Chapter XVII: Images of a story
Two more episodes of the animated series passed, but Aran was not really paying attention. Besides that he was getting a bit drowsy, he also caught his mind wandering off to very divergent places. Various events and people crossed his mind. Recent events, like Mike getting caught and the failed drug deal with Mason, but also people that had not had a direct influence on his life for the most recent years.
The thought of people that paid no real attention to the wolf, while they must have known that he was suffering from his home situation. This brought his mind to his parents, how they divorced, how his mother did not appear to care for him. Inevitably, Aran's father came into the picture.
As if he could physically fend off these thoughts, the wolf made a firm pushing gesture, telling himself that this would help to get rid of the bad memories. He tried to think of something else, going back further in time to someone he lost earlier.
Damian, the good-hearted jackal. Always full of mischief and never out of ideas for playing. The canine made up his own games and was a natural at devising challenging games with simple rules. Whether they were on the playground, in the backyard or in his room, the jackal never seemed to be out of ideas. Aran could not remember that he had ever been bored while he was in Damian's company, not once.
Boredom was what hit the wolf straight in the muzzle when the jackal moved away, though. Not only was Damian a good friend, he was Aran's only friend for many years. The wolf could have been better off if he had more friends, but he never felt alone when he and Damian were still living close together.
The move was nearly unannounced. Damian's father had gotten a promotion that required him to move on a short term, and even though he knew this, the jackal informed his son fairly late about the event that would change his young life.
In the years that followed, Aran became increasingly withdrawn from his parents. He did have some acquaintances, but nobody to call a friend, until he met that certain brown bear. His real name was Mikaïl, but he preferred to call himself Mike.
The bear was the child of two immigrants from the northern neighboring country that had come looking for a job. Since Mike was a minor back then, he had moved with his parents. It was almost as if fate had played an ironic joke. Aran had lost a friend because said friend moved away, while Mike had moved away from everyone he had known himself.
They had met each other in the tenth grade and became close friends. Bears tend to share their lives with only a few people, but those they allow to come near will not be disappointed. They are not solitary, but they just thrive in smaller groups. Whether the group is made up out of other bears or not is irrelevant.
Being a wolf, Aran felt empathic for Mike. Wolves are less solitary than bears, but Aran had spent six lonely years without any friends. Some would say they had a click, others would call it chemistry. In the end, they became partners in crime - first figuratively, but later literally so.
When Aran complained about his home situation to his friend, the bear told him about the apartment he would be renting as soon as he would graduate from high school. The wolf was more than grateful when Mike invited him to share the apartment so Aran could break free from his mother.
It did not take the wolf very long to make a decision. Leaving his parental home would mean abandoning the place of his mother's indifference and his father's physical abuse. Maybe he could start over together with his best friend.
Unfortunately, Aran did not get very far. After almost three years, he had had a few part-time jobs that did not yield enough money to pay for the rent. He and Mike split that cost, of course, but they had a hard time finding a decent job. Both of them had only finished high school and did not attend any specialized education, which severely diminished their chances on the labor market.
The situation changed when Chris showed up at their place one night. The weasel was one of Mike's acquaintances and he had a job offer. The job itself, however, was all but legal. After the first success, both the wolf and the bear grew hungry for more. Not only did their illegal practices produce more than enough money to pay their rent, it also supplied the two friends with an almost addictive dose of adrenaline.
Aran's train of thought was disrupted when Jennifer entered the room and turned the television off. The wolf had not even noticed that the fourth and last episode on the disc had ended and that he had been staring at a blank screen for quite some time.
"Are you all right, little one?" she asked.
He furiously shook his head, as if he had been asleep, then looked at his caregiver.
"I guess. As long as I don't feel like I'm on fire, it's better than what I woke up with."
"That's not the same as feeling all right," Jennifer said, petting his head. "Apart from the pain, is there any other effect you experience? Kaiser requested that I'd ask you about side effects."
"I'm a bit drowsy, that's all."
The collie smiled, picking up the stuffed husky from the floor and handing it back to her charge.
"I can carry you upstairs for a nap," she suggested.
"Please don't," he rejected. "Going downstairs was awful enough and I don't feel like sleeping anyway. It's like I'm too sleepy to pay attention, but too awake to actually sleep."
"So we're looking for a 'quiet time'-activity," Jennifer thought aloud. "How about you draw me something nice?"
"Drawing? Really?"
"Kaiser's report mentioned that you've drawn quite a lot before your parents divorced."
"The keyword here being 'before'. After my folks split up, I've drawn only a pawful of pictures. I've tried to pick up a pencil again when I moved out, even charcoal, but I can't do it anymore."
"Come on, pup, a talent doesn't disappear overnight, does it?"
"Maybe not, maybe it does. You don't know what it's like to stare at a blank sheet of paper for two hours and still be physically and mentally unable to draw anything."
"Was it that bad?"
Aran nodded.
"I even tried to draw during or shortly after I tripped on ursaurine, but even that didn't help. Mike suggested other drugs, but I wasn't even fully comfortable with the steroids yet."
"I see. Well, you're in a different place and a different environment now. Besides, I don't have charcoal, but I do have crayons for you. Maybe a change of material will help you."
The wolf sighed.
"To be honest, I really don't feel like drawing. It seems like it's not really doing anything for me anymore."
"Then do it for me," Jennifer encouraged resolutely. "Please?"
Aran hesitated for a moment, but then gave in. The collie replied with a hug, careful not to squeeze the stuffed husky between them.
"Do you know where to find the crayons?"
"Yush, I came across them yesterday when I was looking for toys."
"Good. I don't expect you to create a masterpiece, but I'd really appreciate it if you drew me something."
"That's the problem, I don't even know what to draw," the wolf replied, scratching his right temple.
"Just hold onto the first image that comes to your mind. Every piece of art tells a story, whether you understand that story or not. Good luck, pup, and enjoy yourself," she encouraged once more, then she left the playroom.
Somewhat reluctantly, Aran got up from the beanbag chair and slowly walked over to the toy boxes, opening the one that contained drawing equipment.