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Chapter 1 - California Bound

Riding a train for the first time was like being trapped inside the stomach of a loud metal dragon.

That alone might sound as though I'm having the most exciting experience of my lifetime. But in all honesty, as the seasons transition from summer to autumn in the Year of our Lord 1905, I start this new part of my journal both excited and utterly bored.

Watching the scenery speed past me outside the window, I thought about that damned moving picture which the fox twins -- Fiz and Rut -- took me to see and which forever clouded my imagination on what riding a train would be like.

Months ago, in an effort to cheer me up (I think), the two fox brothers took me to a vaudeville show which featured The Great Train Robbery in its program. The moving picture was apparently a massive success, since I had heard many of my clients (both at the Arc and at Palmer's shop) talk about it when it first came out about a year and a half prior. But I was never interested enough to go to an actual vaudeville show to see it for myself. After all, getting in wasn't cheap, and I could use the money to buy myself something good to eat.

But since the twins were graciously offering to pay for my ticket, there was no reason for me not to go. And boy, was I in for a surprise!

That was the first time in my life I had ever seen a moving picture, and not only was I enthralled by what I'd seen, I had assumed that a train ride would always be exciting! All throughout the show I sat on the edge of my seat, leaning forward and watching with my muzzle open, almost jumping out of my chair when any action happened on screen. It was like a play...but also not, since there weren't actual people on stage acting out every scene. So when we had made plans to travel across the country, all I could think about was reliving that moving picture.

Sadly, the moving picture was far from the truth. Besides the thrill of seeing the country, riding a train was boring. No robberies, no shootouts, no heroes saving the day. All I could do was enjoy my time with Tin and my own thoughts, and I needed to let Tin rest once in a while--it's a shame that not even a strong male like him could match my stamina when it came to that kind of exercise!

So here I am, bored.

I hate moments like this, when I'm ready to do something but all I can do is 'hurry up and wait,' as Tin says from time to time. I may as well catch you up on what's been going on since the last time I wrote -- and believe me, a lot has happened.

My--our--journey to California began over a week ago. I had no idea what to expect but Siro, our other traveling companion, had said he would not let us pay for our fare. I was wary at first. When I was on the Paramour a free trip anywhere usually meant two things, a lot of hard labor AND horrible living conditions. Tin had no idea what we were walking into. He said he hadn't left New York City in years -- this was almost a bigger trip for him than when I left London so many years ago.

I had only been in Grand Central Station a few times, but this time was different. Siro, dressed smartly in a business suit with a silk button up shirt and a handsome tie and hat, led us down toward the trains and handed a card to one of the attendants. The man looked at it and then opened the door he was standing next to and ushered us in.

Instantly I knew I was in a world outside my own. The stairs were beautiful wood and the lights crystalline in design. There was plush carpeting as we were lead down toward the platform where attendants took our bags (Tin, almost adorably, clawed at one of them when they took his bag), and then lead us to a small waiting area with drinks and small sandwiches made with fruits I had only bare heard of. I saw Tin grimace when he had a cucumber sandwich. He asked, softly, where the meat was but before Siro could give him a cheeky answer we were called out to the platform to board.

I had only been on a train a couple times, and never one that was designed to travel across a whole continent. The noise of the platform always overwhelmed me and I held my ears flat. I followed close to Siro, not wanting to get lost.

When we got to our train I was surprised we were stopping near the back of it. The last two times I had been on a train I had always been up closer to the engine. The gentleman in white gloves and a smart train uniform opened up a door to the car, and I found myself stepping into luxury.

I had thought my trip would be in a hard chair for the next few days, but instead I was in a grand, elegant car. Plush furniture lined the walls with rich chocolate tables and burgundy carpet with drapes to match and edged in gold. Lanterns of electric lights illuminated the walls from decorative sconces. In the back were smaller rooms, but I was still standing there, stunned.

I thought Tin was going to have a heart attack.

"The hell is this?" Tin said, looking around. "This is how people get to California when they aren't taking that damned boat?"

Siro chuckled and stretched his arms, unbuttoning his suit jacket to hang on a peg. He was also undoing his shirt. "Quintin, I know you better than that. This is not how the typical person travels to California."

"Just how rich are you?" the tiger queried.

"Now that would be a rude question to ask a gentleman, Mr. Sullivan." The white wolf smiled a little bit and had his shirt off. Siro's body was to be envied -- lean but not hard, the lines of his muscles and body seeming to be cut from clay. He knew he was beautiful in a way a lot of people wished they could be. Even my own body didn't look nearly as nice -- at least in my humble opinion. I still had the better ass.

"But, if just to sate your curiosity, this is not my train car; I hardly travel enough to require one. No, this is the car of one of my personal clients. He was kind enough to loan it to me when asked at his last...session." Siro smiled playfully and winked at Tin. "He travels a lot around the country and his wife insisted on something comfortable, so here it is."

"I feel like I'm going to break something just standing here," Tin said warily, looking at things nervously.

"I know you and Simon are rather energetic, but do be careful onboard. Since you two are a couple, you shall have the master bedroom at the back." Siro pointed to the far end of the car. "Food will be brought to us, so we will not have to go traipsing through the other cars. There is also a bathroom with a full shower that I insist you both take use of daily. Not that either of you are unpleasant to be around, but I prefer the company I keep to be pleasant to the nose. There is also a finite amount of water, so do not linger. There is alcohol to your hearts' content there," he said as he motioned to the bar. "And just make yourselves at home. This is home for the next week or so."

I have to say that I love being able to sit and watch the world go by me. When I had been on the Paramour, I was either below deck or working the rigging and had little time to actually admire the world around me. I could go weeks without seeing the sky, and then I would be in a new location without ever seeing how I got there. The whole thing had felt overwhelming back then; I was just this boy worried about the world swallowing me up. Now, though, I was traveling once again in a way I never imagined and with people I considered friends.

I sat back in my chair and looked at the two of them; one was a mystery to me, someone who clearly had more resources than he wanted to admit. Siro had a good heart but I wasn't quite sure what his motives were for helping me. Perhaps it's just kindness. Sadly, people like that were rare. He was still someone I considered a friend. After all, I know for a fact that I wouldn't be alive today if not for his involvement in my life.

And then there was Tin. Quintin Sullivan, a former gang leader and someone who had gotten wrapped up in all of this because Mordecai and I came barreling into New York City. Quintin had seemed cold and aggressive when we first met, but over the weeks we had worked together I had come to respect his strength. He knew he wasn't the brightest man in the room but he was sharp and a good judge of character. After all, he liked me.

That was another thing I'm still trying to figure out. Ever since Crossbell Tower had burned to the ground, Tin and I... Well, we had mostly been together and rarely apart, save for the couple of times the twins had dragged me away for some fun. Tin and I fit together like a hand and glove and we found ourselves pulled to one another. We had spent a whole day in bed -- something I rarely did, not even when I was at my worst and needing to have sex to feel alive. Tin was a rather generous lover and knew ways to touch me... I'm sorry, I know this is probably too much, but he ended up being someone I really like. I sleep so much better with him next to me, holding me, and I find myself wondering what our lives will be like once Mordecai is dead. He has given me no indication he plans to leave my side, which makes me happy.

Another thing that I am also very relieved over is that I don't see Avery anymore. At first, when I heard him sing that song, it scared me, and I didn't want to confront my friend. I still don't know what he was: a ghost, or something going on in my brain? The hat in my bag could be his, or it could have blown up from the street below. I couldn't tell. I will say, though, that my feelings had gone from fear to acceptance, and now I missed his presence. I'm sure this is part of the healing process, something I never did before. I never allowed myself to miss my friends.

Anyways, besides having a lot of sex with Tin, there really wasn't a lot to do on the train as we barreled toward San Francisco. We sat and watched the world go by, slept, napped, sometimes played cards with Siro, and sometimes Tin showed me how to throw a punch. He was going to teach me how to fight, he said. Good, I needed it. I still had the gun that Rut gave me, stowed away in its box in my bag in our room, and I planned to practice much more once we got settled in San Francisco.

The trip was dull a lot of the time, but it was also a wonderful way to see just how beautiful this country called America was. Sure, I had been all over the world when I was a sailor, but I never got to really see those lands -- it was always the port and that was it. I hadn't left London when I was a boy and I never left New York once I had come to America. I saw my first snow-capped mountains on the train, as well as the herds of cattle and flatland as far as the eye could see, sometimes blanketed by beautiful farms and other times by dense, terrifying forests that rippled across the landscape, untamed and wild. I tried to imagine what it had been like, the men crossing this land for the first time and seeing this place without much life. It must have been terrifying and exciting all at once.

When the train stopped, and it did stop often enough, the three of us would get out of the car and stretch our legs, walk around, and take in the sights around the station. It was here, in the middle of nowhere, that I saw my first Native -- Indian as they were called, which didn't make any sense to me. They weren't from India and yet they were called "Indians"... Siro had explained it was a mistake by the man who 'discovered' this land, and I kind of fell asleep with my eyes open. I just planned to call them what they wanted to be called. I did admire the wolf from afar, wearing leathers and looking just like any other wolf I had met, but there was something different about him, a kind of heritage. I wanted to talk but we had to get back on the train.

Winding through these giant mountains, the Rockies, had been terrifying! We went up the slope of the mountain and then began to twist and turn all along the path next to the Colorado River. We were told that, when we entered one of the numerous tunnels, to not move between cars as the exhaust from the engine would get inside. Thankfully we didn't need to go anywhere, and I had my nose pushed against the glass and staring out. Siro had watched for a while but went back to his book. Tin was sprawled out on the sofa, arms tucked behind his head and napping. I couldn't believe they weren't enjoying this as much as I did. I was enthralled by how beautiful this was, and I wished I could get out and walk around. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, no buildings and so much color... I wanted to just be a part of this world. It made my tail flick about wildly in excitement.

---

When we finally arrived at San Francisco, the city was unlike any place I had ever seen before. I know I'm not the most traveled of foxes, but I had been born in London and lived in New York City, and neither could really compare to this new place.

The city was sprawling, stretching out across the land like it had room to breathe. Neither London or New York City had felt like it had such freedom; in both of those cities, things always felt like they were so jam-packed that people were forced to live on top of one another sometimes. That isn't to say San Francisco doesn't have a lot of people, it does! It's just... different.

And I shan't forget the hills! I wish I could describe those hills properly. Everything had been so flat everywhere else I lived, but here, there were hills that rose up high with roads sloping downwards with cable cars running their length in the middle. The streets were wide, and the buildings were new and crisp but also lived in. It was like the city had been built and culture had moved in.

The weather was also so unlike anything I had expected. On the east coast the weather would be frigid, but when we pulled into the station in the early afternoon, the sun was breaking through the fog. It was actually a bit warm, if not windy. I kept tilting my nose up to the air and sniffing the wonderful scents of food and the salty air. Everything felt so new, so fresh. I was making Tin chuckle.

"Eager?" the tiger said with his hands in his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up with a match.

"It's just so... new," I answered with a bit of awe in my voice, looking around slowly to take it all in.

"San Francisco is growing at such a pace that it could outstrip New York City in a decade," the white wolf said as he stepped off the train car and stretched his arms high into the air in a grand sweeping posture. "Commerce, wonderful weather, far away from the politics that had bogged this country down for decades... This is the last frontier of the Americas, my friends!"

"Some frontier," Tin said as he took his cigarette out of his muzzle. "This place looks like New York put itself together nicely before going out on a date."

"There's also the fact that this is still a hub of immigration. You get cultures here you wouldn't see a lot of on the other side of the country. Chinese and Mexicans are all about here, as well as various other cultures from Asia."

"We had Chinese in New York City," Tin said with a frown.

"We do, but there is a larger population, even given the current political exclusion of Chinese immigrants. The same goes for the Mexicans and the Central Americans. It is more cost-effective for them to come here than New York City. Just be aware that things may look familiar but it will also feel very different as well."

Just as Siro finished speaking, someone shouted his name from our left. Tin moved between me and the person shouting, a hand on my chest. I smiled a little bit at the protectiveness but knew that there was nothing to fear. Things felt too good.

Two white wolves ran up to Siro and threw their arms around him. "Brother! You're here right on time!" The shorter of the two shouted, tails wagging in a way only wolves really could.

So these were Siro's two brothers that I had heard little about.

The one with yellow beads in his headfur was Oro -- I had heard about their color choices. He was, without a doubt, perfect. I didn't know it then but I found out from Siro that his yellow beaded brother was the type of man that looked naturally pleasing to the eye regardless of gender. The right height and weight, distance of shoulders, hips... He was perfect and looked slightly taller than Siro.

Miro wore blue beads and was diminutive in stature but not in energy. He bounced with a bubbly excitement that was infectious. He was slim and trim, almost built like an otter but there was muscle under that coiled body. I'd seen plenty of men like him on ships, the kind who had bodies of real strength and weren't working to show off definition. I wondered just how strong he was.

Introductions were quick, Miro and Oro shaking our hands and then giving us each a hug before picking up our luggage and loading them into carriages. I stepped in after Siro and Tin quickly slipped in and sat down next to me. Oro and Miro came in and squeezed in on Siro's side, smiling.

"My letters reach you both?" Siro said as the carriage moved. I was already peering out the window, amazed at the city but kept one ear turned toward the brothers.

Miro nodded with a grin. "You're just staying for a little while but your friends Simon King and Quintin Sullivan are to be treated as honored guests at the Arc."

"The Arc?" I said and looked at Siro. "You named the club here 'Arc-en-ciel' as well?"

Siro grinned. "Je ne l'ai pas fait. Je l'ai appelé en espagnol pour 'arc-en-ciel.'" Siro always liked using French with me. I was always rusty and it took me moments to come up with a response. Frustrated, I just shook my head.

"So what is Spanish for 'rainbow'?"

"Arcoíris," Oro answered with a smile. "Hence, Arc."

"I am told it is quite beautiful," Siro said as he looked at me. "You should feel right at home."

That made my ears turn red. "Siro, you know I'm not, you know, going to be working at the club, right?" I felt Tin straighten up and felt him glare at Siro.

"I know, Simon," the white wolf said with a chuckle. "But you are going to be treated comfortably. All that I ask is, if you meet men of our persuasion, you let them know about the club." Siro pointed a finger at Tin and grinned wolfishly. "And your tiger walks around without his shirt on as much as possible."

"Oh, yes, yes!" Miro said with a wag and clapping his hands together. "Though won't people think he's working for us?"

"He may make some money just letting men slip bills into his pants," Oro added.

Tin growled and clenched his teeth together tightly. "I am not a whore, ya hear? And neither is Simon. We ain't working for you, we got our own things to do!"

At the explosion the three brothers laughed. They loved provoking responses, it appeared. "Don't worry, Quintin," Siro assured, "you are not going to be asked to do anything but the odd, non-sexual chore here and there. Fair?"

Tin grumbled a rumble of acceptance and sat back, arms crossed. I noticed his ears were flushed. He was still bashful about being so openly homosexual.

The new Arc was in a white stone building with pillars along the outside with three stories of windows. It stood out more than the Arc in New York, but then so much here seemed to stand out.

Tin climbed out of the carriage and gave the three brothers a wary look. I stretched my arms a little bit and looked up at the sky. "Tin, do you mind if I just breathe in some fresh air and stretch my legs? I promise I won't wander off."

The tiger frowned but nodded. "Just don't go doing something stupid. You know he's here in this city too. The last thing I want is a random run-in on the street."

He stopped talking when Miro curled his arm around his. "Come on, Mr. Sullivan. I'll show you to your rooms. You and Simon will be very comfortable there."

I saw Tin give me a look that said help me but I smiled and just waved him off. When the two disappeared inside the building, I sighed and breathed in the fresh air.

Everything felt so good. A pang of sadness did hit me as I thought about Fiz and Rut. I missed them terribly. In the time we had spent together, they had both gotten hurt to help me and then ended up growing closer to me than I ever expected. Rut had promised that once he was mended he would be on the way with Fiz. It could just take several weeks or months depending on how long his ribs took to heal, let alone if they had anything they needed to do with Renaldo.

I was thinking about the time we went to the park together when I heard some commotion from down the road. I looked over and I saw a kid being pushed out of the doorway, a door that led into the Arc. A wolf boy. A badger had him by the arms, looking angry.

"Beat it, kid!" the man shouted as he pushed the boy, who fell forward onto the ground.

I could tell he worked for Siro. He was wearing a nice shirt and silk sash around his waist that Siro insisted his employees wore when they worked. He said he liked people to be able to know, at a glance, who was a customer and who was an employee.

I rushed over and shouted, "Hey!"

The badger looked over at me and blinked. "What? You got a problem or something, boy?"

"If I see ye tossin' a kid 'round like that again, I'll make sure yer breathin' through a new hole in your neck, ya kin?" I growled, standing between him and the kid, letting my accent come out in full.

"Oho, we got His Majesty here, eh?" the badger sneered, and looked down at the kid. "Listen, Your Highness, we got our orders to keep kids outta the Arc. That means him. He was trying to work here. Oro would tan my hide."

"I'm not a kid!" the boy shouted, getting up on his feet.

I put my hand up between them and stepped between them again, glaring up at the badger. "I dun care what yer orders are, ya hear? You do that again and you won't have a chance to do it a third time. He comes 'round again you fetch me, I'm staying here for the time bein'."

The badger looked ready to say something but I stepped closer and didn't blink. I remembered what Fiz had told me -- don't back down if you're going to get in a fight. Act like you're the strongest man in the world.

"Whatever," the badger finally said. He waved his hand and stepped away.

I sighed and turned around, holding my hand down toward the wolf. He was a certain species of wolf that I had never seen before. He would later tell me that he was a Mexican Gray, which explained his sandy and golden coloring. It was easily some of the most beautiful fur patterns I'd ever seen on a wolf.

"Thank you, sir," the wolf said, dusting off his rump, glaring at the doorway the badger had vanished into.

"Don't mention it." I was back to speaking like an American. I cleared my throat. "You in a spot of trouble or something?"

"Just need work. And I heard this place makes a lot of money."

"It does, but do you know what goes on in there?"

"Buggery," the boy said with a grin, the same grin I used to get when I said things aloud I knew weren't right. "And other things."

Who was this kid? I couldn't help but smirk when I asked, "And you're okay with that?"

"Money's money," the boy said with a shrug.

I sighed a little bit and shook my head. "No, trust me, that's..." I paused. "You know what, are you hungry?"

The wolf looked up at me curiously and tilted his head to the side. "What's it gonna cost me?"

"How about you tell me more about the city. Deal?"

He thought for a few seconds then said, "Fine. But I want two portions."

I laughed. This kid reminded me of...well, me. In my younger days as a chimney sweep back in London.

...God, I'm getting old.