FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

CHAPTER 6

TEST FROM ABOVE

Luckily for Frank, he had learned that he would not be working either Friday or Saturday, which meant that he would be able to help Jeb today and, more importantly, that he would have two days off in a row for the first time in over a month. Ever since talking to May, Frank felt that his fortune was turning. In the week after Sara had given him her appointment, Frank had gotten his first invitation to hang around with one of his neighbors outside the apartment, had found some tables that would fit his kitchen well, and now he had this weekend off. That was, admittedly, not what one might say was overwhelming evidence of a change in luck, and this theoretical one might, in addition, say that several things had happened recently that showed the opposite, but Frank wanted to believe it was happening, so he would take anything he got to convince himself.

The weather app had said that it was bitter cold outside, so Frank dressed in two shirts and a thin jacket, which would be more than enough to keep him warm. One of the benefits of being a sheep was saving on winter clothing. He barley even felt the chill as he walked across the parking lot to the surprisingly well-maintained silver pick-up that he would be riding in with Jeb today. He became aware of voices as he neared the truck, one deep, with the drawl of a long-time Kansas resident, and the other light and feminine, possessing a slight Spanish accent. The owner of the second voice was the first to notice him. "Oh, it's Hale," remarked Ana, who was wrapped up thickly in a puffy white coat. Even dressed for the weather, she was so thin that Frank worried a strong wind might knock her over.

"It's nice to see you, too, Ana," Frank said sourly, then turned to Jeb. "Is she coming with?" Jeb, apparently able to withstand the cold with nothing more than the flecktarn jacket that he wore indoors, nodded his head. "Kind of. We're going to drop Ana off at her friend's before we head over to get the T.V. Shouldn't be more than five minutes out of the way."

Frank stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket and turned to regard Ana. "I didn't know you'd be coming along," she said, taking the words out of his mouth. She stepped to the truck and opened the door. "You want me to sit in the middle? Or would you rather? You seem like the kind of gut who wouldn't mind being in between a man and a woman." Frank shook his head. Did she do this to every guy or was he special? Staring past her to the seats, he tried to find some possible arrangement where they wouldn't have to sit next to each other, but the space up front was barely big enough for the three of them as is. Not looking forward to dealing with Ana's strange comments for the whole ride, he crawled up onto the seat with a muttered "Grow up," which drew a snicker.

Ana hopped in behind him, sliding close as she did so, pressing her body against his. Frank was about to ask her what her problem was when Jeb climbed into his seat, also sliding closer than could have been comfortable. She wasn't doing it on purpose, then; this seat was just that cramped. He closed his eyes at the sound of the engine turning over, thinking back to a piece of advice a friend given him back in his second year of high school. "Whenever someone asks if you want to ride bitch," the wise friend had said, "always say no, no matter what the situation." He had never thought that it was bad advice, but it was only now that he was sitting here, getting shoved and poked with elbows whenever there was a bump in the road, did he truly know how right his friend had been.

As the trio drove on, Frank sat up a bit straighter to stare over the high dashboard, noticing that the ground was clear and the grass was green, unlike the streets of Wilmington would be around this same time. It was weird to think that he might not see any snow at all this year, or the next one after that. Driving in the snow was a pain in the ass, so Frank tried to avoid it whenever he could. This far south, he'd have any easier time than ever, when he eventually saved up for a car. The thought of never again having to deal with snow should have put a smile of his face, but instead he felt an empty feeling tug at the back of his head. The symptoms of homesickness should have alleviated after the first month away, Frank thought, not intensify. Frank turned his gaze from the grass to look at a clear blue sky, deep blue, like the middle of the sea, seeming to mock his mood with its beauty.

Frank's train of though was interrupted by a sharp pain in his ribs. Ana had elbowed him again, although this time seemed more intentional. Frank rubbed at his side, looking a question to Ana with irritation plain on his face. Ana stared back coolly, a contemptuous smirk the only answer she was willing to give. That was more than enough, however, and Frank instantly came to realize that this probably had something to do with Mort and Adrianne.

Nothing happened for two days after Frank got into the confrontation with Mort, and he had begun to think that the whole incident had been quietly forgotten. That was fine with Frank, who had grown increasingly embarrassed with his outburst the further away he got from it, though he was still unwilling to apologize for it, convinced that it was Mort who had started the whole thing. Content to move on with his life simply ignoring any obnoxious neighbors, he had gone out one day to grab his mail, encountering Mary in the process. He had cheerily wished her a good morning, asking her if she had any plans for the day. The mailboxes were located just outside of the front door of The Homestead, so there was plenty of space to go around him, but Mary had chosen to shove past him as she went inside, nearly knocking him over. He had seen Ana on that day, too, and tried to ask what Mary's behavior might have been about, only to receive a similarly frosty attitude. Even Sara had seemed upset with him, but at least she had the decency to tell him why: Adrianne had told her that Frank got into a fight with Mort. Sara explained that Adrianne hadn't chosen to give any details other than that the fight happened, but Adrianne was a well-liked member of the apartment, and know for her honesty besides. Her being mad with Frank was enough for the other women in The Homestead to turn against him.

Mort did not have a matching standing with the men of the apartment, apparently, as Jeb and Ozzy were treating him the same as they had been so far, although Ozzy had never been particularly polite to him before and Jeb he had only know for a week. May, thankfully, had dismissed any rumors about him by saying that they were the result of "drama brought on by an accumulation of stress" and that she would "wait until the cause of the issue became known before making any judgement on either party." May seemed like a very smart woman, but Frank wished that she didn't feel the need to constantly remind him by talking like that. At least she was talking to him, so he put up with it, though he couldn't imagine how Jeb managed it every day. Maybe she only talked like that to patients.

For the remainder of the drive with Ana, Frank hunched silently into his seat, allowing Jeb and Ana to talk over his head. Ana threw a few more rude comments towards Frank as she spoke, which he made a point of ignoring, while Jeb, able to read the dour cloud hanging over Frank, was considerate enough to let Frank wallow in his sulking. Not a single word came out of the sheep's mouth until the truck stopped in front of a café that Ana had pointed out. "This is my stop," she said, leaning forward to wave at a woman who was standing under the shop's awning.

Jeb opened his door, stepping out and stretching. "Stiff after fifteen minutes. Damn, I'm old. Hey, Frank, I need to make a pit stop in here before we head over to get the T.V." Jeb disappeared inside, and Ana walked with a swaying grace over to her friend. Feeling as if he might as well stretch a bit himself while he was here, he got out of the truck and paced aimlessly around the small parking lot the café shared with a bookshop. It was nice to just get out and move his legs.

As he walked, he caught a conversation from Ana and her friend, a lizard with dusty gray scales, dressed in thick layers to compensate for the lack of internally generated heat, which had Frank as the topic. "Is this the guy who was bullying that friend of yours?" asked the lizard, speaking in a normal volume that anyone near the café could have easily made out. Ana nodded her head, saying, "I don't know the specifics, but from what I gather, it sounds like this guy was starting shit with her husband. Completely out of nowhere, too. Mort--that's the husband's name--Mort was just sitting on the couch in the common room, trying to relax, when this guy comes in and starts with some bullshit." The lizard scrunched up her face in disgust. "Men!" she spat. "Do they think people will start calling them a pussy if they don't get into a fight every other day? I mean, who's this sheep guy trying to impress?" Ana rummaged around in her coat pocket as she nodded along, eventually pulling out a crumpled packet of cigarettes and a disposable lighter. "Maybe he doesn't pay attention when he drinks," Ana said, sticking a cigarette in her mouth. "You know how Noemí's man is like when he gets into the tequila."

Frank, who had, even from across the parking lot, heard everything, marched over to where the two women were standing under the awning, a scowl distorting his features. Ana noticed him coming over with the lighter stopped halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening as he walked over. "Where the hell do you get off, talking about me out in public like that?" Frank asked, jabbing an accusing finger toward Ana. The jackal looked to her friend in a panic, but the lizard just gave an embarrassed shrug. Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, Ana began trying to stammer something out. "I, uh...Sorry, I didn't think that you--" Frank folded his arms and stared at her, waiting for her to finish before he gave her a piece of his mind. Did she think he wouldn't hear, when these two had been speaking so loudly? Or did she merely think he wouldn't do anything about, would roll over and let her speak whatever she wanted about him?

It was satisfying, in a petty way, to see the always-confident Ana flounder for an excuse, looking desperately to her friend for help as she fidgeted under Frank's steady gaze. She eventually managed to gain control of herself, clearing her throat and standing up straighter. She took a deep breath and let it go. "I'm sorry," Ana said, sounding for all the world like a child who had been caught eating candy right before dinner. "I didn't know you could speak Spanish." She cringed as the words left her mouth, an embarrassed flush showing through brown fur.

It was Frank's turn for his eyes to widen in surprise. "What?" he said, genuinely taken aback. Already he regretted letting his surprise show. This was, obviously, a trap laid by Ana to make a joke out of him. Even if he couldn't tell where she was going with this, he had already stepped on this landmine. Rolling his head to the side, he mentally braced himself, resigned to let her take her shot before he tore into her about what she had been saying to her lizard friend.

Ana ran a hand through the fur on her head. "Yeah. I'm--I heard that people up north don't speak--Yeah." She cleared her throat again, then collected her friend and went into the café, leaving a thoroughly baffled Frank standing alone on the asphalt. Where was the potshot? The rude remark? Was this a long-term strategy, the cruelty of which would only make itself known at a later date, like some kind of extraordinary chess maneuver designed specifically to make a fool of him? There was no way Ana had been genuinely surprised by him understanding them. The both of them were speaking in plain English. Maybe she slipped into English without meaning to? Frank was not bilingual, but he had heard that some people who were would sometimes switch to speaking a language they were more comfortable with without meaning to. But a whole sentence? And would they still not realize they had been speaking a different language even after someone pointed it out? Frank put two fingers on one of his horns, slowly rubbing them back and forth across the rough surface. Frank felt a wave of nausea rising from deep within.

Her reaction had been so real, there was no way that she was faking it. She had all these stupid little jokes she liked, and the more they made someone else uncomfortable, the more she liked them. The friend had appeared surprised, too, and Frank couldn't imagine Ana going through the effort of colluding with a friend for a joke that wasn't even that funny. He had heard them speaking English; to think it could be anything else was nonsense. Ana was the type of person who couldn't keep a smile off her face when she was about to hit someone with something mean. Ana was mad at him because of the thing with Adrianne, so she probably hadn't felt like smiling when she saw him.

A large paw tapped Frank on the back, nearly making him jump out of his skin. He whirled around, a sudden terror causing his body to tense like a coiled spring, ready to leap away at the first sign of danger. Jeb stood with his hands up, concern creasing his brow. "You okay?" he asked, lowering his arms to his sides. Frank could already feel his breath coming in slower and his pulse calming down from the race it had been running. He shook his head trying figure out why he had been so heated in the first place. It was the dumbest joke in the world. Elementary schoolers wouldn't let it get to them. Why had he? For a moment, something floated to the front of his mind that might have provided an answer, but Frank suppressed it viciously, not wanting to deal with that kind of thought right now. Fixing the wool on his head, Frank said, "I'm fine," and went to the truck.

The house of the man selling the T.V. was less than three minutes from where Frank and Jeb had dropped of Ana, and the T.V. itself was light enough that they were able to get it strapped onto the bed of the truck in no time flat. Frank felt relief knowing that he could look forward to a trip back without elbows in his ribs or Ana's horrible sense of humor. Another sign that my luck is turning, thought Frank.

Earlier in his life, he wouldn't have taken such a small event as evidence of a shifting fortune, but he had recently developed a more relaxed definition of good luck. Before, good luck had been something like getting to chat with a cute girl at a party or finding out that the person who took out the car before him had decided to fill up the tank. Now, it was going through a day at work without getting chewed out over some bullshit that he may or may not have even done or finding that the vegetables in the supermarket were near enough to their expiration date for him to get a discount. Accepting the ever smaller and ever more infrequent happy surprises had become a sort of coping mechanism for Frank.

A cough off to the side reminded Frank that there was someone other than him in the car. Shit, that was right! The reason he had been excited to come out today was so he could talk with Jeb, but, so far, he had barely spoken to the bear. Only, what were they going to talk about? Frank wasn't exactly in a talkative mood after the weird stunt that Ana pulled. Drumming his fingers on the seat, Frank racked his brain for a good starter. Clearing his throat to get Jeb's attention, he said, "So, your name is Jeb, right? Is that short for Jebediah?" Hardly his best, yet Frank still had hope he might make a friend before this trip was over. At least one good thing had to happen today.

"That's me," Jeb nodded without taking his eyes from the road. "Jebediah Giselle." That was it. Frank put a hand to his chin, trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt. He hated being the lead in a conversation. "Giselle, huh? I wouldn't have expected a guy like you to have a name like that." Jeb turned his head in Frank's direction, giving him a flat stare with a raised eyebrow. For an instant Frank wondered if he had accidentally said something off-color and the feeling of nausea from the café returned in force. It was hard to keep the anxiety off his face as Jeb stared at him, and Frank felt for all the world as if that stare were physically weighing on him, sinking him deep into his seat.

"I think I see what you mean," Jeb said as he turned back to the road. The stare had only lasted about a second, but Frank felt like it had gone on for a full minute and had to suppress the urge to let out a sigh of relief when it was taken off him. "Well, it's not my family name," Jeb continued, "I got May's family name when we married." That was usual, even up north. However, Frank had been told that people down south took families and marriage much more seriously. Why did a guy like Jeb take his wife's name?

"Well, I didn't have a family name. I was abandoned at the steps of a church, if you can believe it. No idea who left me there. They gave me the name Jebediah, then handed me over to a proper orphanage. Never got adopted. I wasn't, you know, a troubled kid or anything, it just never happened. I had a last name, for legal purposes, but I had no attachment to it, so when May and I got hitched, I thought it would be better to keep her name, since that one meant something." Frank smiled at the big man. "That's nice. I never would have guessed a guy like you had a sensitive side." Jeb waved a black-furred hand around dismissively. "Hardly," he said. "How did you and May meet, anyway?" asked Frank, trying to keep this ball rolling.

"We met at college," Jeb said. Seeing the question on Frank's face, Jeb continued by saying, "The orphanage didn't have the money for it obviously, and I had stopped living with them well before I went to college, anyway. A kid living on his own in the nineties could never earn enough to get a degree, but a recruiter for the marines told me I'd get a free ride if I served for a couple years. That wasn't true, but it got me close enough that I was able to work my way through the rest of it. I had to take out a loan, too, but it wasn't as big as it could have been. I actually managed to finish paying it off three years ago." That last bit had a note of pride in it, almost like he was bragging. Frank figured that he might have the right to be. After all, who did he know that could say that they paid their student loans back? Not himself, not for a long while yet. Forcing the grim thought out of his head, Frank pushed forward. "Since you met May at college, does that mean you were studying psychology?"

Jeb shook his head. "Programming. During our third year, May and I both took modern theater as an elective. Everyone else was so interested in talking about Brecht or Kushner or whoever, but me and May were there because we had heard that it was the type of class where it was possible to get an A in your sleep. It was, too, thank the Lord. It had been a rough semester for the both of us, and we were much too exhausted from our other classes to put in any real work. That was how we started talking, by the way. Bitching to each other about how hard we had it. We had no one else to talk to, seeing as her family lived two states away and I never had one in the first place. Things didn't get any easier after that semester, so we still needed someone to lean on. We kept meeting up out of class until it became a habit, then we kept meeting up after we got out of college. Then we got married." Jeb said it as if it was the most natural conclusion possible, which put a warmth in Frank's chest that he hadn't felt for a long while.

"Wow," breathed Frank, surprised at how talkative Jeb could be once he got going. "That's nice, man. Really, thanks for telling me. Although...programming? Why that?" Jeb shrugged. "It was a new field, back then, and I thought that, because personal computers were on the rise, there would be a demand for guys like me. I wanted the money to start a family. I wanted to raise my kid right, since I--Well, you know." Frank looked Jeb up and down, then shook his head. No matter what angle he stared at the bear from, Frank couldn't see the hard muscles and stern face crammed into a cubicle, typing for his meals. The idea got a laugh out of him. This trip had been worth it after all.

Getting more comfortable, Frank put an arm behind his head and rested against it. "Do I get to meet him, or did he move out already?" he asked. Jeb stared at him sideways, confusion plain on his face. "What?" asked the bear. Frank smiled up at the bigger man. "Your kid, man! You just mentioned them. What, is he off at school right now?" Jeb nodded his understanding but didn't answer immediately. Coming to a stop at a red light, Jeb folded his arms over the steering wheel, leaning his upper body against it, and stared at the bumper of the car in front of them as if the answer to Frank's question was written across it. Something about Jeb's hesitation made Frank's smile slowly being to wane.

Jeb sniffed loudly before he began, appearing to be working himself up to what he was going to say. "Don't got a kid." It was short and simple, yet still seemed to take something out of him. "Oh," said Frank, his smile disappearing completely. "But I thought you said you were going to have one." Gradually, like a train pulling into the station, Frank's mind came in behind his mouth to tell him that this was probably a touchy subject and that he should refrain from saying anything further. Then, once it had become aware that it had come too late, began explaining to Frank that not bothering to wait for it to show up before opening his mouth was why shit like this kept happening. Quietly agreeing, Frank avoided looking directly at Jeb, hoping the bear wouldn't take offense.

Jeb sighed and returned to a normal position as the light changed to green. "I said I wanted to get enough money that I could give a kid a good life. That never happened. What I got instead was just a run of bad luck." Bad luck, huh? Frank could relate to that more than anything else so far. "What happened?" he asked. Shut up! Frank told himself. Shut the fuck up! Christ! An outside observer might think that Jeb had taken to intently studying the sticker on the rear window of the car in front of them, depicting a small stick figure with two larger stick figures on either side, but something in his eyes told Frank that he wasn't looking at the sticker or anything else in view.

"I started working for a start-up here in Kansas. The pay was fine, but the hours were terrible. I'd be putting in twelve-, fourteen-hour days, four or five days a week, sometimes on weekends. The office was far from my house, too, about forty-five minutes or so. I've learned a bit more about project management since moving to construction, but even at the time I could tell that the guy in charge had no idea what he was doing. People were running around, stepping on each other's toes, no one knowing what they were supposed to be doing. A whole team would be working on a few lines of code for a week, only to find out, after they were done, that another team had been assigned that section and had finished three days earlier. After a while, things just kept adding up until I started to feel it in my bones. I went to my boss, and he said that I could move to the office in L.A., but I wouldn't have had the money for that city even if the move came with a raise. So, I quit.

"Moved to construction after that. Definitely not what I'd call easy, but at least I'm home at a decent time. May's luck wasn't much better. Nothing she did wrong, just no offers for a good job close to home and not enough in the bank to try looking farther away. What we still owed from college made sure of that. With no good jobs, we made do with a few okay ones over the years, until we were able to pay back most of what we borrowed, which goes to show what perseverance can do for you. I've got this truck; May's started a savings account so we can buy a house in the future. We might even have the cash to buy in ten years or so. I'd say we're pretty comfortable now, all things considered. Being out of debt is a rare honor just now."

Frank felt like he was sinking into his seat again. A part of him replayed Jeb's story over and over, trying to find someplace where he messed up, where the events that led him away from a prosperous life could be said to have been caused by an error on his part. He hadn't realized he had been doing it until Jeb mentioned luck, but Frank had been trying to convince himself that he was different to all the other tenants in the apartment. The reason that they were there was due to some personal failing, like gambling or drinking, or perhaps because they lacked an education. He, on the other hand, with his proper schooling and determination, would quickly pull himself out that dingy place and become the proud owner of a new home, with a new car, and a stable job. Then, here came Jeb, college educated himself, ex-military, a twenty-year head start, and nothing to say for it other than he was "able to pay back most of what he borrowed." Most.

Frank stared up at the deep blue sky, feeling like it was going to come crashing down on him any time now. A part of him almost wished it would, just so he wouldn't have to feel the creeping worry he felt every time he spent more than thirty dollars at the grocery store. "Okay, well," Frank began, his brain warning him to think what he was about to say through while simultaneously being too overwhelmed to possibly be able to stop his mouth from spewing whatever it wanted, "If you're getting out of debt, and even buying a house, why don't you have a kid now?"

Jeb actually laughed at that. "Kid, I'm going to be forty-two in a month. It's too late for me." Looking over at Frank, Jeb was able to see how the younger man took that. Thinking quickly, he searched for the words to cheer the sheep up. "Uhh," he said, "That is, I've made my peace with not getting to have a kid. I've talked to Father Niall--He's the priest at the church three blocks from us. You should go there if you haven't already--Anyway, I talked to Father Niall, and he says that things like what happened to me just happen sometimes. These are tests from God. I'd like to think that I passed mine. I'm sure you'll have a test of your own someday, if you aren't having one right now." Jeb offered a wide smile, full of kindness and only a little bit forced.

Frank managed to smile back, saying, "Is there a test from God that's as easy as that theater class you mentioned? Can I take that one?" The two men shared a laugh, then settled into silence for a while. After a minute or two, Jeb pointed at an ugly green building, the bricks pockmarked and the paint fading. "Back at The Homestead," said Jeb. "We sure are," Frank agreed.