Hey there, folks! I hope you are all doing well. It has been a long time since I wrote something in this journal. Well, let us blow the dust off with a little life update.
My final year at High School began a few days ago. It is a strange feeling, knowing that I won't see this school again after this year. Well, at least, not as a student. It feels like it was yesterday when Mr. Wertenson gave us a tour of the high school part of Seppala High and Middle School. But in fact, it was already more than two years ago. Since our High School here takes three years instead of four, I will hopefully graduate in Summer 2025. And if everything works out, I will be a college student next August. I hope so much for a spot at STARK College. Because if I get one, I will go there with Nikki for an entire year, until she graduates with her master in theater education and applied theater. I am so proud of her. I cannot say it often enough, she is the best girl I can imagine.
But this should only be a small side note here, let us move on.
Last week, on Monday evening, my mom received a surprising call from Darwin's Hope Channel 1, or DHC 1 for short, which is a local TV station. It is, in fact, the biggest television station our city has, known primarily for news broadcasts, talk shows, but also for history and nature documentaries.
Well, they called right after mom came home from work, as she just sat down on our couch with a cup of coffee. Mom usually turns on the speaker, especially during longer calls. I was sitting next to her, so I could hear the entire conversation, and not only what my mother said. I heard a silent growl coming from her, as mom answered the call.
“Christa Star, who am I talking to?” She asked. The voice on the other end was a woman's, sounding calm and friendly. “Hello, Mrs. Star. My name is Michelle Cunning, I am calling in the name of DHC 1.” Mom obviously was annoyed by this disturbance of her well-earned evening.
“Hello, Mrs. Cunning. Why are you calling me?” Luckily, this Mrs. Cunning, came straight to the point. Mom hates it if you talk to her for a long time without actually saying anything worth listening to. “Mrs. Star, I am calling because we want to invite you to 'Inside Darwin's Hope'. Currently, we have our focus on the women living in our town. One of our employees suggested you after you helped him find a new apartment a while ago. Would you be interested in taking part in our upcoming show this Saturday, and if yes, can I ask you a few questions?”
Mom really seemed to be interested in this, what came as a bit of a surprise to me. She replied, after she leaned back on the sofa: “I am familiar with that show. I watch it often during housework on Saturday and Sunday. I would be interested, and you can ask your questions, but keep it short, please. The day was long.”
And so, Mrs. Cunning began to ask her questions: “Thank you so much, Mrs. Star. First, can you tell me when and where you were born?” Mom answered after a brief pause. “I was born in 1981, here in Darwin's Hope.” The next question followed. “Great. Say, do you have kids?” Mom turned her head towards me. I couldn't resist smiling at her, causing her to smile back, while she replied: “Yes, I have a 16-year-old son. He is currently attending Seppala High.”
It went silent for a moment. We could only hear someone typing something. The next question was a critical one.
“That is perfect for the show. If I am allowed to ask, is your son's father still around?” I watched my mother's reaction to this question closely. I expected her to hang up now, but she only sighed and answered calmly: “No, my husband isn't around anymore. Do you have any other questions?”
Mrs. Cunning luckily knew better than to ask further about my father. Her next question was less critical: “Ok, you mentioned that you just came home from work. As I said before, we got your number from one of our employees. The business card he gave us had the logo of Michael Kofi's company Dream Homes on it. Are you still working for that company?”
Mom suppressed a yawn before answering: “Yes, I do. I have been working there as a real estate agent for Dream Homes in the Lamarck District since January 2023.”
It took Mrs. Cunning a moment to reply: “Interesting. Say, do you know Michael Kofi personally?”
For those who don't it from my other entries, Michael Kofi is Nikki's grandfather. He offered mom this job after we celebrated Christmas 2022 at their home. Most of you might know by now that the name Kofi has some serious weight in our town, at least here in our District.
My mother smiled after she heard that question. It isn't common for her to brag about knowing Mr. Kofi senior. Or the Kofi family in general. But since Mrs. Cunning asked about it, she answered, not without pride in her voice: “Yes, I do. In fact, we are close friends with the entire Kofi family. My son Balto even is in a serious relationship with Michael Kofi's granddaughter.”
Once more, it went silent on the other end. Mom already wanted to hang up, as we finally heard Mrs. Cunning's voice again. “This sounds great. I just spoke with my supervisor. He would be happy to welcome you here. Would you be able to come to the studio this Saturday at twelve?”
Mom looked at me, like she wanted to hear my opinion. I just shrugged my shoulders, didn't know what to say. After a minute of thinking, she replied: “Gladly. Oh, Mrs. Cunning, say, can I bring a friend?”
Once more, silence. Perhaps Mrs. Cunning had to speak with her supervisor again, before she replied: “Of course. But he or she would have to sit in the audience.” Mom nodded. “That would be ok. Well, we see each other on Saturday then. Can you please send me the address to my email?” Michelle quickly answered: “Of course. How is the address?” Mom leaned back on the sofa and said, after she suppressed a yawn: “I thought you had my business card. But ok, the address is christa.star@dreamhomes.com.”
We heard how Mrs. Cunning typed the address into a computer. “Ok, got it. I will send you everything needed to that address. We are excited to meet you, Mrs. Star. Have a wonderful week and we will see you on Saturday.”
Before mom could answer, we heard the free tone. My mother sighed. I cuddled myself close to her, then we watched a few episodes of the Mentalist. A brilliant man who solves cases with intelligence instead of weapons, which is why it is one of my favorite shows.
Before I went to bed that evening, I heard how mom called Asha, Nikki's mom, to tell her about her plan to take part in this TV show. Asha thought it would be a good idea to promote herself a bit, and that maybe her experiences could also help other single mothers in similar situations. To be honest, her opinion on this surprised me a bit. I didn't want to say anything, since mom seemed to like the idea. I was somewhat concerned that they just invited her to make fun out of her, like it is common in many few talk shows. But ok, that one is a bit different, the guest usually talks alone with the host, there are no other guests besides the audience. The audience is sometimes allowed to ask questions after the host is done with her or his script, which is often the best part. At least, it was the best part of the few shows I have seen so far.
After a brief talk on the phone, Asha agreed to accompany my mom to the studio. A good thing, if you ask me. Mom also wanted Mr. Kofi, I mean, Idrissa, damn, it is still new to me calling him by his first name, to come with them. But Nikki's dad already had other plans. He and some people from his old army unit had organized a little meeting. As usual, they held their meeting at our cabin by Spaulding Lake, so Nikki and I weren't able to go there that weekend. Sure, that sucked, but we had the entire house here for ourselves, that was also nice.
While I am sitting here in my room and typing this, I see the leaves falling outside. I must say, I can't wait for the winter. This year, I really want to decorate the cabin for Christmas. You should see how lovely it is out there when the snow falls. It is so quiet and peaceful. I mean, besides Nikki's constant complaining about the temperature whenever I dare to open a window. But let us move on.
It saddened me a bit that mom didn't ask Nikki and me to come with her. I guess she simply wanted to keep us out of the spotlight. Or simply protect us from the boredom those shows usually are.
Mom mostly watches them during homework, more as some kind of background noise. Honestly, I have to admit that they sporadically have interesting topics, especially if they discuss certain news in our town with local politicians and celebrities, new store openings or other news about our town. They once even mentioned our theater group during a broadcast about the big charity concert in the Thunderdome in October 2022.
As mentioned before, their current topic is 'Women of Darwin's Hope'. This was further explained in the email Jessica wrote to my mother later that evening. Besides this information about the show, we found the usual disclaimers, contact info, and most important, the address of the studio in the Mendel District. This District is located in the north of our city. According to my navigation app, the address isn't far away from STARK College.
Later that evening, after I went to bed, I tried to figure out why mom agreed to this. It wasn't common for her to do such a thing. Maybe it has something to do with her job, and she wanted to use this show as an advertising platform. I never asked her for the reason she did it, I was just happy for her. Mom deserves attention, as she is simple the best.
I won't bother you with the rest of the week at this point, it was a rather common time at school, full of learning, homework, and, even if the year had just begun, preparations for the final exams. It appears to me that they really want everyone to pass them. It is a kind of prestige for the Seppala High because so far, there has not been a single student who has not passed. You can imagine how much homework they give us, and how high the pressure on us students currently is.
But this isn’t the topic for now. I mostly write this to have a little distraction from my schoolbooks. And, of course, to give you, my friends, an update about our lives, as the last entry was written a while ago.
After a long week full of studies, we reached Saturday morning. I swear, by the end of the week, I even dreamed about those stupid books. I always loved school, but this year already sucks harder than, no. Let us try to keep this entry family friendly for a change.
We had to write a lot of stuff, my right hand still hurts a bit. Good that Nikki didn't want me to do things with her during the last couple of days. My back isn't much better, those benches at school are a pure horror. I could use a good, long massage. Maybe Nikki is up for a visit to the spa tomorrow.
I am drifting away again, sorry. Mom left the house early in the morning, I think it was around 8:00, as I heard the door in our kitchen that leads to our garage. It is a heavy security door, and it is pretty loud if you are not careful with closing it. No matter how hard I tried afterward, I wasn't able to fall asleep again. I stood up and moved to the kitchen to make myself some cocoa. It still is my favorite drink. With three marshmallows on top, and I was good to go. It was a warm morning, which is why I didn't bother with getting dressed. I mean, we have fur, plus I was all by myself. I spent the next few hours with watching TV, drinking my cocoa, and playing games on my mobile. It was half past three in the afternoon, as I heard someone in front of our main door. I turned around on the sofa and hid behind the backrest, my eyes fixed on the door. A key was inserted into the lock. Slowly, the door opened. And then… Nikki! I jumped over the backrest and took my somehow surprised girl into my arms, pressing her against me.
With my tail happily wagging, I shouted: “Nikki! I didn't expect you so early today.” My beloved girl looked at me with her big, purple eyes, like she would wonder why I didn't expect her. It took her a minute until she replied: “Doggy, didn't your mom tell you that I wanted to come over and watch her show with you? Now let me in, and can you please make me coffee? I barely had any sleep, I learned all night. Hurry now, Fluffy. We don't want to miss a single second, do we? I also messaged grandpa and grandma, they will watch, too.”
After I let go of Nikki, she made herself comfortable on the couch, while I prepared some fresh coffee for her. Luckily, we have a fully automatic coffee maker since mom got her new job. A few minutes later, with a filled cup in one, sugar in my other hand, and the whole milk in my muzzle, I slowly walked back to the couch. My appearance made Nikki laugh, as she turned her head to me. My girl quickly stood up to help me before I could drop something. Nikki turned on the TV, after we sat down next to each other. The show started punctually at 4 o'clock. It began with the camera moving over the audience, where we, in the glimpse of a second, discovered Nikki's mom sitting in the first row. Next, the host, a middle-aged lady-fox named Jessica Charleston, came into the picture.
Jessica was standing in front of the studio audience, behind her was an oversized, semicircular sofa, and a coffee table with two glasses of water on it. She wished her audience and the viewers a good afternoon, before she made a few steps and stopped right in front of this sofa. During a brief moment that lady was shown from behind, Nikki mumbled: “Foxy has a great ass for her age.” I gave my cheetah a stern look, then I turned my head back to the TV. Nikki giggled while she laid down next to me, with her head resting on my legs. We then heard how Jessica began to talk. “My dear audience, and ladies and gentlemen watching us from home, we will start right away with today's topic. My guest on this wonderful day is Christa Star, a mother living in the Lamarck District of Darwin's Hope. Good afternoon, Christa. Thank you for coming.”
The audience knocked on a small plate fixed to the armrests of their seats, while the camera moved over to my mother, as she entered the stage.
Maybe I should explain the knocking here, for those who aren't familiar with Anthro anatomy. Our hands may look a lot like human hands, but other than those, ours are covered in fur. Just like an animal's paw. For that reason, we Anthros barely clap our hands. You can barely hear it, which is why we prefer knocking on something to show our consent or to applaud someone. I know that I mentioned this during one of my earlier entries to this journal, but that was very long ago, and maybe not every one of you remembers that. Let us move on.
With gentle smiles on their faces, Mom and Jessica shook hands. I must say that my mother's white fur never looked better. Not that it ever looked bad, but it was extra shiny that day. Nikki guessed that they styled her before the show, just like they do it with Nikki's ahead of one of her model shootings.
During their handshake, mom replied to the show's host: “Hello, Jessica. I thank you for the invitation,” my mother said to the fox, before they sat down next to each other on this big sofa. Jessica leaned back to get more comfortable, while my mother seemed to be a bit nervous in front of those cameras.
Jessica now started the conversation: “Christa, I heard that you lived your entire life here in Darwin's Hope?” “Yes, that is true,” my mother replied as calm as her nervousness let her. Jessica nodded with a smile. “You don't have to be nervous, Christa. That sounds like you have been here for a long time, at least much longer than me. During the past weeks, I have spoken to many women about how safe they feel in our city. Many of them said that they feel unsafe, especially during the night, since they hear so much about the raising crime rates. Some even say that they don't want to have children in a town where robbery and murder are in the news daily. What is your opinion on that matter?” The camera moved to my mom, who shook her head. “If it comes to the rate of crime, my opinion is that the town isn't much different from how it was while I grew up here in the 80s. The major difference is that today, because of social media and all that, we are getting bombarded with breaking news and information. and unfortunately, negative news spread much faster, often like a wildfire. On the contrary, good news are sadly often overlooked by the media, same for the broadcasters, or influencers, as they are called today. Bad stuff always generated more clicks, as I have learned. Take the charity concert we had here in the Thunderdome in October 2022 as an example. It was an outstanding success, but I have seen almost no reports about it. Not on the TV, nor in the newspapers. If they wrote or talked about it, it was rarely more than just a side note. What I see every day are news about war, politicians talking nonsense, sports, and the weather. In my eyes, it is a shame. There are so many beautiful things no one talks about, what results in the peoples are getting a false picture of how things are.”
Knocking could be heard from the audience. Mom was absolutely right, and what she said there are undoubtedly the reasons why I don't like it to watch the news or read anything in a newspaper besides the pages with the comics.
On screen, it was Jessica's turn again. “I remember that concert you just mentioned, it was a blast. Especially the cantina. Never had such good food in the Thunderdome before. And I loved how this little boy ended the event with those lines of Shakespeare. He was so cute in that green dress. I also loved his voice.”
I could hardly resist showing Nikki my tongue when we heard Jessica's words. A grin appeared on my face, but as Nikki touched my cheek, it disappeared and was replaced by a goofy smile, making Nikki laugh.
You could hear the pride in my mother's voice as she replied to Jessica: “Well, Jessica, this boy actually was my son. The costume he was wearing that day was made by my friend Asha and me for a play in New York City. The theater group he plays in was chosen to perform in a contest there, which they even won at the end. They performed a version of William Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' in which Balto played the role of Puck. I cannot tell you how proud I was of my son that day.”
Nikki looked up at me, then at her, by now cold, cup of coffee on the table. She didn't make any efforts to get up, instead we continued to watch the interview. Jessica seemed impressed by what my mom had just told her. “That was your son? How sweet, I can imagine how proud you must have been that day. Christa, according to my notes, you are a single mother. Was Balto a planned cub, or an accident? Did his father leave you?”
Nikki and I gasped, as we both thought mom would freak out after a question like that and leave the studio. But she only took a deep breath. “My husband Sebastian died shortly before our son was born. He would have never left us on purpose. From the day we were sure our boy could hear us, he refused going to bed without us reading him a bedtime story. He was so excited of becoming a father.” Jessica was speechless for a moment, as if she knew that she stepped into a minefield with her question. But she had a show to host, so she asked further: “I am so sorry, Christa. Although, if you allow me to ask, how did your husband die? Was he sick?”
It was barely visible, but I swear I saw how mom lifted her lips a bit, and her teeth showed for a second. She sighed, before she replied in a serious tone: “Sebastian worked for the DHPD. It was a rainy night in September 2007, as he received a call for backup. His shift was already over that day, but he wanted to help. He gave me a kiss, caressed my belly, wished our unborn son a good night, and went out into the dark. That was the last time I saw him alive. Hours later, two of his colleagues came to our house, with his hat and other personal belongings in their hands. They told me what had happened. My world was shuttered. I collapsed, cried, and didn't know what to do. Lucky for me, I have good friends, who came over at the same moment they noticed the police car in our driveway. Balto was born only days later. My friends and neighbors, together with their little daughter Nicole, were always there for me. I had postpartum depression, wasn't able to take proper care of my son. They stayed with me, slept in my house, helped me with everything. It must have been during this time that Nicole and Balto formed an unbreakable bond.”
Mom took a sip from her glass of water. The entire studio audience was silent, like they would wait for my mother to continue. Jessica also didn't say anything for quite some time, until she tried to continue the conversation: “This sounds so sad and heartbreaking, but at the same time, it proves that there are still good people in this world. Tell me, Christa, your son and Nicole, are they still such close friends?” Mom nodded. “Yes, they are. In fact, they have been engaged since last December.”
Jessica seemed a bit irritated by this. “Christa, you said before that your son was born in 2007, which means he is 16 now, right? Isn't that a bit early to get engaged? How old is Nicole, if I am allowed to ask?”
Mom shrugged her shoulders. “Nicole is 21 by now and attends STARK College. Yes, I can imagine what you are thinking. But believe me, it is fine. During the last couple of years, they proved often enough what they feel for each other. They belong together. And, as I know she is watching right now, I couldn't wish for a better daughter-in-law than her.”
A hearable mumbling could be heard from the studio audience, which even became louder every second. Jessica looked at my mom with a questioning expression in her face. “21, you say?” The fox asked while she calculated a little. “That means she is 5 years older than Balto. Didn't that cause any problems? I can imagine that people looked a bit strange at them in the past.” Mom shook her head. “No, they didn't. During the first years, the two hid their relationship in public. And now, since Balto grown bigger, no one even sees the age difference anymore. But Jessica, maybe we can change the topic. I don't feel comfortable talking about Balto and Nicole so publicly without them being around.”
Mom clearly became a bit nervous, something Jessica also noticed. “Of course, Christa. I can imagine that it wasn't always easy for you, seeing your son making his first love experience at such a young age. Something different now, as this might be interesting for a part of our audience. How was it to raise Balto without having a father figure for him?”
Mom smiled slightly. “Who says that he didn't have a father figure? Idrissa, who was always a close friend to my husband and me, took that role more than willingly. He taught my boy many things about what really matters in life, and he still does. He always has an open ear for him in case of a problem I can't help him with.”
The lady fox seemed to try somehow to get my mom to talk about more personal stuff. “You mean like sex? I can imagine how hard it might be for a son to talk about that topic with his mother.”
Mom growled a bit. “My son never had a problem speaking with me about his body and sex in general. But for some things, it can be better to ask another man.”
The fox seemed now that she wanted to provoke mom. “Didn't Nicole's father ever had problems with his daughter being in a relationship with a much younger boy?”
Mom shook her head. She clearly didn't want to answer that question. “That is something you should better ask him personally.”
Jessica nodded. But she wasn't done asking about the Kofis. A sip of water later, the fox asked: “Ok, I understand that you don't want to say anything on his behalf. Besides, I am sorry if my questions make you feel uncomfortable, Christa. If you allow me, I would like to ask one more thing about Nicole's parents.”
Mom looked stern at the host. “It is ok. Ask, and then I decide if I will answer it without Idrissa and Asha being here.”
My mother's gaze seemed to be a bit intimidating to the fox, as Jessica asked: “Well, you mentioned the name Idrissa a few times. I cannot help myself, but are we talking about Idrissa Kofi?”
That was the first time Nikki's family name was mentioned in this interview. The audience mumbled again, while my mom looked at the people sitting there, searching for Asha. At least, I think she did. Half a minute passed until mom replied: “Yes, that is correct, just like I told the girl who called me on Monday. But let me make one thing clear before someone tries to form a scandal out of this. Balto's and Nicole's relationship is one hundred percent legal, and it was like that from the beginning.”
Jessica now clearly knew that she had to be cautious with her choice of words. Mom not only sounded a bit angry, she also looked like it. For that reason, the fox tried to calm her down. “Ok, Christa, I am sorry. It wasn't my intention to anger you. My secretary seemed to have forgotten writing down this info for me. But anyway, such details are always interesting for our viewers. Especially if it comes to one of the most prominent families our town has.”
Mom's voice still sounded serious as she answered to Jessica. “The Kofi's sure are a prominent family. Everyone who knows them knows how kind-hearted they all are, beginning with Michael Kofi himself, and ending with Nicole. I will never accept that anyone talks badly about them in my presence.”
The red-pelted host now tried to de-escalate. “Ok, I think we should turn back to our original topic now, if that is ok for you, Christa.”
Mom only nodded. “Ok, how was is to raise a son in this economy? Can you tell us something about your job?”
My mother sighed. Finally, this fox stopped trying to provoke her. “Well, Jessica, I used to work in the city hall for years. I was a secretary in the financial bureau. It was a nice job, but the working hours were long, the drive there every morning wasn't a pleasant thing to do and took me almost two hours per day. For the payment, hm, it was ok, I guess. Not much, but Balto and I managed to get through somehow. That the house my son and I live in belongs to us helped a bit, too, as we didn't have to fear a constantly raising rent. From my current job, I know how hard that is for many young families.”
Jessica leaned back on the sofa. “Indeed. Who are you working for now, Christa?” Mom smiled for the first time in a while. “I work for Michael Kofi's housing association, Dream Homes, as an estate agent and property manager.”
A murmur went through the audience, while Jessica looked at mom. “You work for Michael Kofi?”
Mom knew what was about to come, so she decided to take the wind out of Jessica's sails before the fox could say anything. “I know what you and most viewers might think now. Undoubtedly, he most likely offered me this job only because of Balto's relationship with his granddaughter. I am not afraid to admit this. That is how things work, regardless of it is fair or not. Besides that, our families were close for many, many years before our kids became a couple. Sebastian, my husband, and Idrissa have been best friends since High School. The same goes for me and Asha, Idrissa's wife. We even life door to door since, let me think, more than twenty years. What I want to say is that I know how lucky I am to have such outstanding friends.”
A short pause followed, during which mom looked at the audience again. “Friends that I would go through hell for without even thinking about it.” A loud “aww” could be heard from the audience.
Jessica moved a bit closer to my mother, placing her hand on hers. “I can understand that very well, Christa. I won't judge you for taking advantage of opportunities that arise. Everyone would do the same in your situation.”
The camera then moved closer to Jessica before she continued. “But to get back to the topic we started with, the crime rate in Darwin's Hope. According to our police. capital crimes like murder, manslaughter, and aggravated robbery have decreased for years. What raised in numbers are crimes like break-in and robbery. Christa, did you experience any raise in crime in your area?”
Moms shook her head. The blonde ponytail she had tied her long, blond hair into moved from one side to the other. “No, I didn't.” She couldn't continue, as someone in the studio audience interrupted her by shouting: “You should spend a few days in Dawkins then, you privileged bitch!”
Jessica turned her head. In a serious voice, she addressed the lady in the audience, who was standing there with an angry expression on her face. This lady was a German Shepard, a bit thick, but not that bad looking. “Please, be calm, and sit back down, ma'am.”
The Lady followed this command. Nikki sighed and mumbled, “Too bad, I would have loved to see your mom tear her apart. This interview is a bit boring.” I had to agree. “Yeah, sadly. But besides that, mom is doing a good job.”
In the studio, the audience fell silent, which enabled Jessica to continue. “Ok, I am sorry. This is a very emotional topic for some.”
Mom agreed. “I know. During my work for Dream Homes, I met several clients from Dawkins and also from the Venter District. wanting to move into Lamarck. On those occasions, I heard many sad stories about the sometimes horrible situations, starting with the school situation in Dawkins. To this day, there is no school there. All the kids have to visit schools in other districts, what can be challenging for the parents, to say the least.”
Again, the voice of the lady before could be heard from the audience: “You have absolutely no idea how the situation is!”
Jessica turned around, angered by those interruptions. “Please, stop this, or I have to call security.” To Nikki's and my surprise, mom stepped in: “Please, Jessica, maybe this lady would like to join us. It might be interesting to hear about the situation from her point of view.”
Jessica had to think, but she then really invited the lady to join the talk. And the Shepard lady followed the invitation. As soon as she reached the stage, Jessica greeted her with a handshake. “Welcome. Maybe you can introduce yourself to us.”
The lady took a deep breath. “I am Rosanne Boseman, and I have been living in the Dawkins District for almost 20 years, and I am a single mother of an 18-year-old son.” Jessica replied with a bit of a forced smile: “Hello, Rosanne, maybe we sit down and talk a bit. Your experiences will surely be interesting for our viewers.”
The camera moved a bit, showing my mom standing up from the sofa, reaching her hand to Mrs. Boseman. The Shepard-Lady didn't take it, just sat down on the opposite side of the sofa. After an additional glass was brought from backstage, the show could go on. Jessica asked: “So, Rosanne. Maybe you tell us a bit more about you and your family first. You just said you are a single mother. What happened to your son's father?”
Mrs. Boseman still had an expression on her face like she wanted to put on a fight with mom every time she looked at her. The answer also sounded hostile: “That idiot left me a few years ago, for a whore he had an affair with for years.” Jessica and mom both nodded, before the host continued: “Horrible. Say, Rosanne, what are you doing for a living?”
Mrs. Boseman replied after another stern look at my mom. “I work in a clothing factory and as a waitress in a restaurant. I never had the luck working in a fancy office.”
Everyone could feel the tense atmosphere just by watching the show. Especially the way this Rosanna continuously looked at my mom frightened me. Nikki couldn't resist mentioning that this would be typical for a talk show, she even suggested that this whole thing was a staged event to keep the show interesting. Jessica, even if she knew about this from the start, continued like a pro and tried her best to keep the situation calm.
She asked another question to Mrs. Boseman. “Tell us, Rosanna, how was it raising a cub in Dawkins?” The Shepard-lady replied in an angered tone: “How it was? Raising a cub in this damn ghetto was a nightmare! In our area, we have so many construction sites which will never be finished, the rent in my apartment building is raising permanently without any reason. I have two jobs, but I can barely pay my bills. The same moment, I see those Mexicans living their best live without even thinking of work. Everything is handed to them. As said, my stupid husband left me for an even more stupid whore from Mendel. He never paid a single cent for his son ever since. We don't have any schools in our area, the closest ones are in the Venter and Lamarck Districts. Because of my jobs, I barely had time to take care of my son during the last couple of years. I still tried my best to raise him well, to make him strong, and thought him not to take bullshit from anyone. A few years ago, the Seppala Middle School in Lamarck threw him out, after some brat claimed that my son had thrown him into a dumpster during a break. It's all lies, this stupid kid certainly climbed in there himself, so he could go home earlier. My son would never do such a thing. But they didn't believe us because we are poor, and I had to look for a new school for my son. Shortly after, he dropped out of school entirely, without a degree, to work in a car workshop. Those assholes there falsely accused him of stealing. And for that reason, he is sitting in jail right now. I can't even afford a lawyer for him. I swear, if I ever get my hands on this stupid brat who got my son thrown out of school, I will punish him for everything he did to my son.”
No one said anything. My mother tried to prevent further eye contact with this angered lady.
I think I have to explain a few things before we move on. This boy Rosanna was talking about, it was me. The events she described happened all the way back in summer 2020. And no, I wasn't lying about it. There were more than enough witnesses around, as this woman's son and his friend pushed me into that dumpster just as I tried to get my mobile back, which they had thrown in there before. Until now, I didn't know what happened to my former classmate after this event.
This surprising reveal saddened me. I sighed loudly, felt guilty. Nikki, of course, heard that. She turned her head to look up at me and said:
“Doggy, don't think that it was your fault. That kid was punished for what he did to you. His mother is blinded by love for her son. She can't see the things how they are. I would recommend getting this boy a good social worker who can help him turn his life around.” With a questioning expressing on my face, I looked at my girl. “A social worker?” I asked her curiously.
Nikki seemed surprised, as she heard my question. “Yes, a social worker. Fluffy,” she answered. “You surprise me. Jail isn't changing people for the better. This boy still has a chance, but not if they put him behind bars. Unfortunately, our justice system is pretty fucked up., especially if you can't afford a good lawyer. Up to a certain point, I can understand this lady.”
Nikki might be right here, just like she is right most of the time. But back in 2020, I was so happy I never had to see that boy and his friend ever again after my involuntary exploration of the insides of the dumpster.
Ok, enough backstory for now. Let us return to the talk show now, we are almost through.
In the studio, mom still tried it to avoid direct eye contact with Mrs. Boseman. I suppose she also remembered what had happened in 2020, that it was me this lady was talking about, and that she didn't want to get into any trouble because of this woman.
A brief pause followed Mrs. Boseman's story, after which Jessica asked mom another question: “Christa, what do you say to this? Doesn't your son also attend Seppala High?”
It took mom a moment to form a proper answer. “Well, this case clearly shows that, even in our city, we have serious problems. Dawkins District was always a problematic area. It is a shame that all attempts to improve it failed so far. Mr. Kofi tried several times to help, but all his attempts to create affordable living space there were doomed to fail so far.”
Mrs. Boseman now began to shout at mom. “Michael Kofi was never interested in helping poor people outside his precious Lamarck district. No one from outside will ever understand our struggle, our daily fight, as they never had to go through our problems, especially not a pampered person like you! We have no schools, no proper healthcare, and to top that, this pesky human scum coming again and again, corrupting our children's minds.” Mom looked at the woman with her warm, understanding eyes. Her voice was calm, as she asked: “Your son wasn't imprisoned just for thievery, right?”
Instead of giving an answer in a proper tone, Mrs. Boseman shouted at mom in a voice filled with hate: “No! After he was expelled from Seppala High, he first went to another school in the Venter District, but soon stepped out of it to work for this car workshop. Those damn humans there used him for their criminal activities, until the police arrested for stealing several cars. All this only happened because of this stupid, pampered liar at Seppala High. I wish him and all his family pain and death! It is all his fault! His and that of these depraved humans.”
Mrs. Boseman jumped off the sofa. She moved closer to my mother, until she was almost nose to nose with her. Both women stared in each other's eyes. Mom still tried to remain calm, as she said: “Mrs. Boseman, it is no one's fault besides his own. We, and we alone, decide our faith. Sure, your son was a victim of circumstances, but still, he always had the choice to do the right thing before it was too late.” Mom moved back a bit, before she continued: “Mrs. Boseman, you experienced a lot of pain, just as I did in the past. Your son was corrupted by people he trusted, maybe even up to a level he couldn’t differ right from wrong anymore, and they betrayed him. But from what I experienced during the last couple of years, I can tell you, not all humans are like that. I met many humans who were more than friendly to us. Let me take our travel to Austria as an example. The people we met there welcomed us with open arms and open hearts. There was a group of teenagers, who even invited us to sing karaoke with them. And before you accuse me again of not knowing how it is to have bad experiences, I tell you something else. My beloved husband Sebastian, he was killed by a human. Shot in the darkness of the night while fulfilling his duty as a cop. For me, the most important thing in such a situation is to never allow hate to let take power over you. And believe me, I know how hard that is. To my shame, I have to admit that I kept this detail a secret from my son for a long time. The reason for this was simple. I feared he would hate all humans for what one individual did. Today, I can proudly say that my son has grown into a young man with a heart full of love and kindness. He found good friends, humans and Anthros alike, whom he can trust. In addition to this, he found passion in a profession I never thought he would be interested in, and, most important, he has a girlfriend who he even asked to become his wife in a year or two.” Mom now leaned forward again, a stern look in Mrs. Boseman's face was enough for the lady to make a step back.
Nikki spoke in a silent voice: “Your mother really has an outstanding level of self-control. Especially after that woman wished us all dead earlier.” I chuckled and replied: “The only time I ever saw Mom lose her cool was in New York, during our first vacation there.”
Nikki stretched her body a bit. “Yeah, I remember that story.” she said. “I wish I could have been there when this human prick wet his pants while Christa bared her teeth.” We both laughed.
On TV, Jessica took the word to de-escalate the situation. “Ok, ok, I think we should all take a deep breath. Please, sit back down, Rosanne.”
Surprisingly, the Shepard-lady followed Jessica’s bid. Jessica then pulled out a couple of cards. “Ok, Christa, Rosanne, our audience was asked to write down some questions before the show, and I would like to ask you to answer some of them, if that is ok for you.” Both women nodded, so Jessica continued. “Ok. The first question. Oh, it's an interesting one, even if we had it in a slightly different form before. Rosanne, maybe we start with you.” Jessica cleared her throat, then she read the first card. “When did you decide that it was the right time to have a kid?”
The Shepard still seemed a bit angered she couldn't provoke my mom. “This decision was taken from me. I was 25, when I met my son's producer. He seemed nice, cared for me. We soon began to have sex, he promised me to be careful, but he wasn't, and soon knocked me up. He said he would care for me, but instead, he started to visit every whore in the District. One day, he disappeared entirely. No notes, nothing. My parents accused me of being a bad wife, never helped me. This is how I ended with a child I didn't want. I tried my best to raise my son properly, but then this stupid brat came and destroyed everything with his lies about my sweet boy.”
Now I could see how mom bared her teeth for a second, this Mrs. Boseman just couldn't stop with her insults. Now it was my mom's turn. After Jessica placed her hand on Rosanne's lap to stop her, she looked at my mother. “Christa, what about you?” Mom took a deep breath. “Well, Sebastian and I have been a couple since High School. After we both graduated, we went to college, but he dropped out of it after two years. It simply wasn't his thing. He managed to get his dream job and became a police officer. We married in 2002, and moved to the Lamarck district into a house my parents had gifted us for our wedding. It took us almost five more years, until we felt that something, or someone, was missing. I remember that morning, we just stood up, as Sebastian looked at the opposite side of the table and said, Christa, I feel like someone is missing here. Should we start trying? I felt the same for quite some time, but never dared to ask him about it. We began to try, and in early 2007, it happened. You could call my son a late Christmas gift. We were both so happy, everything seemed perfect, especially since Sebastian just got promoted to Lieutenant the same day, I told him I was pregnant with his child.”
Mrs. Boseman interrupted. “Oh, so you and your super husband just had everything, presented to you on a silver plate. You never struggled with problems like I did!” Mom only shook her head. “No, I didn't. Not until that point. But as I have told it earlier, Sebastian was shot dead only days before our son was born. What I spared out before was that my parents, especially my father, tried to convince me to come back to Germany with them, as they wanted to move back to the country they originated. I refused, and I haven't seen my parents ever since. Without the help of Idrissa and Asha, I would have never made it. Listen, Rosanne, I am sorry for what happened to you and your son. But I think you should stop seeking the fault for everything on other people. Your son decided to bully other kids, your son decided to drop out of school, and it was your son who decided to steal. Or was he forced to do all this stuff? Rosanne, instead of insulting others, you should have a serious talk with your son, and then seek help for him. Michael Kofi has founded a social program for troubled teenagers, where they teach them better ways to handle their problems than with violence. If you like, I can give you a number.”
A generous offer, and you might think this mother would take this chance to bring that bully back on track, especially since this program mom talked about, the “No one is left behind” initiative, is free. At least, Nikki told me so. She often helped out there during her spare time back in High School, since it was good for her social record.
While Nikki and I cuddled closer, Mrs. Boseman was about to explode. “How dare you bitch say that it is my son's fault? He was tricked, it was all lies! Starting with this brat at Seppala High! If I could, I would go there and run him over with my car! Him, and his stupid parents!”
The studio audience gasped. In the back of the studio, Nikki and I noticed security in black shirts watching the scene.
Jessica now also had enough, she was about to lose control. The fox shouted: “Rosanne, please, calm down. Christa only wanted to help you and your son. Please…”
She couldn't finish the sentence anymore. Rosanne stood up and wanted to go for my mom's throat. Now, even my mother's cool was at its end. Before Rosanne could reach her, mom stood up, her ears were folded back, her teeth bared, her white fur bristled. Yes, mom was pissed. Now that the two were standing, it was clearly visible who was the stronger one. Mom stopped the outraged lady easily. Face to face, mom spoke in a growling tone: “It was your son who attacked mine during that break at school, entirely unprovoked. We had more than enough witnesses for that. And now, you better go out of my sight. And should you ever dare to threaten my son, my family, my friends, or me ever again, I will personally tear you apart piece by piece.”
The security finally came closer and took Rosanne away. We then noticed how Asha, Nikki's mom, walked on stage. She took mom in her arms to calm her down, what luckily worked within seconds, and the two sat down on the sofa. A minute of silence passed, until we heard mom saying to Jessica: “I am so sorry. I lost control. It was a stupid mistake coming here. Now I betrayed everything I stood for. And most likely, I will lose my job now.”
Jessica herself was speechless. Suddenly, she reached for her ear, then she turned her head to the camera. “I just was told that we have a caller on the line. We usually don't take calls during the show, but I guess this is an exception. Get him through.”
Nikki and I were at least as curious as the rest of the audience as to who this caller might be. We gasped, as we recognized the voice. It was Nikki's grandpa, Michael Kofi.
“Hello? Oh, good. Christa, Michael here. I just wanted to say this in front of everyone watching this show. Your job is perfectly safe, you have no reason to worry. I am standing a thousand percent behind you and Balto, Christa. You are my best manager in Lamarck. And today, I exactly saw why. You are passionate and would do everything for your family. Unfortunately, we can only reach our hand to those in need. They still have to take it themselves. Keep your head up, girl. We will see each other on Monday.”
Mr. Kofi Sen. hung up, silence returned. The show was almost over, there were just a few minutes left.
It was the show's host, who broke the silence. “That sure was a surprise, my dear viewers. Christa, are you ok? I have to apologize.” Her gaze then wandered to Nikki's mother. “I think we haven't met before, Ma'am. Are you a friend of Christa?”
Asha looked stern at Jessica. “My name is Asha Kofi. Yes, I am a friend of Christa. And you should be ashamed for letting this happen just to raise your quotes.”
The fox seemed to feel sorry for what happened. To be fair, it wasn't all her fault. She couldn't know about this whole backstory, and it was more than just a stupid coincidence that they hired the mom of my former bully for this. Plus, to say the truth, it was mom’s idea to invite Mrs. Boseman to the talk.
With some sorrowed words, Jessica ended the show. Nikki and I were both speechless. The reason? Besides this one time in New York, mom never lost her temper before. Ok, she was never provoked like that before either, but I guess you understand what I mean.
This time I bring you a little something I thought about for a long time, a little something with Christa in the focus. Balto's mom got by far not enough attention, I wanted to change this in at least one entry.
Colored text, for those who prefer that, is in the downloadable file.
Have fun!
Art for the thumbnail was made by the talented Evange
