truck pulled into the parking lot outside the bus station. The engine stayed on, music and air conditioning both making sure that the inside wasn't suffocating with silence.

"Well. We're here."

Marcus looked out the window at the station. It was so... bland. Just a concrete slab of a building with a logo on the front of it.

"C'mon, bud. Time to get movin', the bus leaves in like fifteen minutes."

"I know, I know."

BJ looked over at his friend, seeing him all knotted up in a bundle of nerves. "Look, it's just a quick trip. And if somethin' goes totally sideways, call me. I know I got shit to do, but I can be up there to come bail you out, awright?"

Marcus swallowed. He nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to force all the anxiety out of his chest. It was easy to get amped up back at BJ's house, where they were just talking about it. Marcus had spent a thousand days on that old couch, talking about what he'd totally do if he ever got the chance. Now that it was time to actually do it, he was far less confident.

"...what do I say?"

BJ clapped a big hand on Marcus's shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. "Say hi. After that, just let it come naturally. You been holdin' this in for too damn long, bud, you can't just keep lookin' at that picture and thinkin' about what might be. Worst comes to worst, turns out she don't live there or she's some crazy bitch, least ya got an answer."

Marcus nodded again. He got out of the truck, hopping down to the pavement, and put his bag over his shoulder.

"Hey, BJ?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Thanks for the ride."

The dog chuckled. He did feel a touch guilty that he wasn't chaperoning Marcus the whole way, but told himself it was better if he stayed back. "Yeah well, don't thank me yet. Get movin'. Don't fall asleep and miss yer stop."

Marcus got a little spring in his step. Something about being out of the truck and on his feet got his enthusiasm picking back up. "I don't think I could fall asleep if I wanted to," he said, grinning crookedly, and then gave Penelope a slap on the door before turning and making his way to the bus station.

The inside of the FastTrak bus station was, to Marcus's surprise, much nicer than the flat gray exterior had led him to believe. Clean, fairly spacious, with a small cafe attached to it. The jackalope made his way to the front desk, finding himself looking all around the building like a tourist visiting a landmark before forcing his eyes back down to the tile floor. No need to make himself look as out of place as he felt.

More than anything, Marcus kept glancing at anyone he walked near, though he did his best to hide it. When he wasn't boarded up at Greenwood, he mostly spent his time either lazing around the house or wasting time by going out to high-end shopping centers. Truth be told, Marcus Lewis had never really just bummed around town. He'd never walked somewhere that didn't have him under a watchful eye, whether it was his parents, school officials, or sales clerks. For the first time in his life, no one was paying attention to Marcus Lewis. It was both liberating and a little unnerving.

Okay, that wasn't entirely true. The old tortoise at the front desk gave him a funny look when it came to get his ticket, and once he sat down on the bus there were a few quick glances his way, mostly like they were double checking to see that yes, he did indeed have antlers in between his long ears. Other than that, though, everyone seemed more concerned about themselves than caring about the exotic seated nearby. If anything, the designer clothing made him stick out more than a couple sticks jutting out of his skull.

With his headphones in, Marcus was able to drown out the world around him and just think about what was next. Even better, the seat next to him was empty, letting him stretch out and giving him a spot to put his bag. He watched the city slide by his window, fantasizing about how his reunion was going to go. Would she be so shocked to see him again that she burst into tears right away? Maybe she'd have been waiting for him all these years and he'd find baby pictures in the living room.

Eventually, the teenage hybrid's nerves started to get going again, and his chest was feeling heavy. So he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped away at the screen, looking to find some way to distract himself. Puzzle games weren't helping, and none of his favorite video channels had uploaded recently. The only thing he could think to do was eat one of the bars in his bag. He wasn't terribly hungry, but at least it would keep him occupied.

Just as Marcus was thinking of pulling up the messaging app and taking care of some business he really didn't want to, a small distraction in front of him helped give him an excuse not to.

Looking up from the phone, Marcus saw a young mouse staring back at him, pristine white fur and a big red bow between her ears, standing up on her seat and peering over the back of it at him. She couldn't have been more than five from the looks of it, and her eyes seemed like they were half the size of her head.

Marcus paused the music and pulled one of his earphones out.

"Uh... hi," he said, awkwardly.

"Are you a rabbit?" the small mouse replied, her rounded ears facing front.

Marcus gave a light chuckle, feeling a bit on the spot. "Er... well no, I'm a... I'm a jackrabbit. It's kinda like a rabbit, but it's... I'm a hare, so that's close!" he offered, trying to sound encouraging, like he was proud of her for getting it mostly right.

The mouse's big eyes traveled upwards. "Then how come you got horns?"

Marcus coughed, the bluntness of her question making the bits of his snack bar he was chewing catch in his throat. Little kids never see a problem with just asking whatever is on their minds.

He grunted, taking a breath and adjusting his hat as if it would help obscure the pair that jabbed up through their specialized holes. "Uh... well, they're not really horns, see, they're antlers. And uh... I have 'em cuz..."

Marcus paused, rapidly trying to figure out a way to walk this tightrope. He'd never had any reason to explain his genealogy before, much less to a child. "Okay, so um, you know how your mom and dad are both mice?"

The little girl mouse nodded, leaning forward and listening intently.

Marcus nodded as well. This was good. Easy does it. "Okay, well, my mom was a jackrabbit, but my dad was a pronghorn. Do you know what a pronghorn is?"

This time she shook her head. That was a bit of a stumble, but nothing he couldn't handle. Marcus tapped at his phone screen, trying to pull up a picture quickly.

"Well, it's kinda like a deer, just not quite the same... here, you see what I mean?"

Marcus held his phone out, showing the first picture he found. A stock photo of a sharply dressed antelope in a business suit, the kind that would get stuck in the banner of a company's website to show how diverse and friendly they are.

"Yeah, so, my dad was one of them. And when two different species get together, sometimes, uh... well somet-"

"Excuse me, why are you talking about sex with my daughter??"

The sudden interruption, and the sharpness of the voice that delivered it, froze Marcus right in his tracks. His head snapped to the left, seeing an older mouse turned around in her chair and glaring at him from behind a pair of glasses. She was the spitting image of the young girl, but unlike the little one, she did not look happy.

"Huh? Wh... hold on," Marcus sputtered, trying to remember how words worked, turning the image on his phone towards her to show it wasn't anything explicit. "I wasn't talking about sex! She just asked me about my horns! I mean, antlers, and I w-"

"Oh well if she asked you, then it's okay!" the rodent squeaked indignantly. Marcus tried to sink back into his seat and vanish, but she wasn't about to let him go that easily.

"Sasha, sit down," the mouse huffed, flapping her small hand until the girl obeyed, looking surly about having her story cut short. Then, the woman turned her attention back to Marcus, leaning over her own seat towards him. "I have half a mind to get you kicked off of this bus, and you should be grateful I won't! Just because your kind can't have children doesn't mean you can go around corrupting everyone else's. Now, you do not say another word to my daughter!"

With that, the mouse turned around and dropped down on her chair heavily, punctuating her tirade with it.

Marcus was mortified. A quick look toward the rest of the bus showed a dozen pairs of eyes all pointed directly at him. He tried to offer some kind of vague gesture, a facial expression, to show that he didn't know what she was so upset about, but the damage was done. They'd all heard as much as they cared to. The dirty hybrid was talking filth to a child.

Once again, Marcus Lewis was an outcast.

He hunched down as best as he could, turning away from the rest of the riders to put his focus on the trees going by out the window, He put his headphones back in. He picked an album that was closer to white noise than actual music. He pulled another bar out of his bag, taking aggressive bites from it.

Mercifully, the rest of the ride was uneventful. No one paid any mind to the deviant in designer jeans. Slowly, Marcus was able to relax. That mouse was just a dumb bitch, he thought. He wasn't gonna let her ruin his day. Her daughter was probably gonna grow up to be just as ignorant as her, anyway. Fuck 'em both, and everyone else in the bus for that matter.

By the time the bus pulled into the Amherst station, Marcus had managed to get his mood turned around. Having some food in his stomach and getting just the right album going in his ears (some lo-fi skater punk, of course) got him thinking less about getting hassled by strangers and more about the journey ahead.

Marcus chose to stay seated while the other occupants departed. He didn't really feel like rubbing shoulders with everyone who had been glaring at him a half hour ago, and he definitely didn't feel like getting into any kind of an argument with any of them. All he wanted was for everyone to leave him alone. For the rest of his life, ideally.

Finally, the coast was clear, and so the teen gathered up his belongings. He stuck everything into his duffel bag that he could and stood up to leave... only to stop at the sight of a small, folded piece of paper fluttering its way down to the carpet. He paused, trying to figure out where it might have come from, and realized it must have been tucked under his bag, left behind by someone else.

Marcus winced, slowly unfolding it, and discovered a rather messily written note.

im sorry my mom was mean :(

i like yur antlrs :)

The jackalope rolled his eyes, mostly to try and bat back any mist in them. He laughed, parly at himself for making assumptions. Okay, he thought. Maybe she wasn't gonna grow up quite like her mom. Maybe there was still some hope.

A shout from the driver up front, a rather overweight crane who looked like even his better days weren't better days, reminded Marcus that he should probably get moving, so he quickly folded the note up and stuck it in his pocket. He shuffled his way off the bus, taking a look at his new surroundings. Honestly, Amherst wasn't bad. Not as upscale as Weston, but maybe that was a good thing.

Marcus pulled his phone out, sat on a bench out on the sidewalk in front of the FastTrak station, and got himself an Uber. He was on the home stretch. In no time at all, he'd be meeting his mother.

*********************************

Here he was. Parked outside the house he'd been waiting two years to find.

Marcus stared out the car window at it, unsure if he should be impressed or disappointed. Sure, he knew it was going to be less impressive than the needlessly opulent home he'd grown up in, and on some level had been hoping that was the case, but after the long search, the jackalope had hoped it would be more... dramatic. How exactly, he couldn't say.

Not that the home was at all run down or dilapidated. If anything, it looked like the kind of place you'd see on a postcard or one of those sappy intros in a family film. The front lawn looked to be well taken care of, a large tree on its left side, with a large cement driveway that passed by a colorful garden bed on its way to the two-car garage. Up at the porch, a large swing hung unmoving, a table in front of it. Before he knew it, Marcus was inventing childhood memories of living here. Sprawled on the swing, swaying in the summer air and sipping iced tea, watching the stars. A yard to catch fireflies as he ran through.

All that sat at the face of a wide, two story home, its brick surface and dark black roofing leaving it with a solid, cozy image. Marcus imagined a fireplace inside, those brick walls keeping everyone warm inside even on the coldest winter nights. A big carpet on the floor to keep him warm as he sat, or up on the sofa watching television late at night, cuddled up with...

"Yo! Kid!"

The jackalope snapped out of his reverie, his head turning to the seat beside him.

"Ya gonna get out or did you just wanna look? Not tryin' to be an asshole, but I got other rides t' get."

Marcus patted at his pockets, hunting down his wallet. He really liked these jeans, which was good considering how much they cost, but the deep pockets made it way too easy to lose track of which contained what, and every second that went without him being able to locate that stupid little clip just got him more frazzled. He paused for a moment, suddenly remembering.

"Wait, I can pay in the app, right?"

The lanky bird (Marcus couldn't identify his exact species, maybe an egret?) in the driver's seat laughed. "Ya paid when ya made the ride, buddy. Never gotten an Uber before?"

Marcus winced, and shook his head. Truth be told, Marcus wasn't terribly used to paying for anything on his own. The whole trip had been a learn-as-he-went experience.

Still, he wanted to show some gratitude for the ride, and once he managed to locate what passed for his wallet, Marcus quickly pulled out a ten, handing it over to the driver. "Well, thanks! Sorry I wasn't feelin' chatty."

Looking pleased with the tip, the avian snickered. "No awkward small talk and a good tip? Hell, I wish I had more like you! My name's in the app if ya need a ride later, I'm on for the night."

Marcus retrieved his duffel bag from the back seat, and watched as the SUV drove off, leaving him at the spot where the driveway's cement touched the cul de sac's pavement. He stood at the tiny barrier, his toes just at its edge, with his heart pounding as if he were about to step off the edge of a skyscraper.

"I shoulda dressed better," he thought to himself. Even with the expensive nature of his outfit, Marcus tended to go out of his way to make himself look like his clothing was secondhand, spending extra on jeans with rips in them and hats with frayed brims. Sure, classmates made fun of him, but they were going to do that anyway. To the upper class, he looked like a slob. Meanwhile, the logos and tags made it obvious where he'd actually been shopping.

For once, the teen wished he'd had something nicer. A pair of khakis. A collared shirt. Something to make a better first impression.

Marcus took a deep breath. "Okay, time to nut up, this is why we're here," he said to himself, and started walking up the driveway.

As he traveled along the concrete, the driveway seemed to get longer in front of him. For each step he made, it felt like it grew an extra step and a half. Marcus was breathing more heavily, telling himself it was just because it was hot and he was carrying a bag and this damn thing was on an incline. That was all. The sun was shining, the weather was beautiful, he got a shower before he left so his fur was as bright white as possible. Everything was fine. This would be perfect. Just like he'd imagined it to be.

His mind was wandering so much he nearly collided with the door. Once he located the bell, Marcus gently touched his finger to the circular button. He waited before pressing it, just to give the universe one last chance to stop him. It took more effort to ring than he'd expected, Marcus actually had to lean into the button a bit before that familiar four-tone chime rang out.

Marcus waited.

For the first time, he realized he hadn't given much thought to what would happen when the door opened. It was a Thursday. It was the early evening. Maybe no one was home. If anyone was, who was going to answer the door? Was it just his parents living there? Did they have kids now? Little purebred half brothers and half sisters? How was he going to introduce himself? He'd spent so much time thinking about what would happen once he got inside that he forgot to think about what he would say to get inside.

What could he say?

Anxiously, Marcus began fidgeting, fussing with himself. He brushed his shirt flat along on his trim belly, wondering why the hell he picked a punk band tee for a time like this. He reached up to fiddle with his antlers, as if there was something he could do with them to make them more presentable. His toes curled against the bed of his sandals.

He waited. It was the longest minute of his life.

Then, suddenly, the door cracked open, and Marcus's heart stopped in his chest, breath held.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

Marcus's eyes locked on the hare in front of him. He didn't know what he expected her to look like, but she was more beautiful than he could have ever hoped. The jackalope swallowed hard, forcing his throat to locate his voice again.

"Karen? Karen Martin?"

The woman furrowed her brow, looking at Marcus up and down, like she was waiting for a punchline. She stayed somewhat hidden inside, only leaning around the door halfway. He got the impression that she would slam the door in his face at any moment.

"That's my maiden name. What do you want?" she asked him, still visibly wary.

Marcus swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He'd expected this to go differently. In the film he'd concocted in his head, this was supposed to be the part where the dramatic music played, and she immediately recognized him. Then she'd throw the door open and give him a big hug, pull him inside and call upstairs for his dad to come down. They'd insist he stay for dinner, talk for hours about when he was little, how much they missed him. How did she not know who he was?

The jackalope fidgeted. He wasn't sure what to do now. Neither of them did. Marcus saw that she was starting to sink back into the house and, in a panic, blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"MY NAME IS MARCUS I THINK YOU'RE MY MOTHER."

It took a few seconds, but the realization of who she was talking to became evidence on Karen's face. Her ears fell, her eyes went wide. Her mouth attempted to form words, but her voice refused to cooperate. Before she could regain her senses, a voice from further inside rang out.

"Who is it mom?" it said, sounding like it was coming from a young boy. Marcus squinted to see further into the house. It matched the exterior, from what he could see. Polished wood floors, a large living room with a rug beneath a coffee table at its center, fireplace, and a dining room past that, where he could see two younger hares and... an older male hare.

Her husband.

Their children.

Karen kept her eyes locked on Marcus as she replied. "No one, honey, go back to the table, just... just give me a moment!" the hare called back, voice wavering and shrill.

Swiftly, Karen Martin stepped outside onto the porch and closed the door behind her. She leaned back against it almost protectively, guarding it.

"What are you doing here??" she asked, voice in a panicked half-whisper. "How did you find me?"

Suddenly, Marcus found himself on the defensive. This was not at all where things were supposed to be going. The jackalope was still processing everything, looking back at the door and letting the image of what he'd seen inside replay in his mind.

"I... I'm sorry, I just... I googled your name, the address came up, I just thought..."

Karen didn't let him continue. She was too busy taking strained breaths, doing her best to hold back an anxiety attack. "No, no, no, you're not supposed to be here. That was the deal! How do you know my name??"

Marcus was entirely at sea now. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong, and it was all happening at once.

"My... the family that adopted me, they kept all the paperwork," he began, getting increasingly agitated. When Marcus was defensive, he lost his ability to keep composure. "They... they had my birth certificate, it had your name on it!"

The hare put both of her hands over her mouth, fighting to keep her breathing steady. Her eyes couldn't hold still, flickering from the teenager in front of her, to the sides, to the sky and back again rapidly. "Oh my god, oh my god..." she said, repeating it like a mantra.

Marcus could feel his ears growing hot. His chest was tightening around his heart. His jaw muscles tightened. Why was she reacting like this? Why was she so upset he came? Didn't she want to see him? Didn't she care that he'd come all this way?

"What's going on?" the jackalope asked sharply. He was seeing stars. "I thought you'd be happy to see your son!"

Immediately Marcus had a pair of hands over his muzzle, holding his mouth shut. "Be quiet!!" Karen hissed, her eyes wide and pleading, turning her head back toward the door behind her, checking to make sure no one had heard him. She paused, then, her nose wrinkling, sniffing at the air.

"Are... are you high?"

Marcus blanched. He'd taken a shower, but put on the same clothes he wore to BJ's. He got the smell off of his fur, but not his shirt, and just hadn't noticed it until now.

Fully backed into a corner now, Marcus stepped away, making distance between himself and his mother. He shook his head.

"No!! I mean... I was smoking this morning, but that was hours ago!"

Now it was Karen's turn to start pressing him. "What's going on? Are you in trouble? Did your parents kick you out? Oh my god, are you running from the police?"

Each question hit Marcus in the chest like a gunshot. "What?? No!" he nearly squeaked in reply. Although, in all honesty, he couldn't say with certainty that none of those were true. "And they're not my parents! You are! And who the fuck is that in there??" Marcus shot back, pointing at the door.

Karen's teeth clenched. "That is my husband. And those are our children," she seethed. "We've been married for ten years. My name is Karen Krauser now. Karen Martin is gone."

Marcus glared at the jackrabbit. He had one question in mind, and now he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but he knew he had to know. He spoke, gently placing each word like footsteps on a frozen lake.

"So... what happened to my dad?"

Karen just shook her head, sympathy on her face for the boy on her porch, knowing he wasn't finding what he was hoping for. "Marcus... I never even knew your father."

Just like that, all of Marcus's fantasies, all of those pictures in his head he'd spent two years dreaming about, gone. Not just how he thought this day would be, but how he'd imagined the years in between had been. All those invented memories of his real parents, erased in an instant. He stepped back, putting his weight against one of the pillars, needing the support before his legs gave out beneath him.

The two stood in silence, neither sure what to do next. The brief flare-up was over, but what now?

Karen took a deep, slow breath and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Marcus... you have no idea what you've done."

It was true, he didn't. Marcus had been going under the assumption that his arrival would be celebrated. The kind of thing that would come near the end of a movie and have the audience dabbing their eyes and talking about how sweet it all was. Not this. Not whatever this was.

The hare slumped back against her front door. It was the first moment Marcus took a chance to really look at her. There was no mistaking it, he was very much his mother's son. She was built just like him, lithe but athletic, wearing a yellow tee shirt with a nondescript landscape on it, and light jean shorts that came partway down her thighs. She looked comfortable. He looked like he was trying to show off. Both had likely been true, though neither were now.

While Karen tried to gather herself, Marcus was feeling more and more uneasy. The reality of what he'd done was beginning to set in. He'd just dropped by, unannounced, at a stranger's house with the announcement that he was her son. No warning, no phone call. How could he have expected this would go any differently?

"Mom... what's going on? What was that about saying I shouldn't be here? What deal?"

Karen flinched at being called "mom," something that made Marcus's heart sink a few inches further into his belly. He wasn't even confident in saying it, and that reaction didn't help matters.

"Marcus... I'm going to tell you something, and I'm only telling you this because you came all this way and I've been holding onto it for far too long. Okay?"

The jackalope shifted on his feet. Karen's tone didn't exactly fill him with confidence, but he nodded all the same. He'd made this trip to find out about his parents, there was no backing out now.

His mother ran a hand over her face, back over her ears, and began. "When I was younger, I was a problem child. Skipped school, shoplifting, all that. After I graduated high school, I just moved out without even telling my parents, and honestly I think they were happy I left. I grabbed money out of my dad's safe on the way out and thought I could just... I don't know, figure it out as I went.

"Well, surprise, that didn't work. I got an apartment but couldn't pay the rent. I got credit cards, I maxed them out. I ended up getting a job washing dishes because I couldn't even be trusted to wait tables. I was a nineteen year old fuck-up and I was too proud to go back to my parents and beg for help. So one night, I'm at the bar, and I see this handsome pronghorn off by himself..."

Marcus interrupted. "My dad?"

Karen's glance quieted him down again, looking at him like she was disappointed that he needed to ask. "He said his name was Danny, and that's all I got from him. I don't know what I was thinking, I just needed someone to talk to I guess. Before I knew it, we were in the back of his car.

"I didn't even think about him for weeks after that, until I started getting sick in the morning. I was gaining weight. When the doctor said I was pregnant, I was in a panic. I was barely getting by, I wasn't even getting by, and now I had a baby? I went back to the bar, just praying I'd see him again, but he didn't show up. At the end of the night, this fat old raccoon comes up and starts chatting me up."

Karen Martin, now Krauser, looked off into the evening sky, the colors changing as the sun made its journey down towards the horizon. "I don't know what got into me, but I just started spilling everything at this guy. Just, everything. And when I finished, he just... handed me a little business card and said he knew someone who would help. All it said on it was ADOPTIONS in big letters with a phone number underneath.

"It took me a week to get up the courage to call it. When I did, they started asking me all these questions and then said they could come out and meet me. I waited all day for them, then this little owl in huge glasses showed up to my apartment. He asked me all the same questions I got on the phone, it was like a police interrogation. Next thing, he told me to give him a urine sample."

Marcus couldn't stop himself. "He what??"

His mother held up a hand to tell him to let her finish. "So I did it, and he pulled this little machine out of his bag, poured it in and we waited. He told me it came back just like I said. Lagomorph and ungulate. That's when he told me that the adoption agency he worked for had a... specific clientele."

She paused then. "Marcus... how much do you understand about hybrids?"

The jackalope took a moment for the question to sink in. He was still shellshocked from the direction the story had taken. "Uh... I mean, I know it's rare, like... if the species are far apart..."

Karen looked over at him. She glanced at his antlers, like she hadn't really noticed them before. "When they get far enough apart, it's not just rare. It's a one in a million chance that the pregnancy takes, a one in a million chance that you don't miscarry, a one in a million chance that they survive the first year, and a one in a million chance they don't come out... deformed. Marcus, you don't understand just how rare you are. You might go your whole life and not meet another jackalope. Especially not one that's... perfect."

That final word was as hard for her to say as it was for him to hear. Karen soldiered on, jaw tightening, her eyes going glassy. "He said they could take you, and if you were perfect, you'd be adopted by someone who could give you everything you would ever want. A rich family with a big house who'd send you to a nice school and you wouldn't be in a run-down apartment worrying about how you'd keep the lights on.

"And... they said if I signed the contract, they'd give me a thousand dollars right then and there, ten thousand when you were born, and then another ten thousand the day you got adopted."

Marcus's chest clenched around his lungs. He couldn't force a breath in or out.

His mother had sold him.

Karen's words started coming out in rushes. She couldn't keep herself composed any more. "I didn't have a choice!" she cried, trying as much to convince Marcus as herself. "I couldn't take care of you! Oh my god I would have if I could have, I swear, but what else could I do? They told me you'd get a better life than I could have ever provided, and I needed that money!"

Marcus was trembling. He had been upset with people in his life before. Gotten into screaming fights with the Lewises, with teachers, even BJ on occasion. For the first time in his life, Marcus was so angry he was paralyzed.

"...it sounds like," he said, his teeth pressed together, glaring at his mother. "You're telling me selling me was the best decision you ever made."

SLAP.

The teen's cheek was stinging before he even knew Karen's hand was coming. The jackrabbit pointed furiously at him, furrows down her cheeks. "Don't you even pretend like you understand how hard that decision was. I signed those papers and I took their money, but I had to spend the next eight months carrying you, knowing you were going to leave. I wanted to read you stories, I wanted to give you a name, but I couldn't, because I couldn't let myself love you. I had to let you go. I carried you in my belly for nine months, but I've carried the guilt of letting you go in my heart ever since. I just prayed that whoever adopted you loved you as much as I wasn't allowed to!"

Karen Krauser, nee Martin, put her face in her hands. Her little body shook as she breathed. Marcus didn't know what to do. He wanted to take it all back. Go back to five hours ago. When he was just on BJ's couch, smoking weed, thinking about how meeting his mother would go but not planning on ever doing it. He wanted his fantasy back.

Karen sniffed, doing her best to keep it together long enough to finish. "When it came time to deliver, I called them up and they came over. We didn't go to a hospital, they brought their own doctor, their own midwife. As soon as you took your first breath, they gave me that second check and took you away. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. They told me to tell everyone I knew it was a stillbirth, no one could know what had happened. I took that money and I put it all down on my debt.

"God, it was agony. I wanted to call them and ask how you were doing. I wanted to check in on you, I wanted to see baby pictures, I wanted to know your name. I tried once. I called that same number from the card and they told me I had a wrong number. As soon as I hung up, I got a call back saying if I did that again that you wouldn't be getting adopted and there wouldn't be another check.

The jackrabbit shuddered, recalling the conversation. Marcus had a feeling they had said more than Karen was letting on. "So I waited. Then, a year later, I got a second check in the mail and a picture of you with your new parents, along with a letter saying our... business had concluded and never to contact them again." Karen faded off, fighting so hard to speak clearly. "I still have that picture.

"I took the money and I finished paying off my debts, I moved to Amherst with what I had left. I had just enough to get an apartment in a nicer area. I got a job at a dentist's office. That's where I met Thomas."

Marcus turned again to look inside the house. They'd been talking so long that the family had finished, and were cleaning up the table. He thought about all those years in between. Family vacations, birthdays, holidays. A perfectly normal, loving family. And all that time...

"...you never told them?"

Karen stared daggers back at Marcus, vicious enough to make him shrink away. "No. I kept my end. I stayed quiet all these years. I carried that burden myself. They couldn't know. And they can't know. Do you understand?"

It didn't seem possible, but Marcus's heart managed to drop even further down in his stomach. "Are... are you telling me to leave?" he asked. The words seemed to float out of his mouth, as though he hadn't actually said them himself.

His mother kept the stern look on her face, but her eyes made it clear she was forcing herself to look stern. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I don't know what you thought this was going to be, but you have to go home. To your family. And no, Marcus. That's not me. That's not us."

Marcus's jaw fell. He stepped forward, trying to close the gap. "Mom..."

Karen immediately stepped away, clenching her eyes and jaw while she did. "Please. Marcus. Don't make this any harder than it already is. I had to go through the pain of letting you go once before."

She looked away from her son, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Now... please. Just go. You have a mother back home, and I'm sure she's worried sick about you," she said, quickly opening the door and sliding back into the house.

Marcus rushed along behind her. "Wait! Stop! I can't just go back! You don't underst-!"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Karen Krauser was inside, and the door was locked.

Marcus stood, staring at the brass knocker, the lion's head staring back at him, mocking him. He pounded on the wood, screaming for his mother to open it up.

Suddenly the door flung open, but it wasn't Karen. A dark-furred jackrabbit in his mid-thirties, half a head taller than Marcus with square shoulders in a polo shirt, was glaring back down at him.

"Listen," Thomas barked, thrusting a finger at Marcus's face. "I don't know what you said to my wife, but she is in tears in the bathroom right now, and if you don't leave right now, I'm calling the fucking cops, you understand??"

The door slammed shut in his face, and Marcus heard the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place for the second time.

For a moment, he just stood there. It was as if so much had happened that his emotions shut down completely, and Marcus Lewis was numb. He bent over and grabbed his duffel bag, then turned and walked down the driveway to the road. He started walking along the side of the road, without any direction. For a while, he just let his feet carry him, until he could no longer see Karen Krauser's house when he looked back.

Marcus didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. All he knew was that he wasn't going home.