CAUTION: This story contains implied sexual activity between minors, violence, and profanity. Reader discretion is advised.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Assam Chai
by IndigoNeko
Chapter 14
Sunday, July 10th, 2016
A relatively new navy-blue Chrysler minivan came to a stop in front of a century-old brick-fronted home in the suburbs twenty minutes west of Philadelphia. The passenger-side back door started sliding open the very moment the vehicle had come to a full stop, courtesy of a very impatient young lizard. He practically fell out of the minivan in his haste to exit it, and was joined a moment later by his two much younger sisters.
All three of the mangrove monitors were dressed in their Sunday best, and the youngest of the three still had her sandals on, which was unheard-of in their mother’s experience. After turning off the minivan, the mother of the three lizards opened the driver’s side door and stepped out. She closed the van door, then tapped a button on her key fob to close the back door, knowing that her children had left it open, as usual.
Isabel followed her children from the van to the house, then unlocked the front door for them and let them all inside. They were eager to get out of their church clothes, also as usual. “Remember to hang your clothes up, don’t leave them on the floor,” she called as they darted inside and up the stairs to their bedrooms. Isabel sighed and closed the door behind herself and locked it, grateful to finally be home. She turned and headed to the living room and sat down on the couch, staring down at the worn leather-bound tome sitting on the coffee table.
She could barely remember the day’s sermon; she’d had nothing on her mind except for the insidious heretical thoughts that her husband had planted in her head on Friday evening. He’d managed to crack the very foundation of her faith, brought the entirety of the Holy Bible into question. If not for the fact that she had her children with her, she’d have stayed after church to spend some time in the confessional. Except that she already knew what the priest would say: “We must have faith that the words of the Holy Bible are true.”
Could she really just set aside her doubts and blindly believe that everything in the Bible was true? She’d always thought that at least a few things in it were fables: stories intended to teach a moral lesson. It was no great stretch to say that some things in the Bible may have been well-intentioned lies... such as Moses claiming that God spoke to him. Which left her feeling like she was drowning in a sea of uncertainty, without a moral compass with which to find her way back to the land of the righteous. How was she to know right from wrong, good from evil, if even the Holy Bible itself was built on lies?
As Isabel was pondering all this, she heard her children coming back down the stairs and quickly got to her feet, heading to the kitchen. She spent the next few minutes cutting several slices of ham to fix a late lunch for the kids, herself, and her husband. Her worries about morality wouldn’t leave her mind, and after she set the plates out for her children on the kitchen island, she ducked into the computer office. She sat down and woke the sleeping computer, opened the web browser and typed in ‘What is the definition of good?’. She knew that search engines didn’t actually understand full sentences, but felt that asking full sentence questions gave better results.
The third result, from Brittanica, stood out: ‘the part of someone that is kind, honest, generous, helpful, etc.’ Another result included ‘empathy, integrity, and altruism.’ Further down was a Wikipedia entry about Good and Evil. That was probably the most promising result.
Five minutes later, Isabel had come to the conclusion that there were far more ways to interpret Good and Evil than she’d have imagined. Another five minutes later, she was staring at the bottom of the web page wondering what she considered to be Good. The survival of herself, her family, her species, other species... Those were objectively good. Beyond that, anything that prevented suffering was also objectively good.
Kayson wasn’t risking anyone’s survival, wasn’t causing anyone’s suffering. Her son was kind, honest, generous, helpful... all traits of someone that was Good by anyone’s definition. But he was almost certainly gay. Was homosexuality evil? It didn’t threaten anyone’s survival or cause anyone’s suffering, at least not in and of itself. But there were diseases like AIV that-
“Mom?”
Isabel turned and looked at her son, wondering just how long she’d been staring at the computer screen. “Yes?”
“You looked pretty busy, so I cleaned up the kitchen for you and put everything away. Maddy and Emmy are watching TV. Do you want me to take one of the other plates on the counter up for Dad?” Kayson asked, stepping into the office.
“Yes, please,” she replied. She’d completely forgotten to take lunch up for her husband, and suddenly felt guilty.
“Okay, I’ll take it up for him. Love you,” Kayson said, bending over to give her a quick hug.
“I love you too,” Isabel said, patting his back, then watching as he went back towards the kitchen, his tail disappearing around the corner. She sighed, and reached over to tap the power button on the computer. She’d wasted enough time today pondering moral and ethical dilemmas.
__________________________________________________
About an hour and a half west of Denver, high in the Rocky mountains, sat a small town called Winter Creek. A burgundy Ford Super DeLuxe from the early 1940s drove up Main street along a strip of angled parking with several parked cars, including a black Nissan Murano and a silver Toyota RAV4, both from the early 2010s. The sidewalk in front of them went past the Winter Creek Arcade, which hailed back to the mid-1990s, and Mel’s Diner, which looked like every other classic American diner from the late 1950s.
The diner was surprisingly busy, especially for a Sunday afternoon. Given the smells, it was unsurprising that the restaurant was so crowded. It was clearly one of the more popular places to eat in the area, despite the age of the establishment. The interior was decorated with neon red signs, black and white checkered floors, chairs and booths upholstered with metallic red vinyl, and enough polished chrome trim to supply a modern automobile factory for a month. A Wurlitzer jukebox in one corner, amazingly still functional, playing ‘Crazy’ by Patsy Cline.
“Here you go. Fried halibut, tartar sauce, grilled asparagus with toasted almonds and pine nuts,” a waitress said, sliding two plates of golden-brown fried fish onto the table in front of the two red and black thrushes. “And the caprese salad with pine nuts and balsamic dressing on the side,” the beaver added, taking the last dish off the platter she was holding and setting it down in front of the youngest of the three birds. “Anything else I can get for you?”
Both Gwen and Hank shook their heads. “No, thank you,” Gwen added. “Ginnie?”
“I’m good. Thank you,” the youngest thrush said, picking up the fork from the set of utensils that the waitress had handed out earlier.
Alex watched as the waitress turned and headed back towards the kitchen, presumably to get their hamburgers, then glanced over at Ginnie, surreptitiously watching as the bird speared a tiny sliced tomato on her fork and dipped it into the cup of dressing before popping it into her beak. The keratinous appendages clamped shut, then she pulled the fork free, the tines now bare of the cherry tomato. The young tigress watched the bird’s throat move as she swallowed. “Ginnie?” shi asked. “Um... Is it true you all don’t need to chew your food? You can just... swallow things whole?”
“If it’s small enough and soft enough, yeah,” Ginnie replied. “Most birds have a two-part stomach. The second part is called a gizzard. It mashes stuff up for us. We can swallow rocks to aid digestion if needed.”
“So it is true,” Alex exclaimed. “I wondered if Mrs. Eaglantine was making that up. But, like... what happens when you pass them? Can you flush rocks down the toilet?”
All three of the birds laughed at that. “No, we don’t pass them like that,” Gwen explained. “Alex, wasn’t it?” the older thrush asked, then continued after the younger tigress nodded. “The rocks stay in our gizzards, though we can throw them up if needed. They do wear down over time, and rougher rocks are better for digesting stuff than smooth ones.”
“Wow. So, like-” Alex started to ask another question, only to be interrupted as the waitress returned to their table with another platter covered with plates.
“Bacon blue-cheese burger and fries?” the waitress asked, then set the plate down in front of the Raenne as the tigress raised a paw. “Mushroom swiss burger with a side ceasar salad?” the beaver continued, taking another plate off the platter.
“Right here, Nadine,” David replied, raising his hand.
The waitress set the plate down in front of the white tiger. “And Alex ordered the California burger with onion rings and fry sauce.”
“Yep. Thanks Mrs. Myers,” Alex said, looking up at the beaver woman. “Oh, is Jason going to be at the Lughnasadh festival?”
“He’s gone to it for the past three years,” Nadine said with a shrug, lowering the platter she was holding. “He’s never won any of the games, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.”
“Oh,” the tigress said, blinking. Shi had completely forgotten about the Tailteann games, and said so. “Shoot. I forgot about the games.”
“Better start practicing, hon. You’ve only got three weeks to prepare,” the beaver said, then squinted at the young tigress. “Hmm. I know they’ve got separate groups for girls and boys... Where do herms fit in?”
“I dunno,” Alex shrugged. “I was always on the girls teams in elementary school.”
“You might ask Jason,” the beaver suggested. “If he doesn’t know, you can always ask Charles or Sharleen.”
“I will,” the tigress agreed. “Thanks, Mrs. Myers.”
“No problem,” the waitress replied, glancing around the booth where the tigers were sitting, watching as the two baby tigers started squirming in their seats. “Do y’all need anything?”
“Just some ketchup,” Raenne replied, picking up one of the fries and popping it in her mouth. She passed a few of them over to Nick and Kate to keep her kittens occupied.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” the beaver said, heading back towards the kitchen.
Alex noticed both of the older birds were staring at hir oddly. Shi glanced over at them. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, uh, I just... I thought you were a girl,” Hank explained. “You wore a skirt on Thursday, so I guess I just assumed...”
“That’s my fault,” Raenne interjected, then swallowed the fry she was chewing. “Sorry. I told Ginnie a while back and I just assumed she’d have told you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a hermaphrodite before,” Gwen said, looking over at the younger tigress.
“Hermaphrodites are pretty rare,” Alex said. “I think, like, one in a thousand? And most have gender assignment surgery shortly after birth, so the actual number is way lower. I’ve only met two other herms in my entire life.”
Hank peered at the young tigress. “Do you go to Scott Carpenter Middle School too?”
“Yeah,” the young tigress confirmed. “I skipped fifth grade when we moved to Colorado.”
“Oh, that’s right...” Ginnie said. “Your mom said you’re only ten.”
“Yep. I’ll be turning eleven next month.”
“Ah. I turned twelve in May,” the young thrush said.
Nadine returned just as Ginnie finished speaking and set a glass ketchup bottle down in front of the family of tigers. The waitress paused for a moment, wiping her hands on her apron while looking at Raenne. “Sorry if I’m being nosy, but... A tiger stopped in for dinner here a week ago, on July fourth. He said he was looking for you, so I showed him that karate flyer you put up. I was going to have Jason give him Alex’s phone number, but he begged off, saying something about setting up a family reunion later...” The beaver trailed off as the family of tigers all looked up at her.
Alex glanced over at hir mom, unwilling to say anything after hir mom had snapped at hir on the way to the shooting range the other day.
“Uh, yeah,” Raenne said awkwardly. “He showed up at our house that night. It, uh, didn’t go as well as he probably hoped it would.”
“Oh,” the waitress said, frowning. “That’s too bad...” The bell above the door rang as yet another group of hungry patrons entered the diner, and Nadine bit back whatever she was going to say next. She flashed a smile at them, showing orange-tinted incisors. “I’ll be back to check on you all in a bit,” she said before going to seat the latest group of customers.
“Well, that explains how Ivan found us,” Raenne muttered, then sighed. “I’d thought the lawyer spilled his guts, but didn’t want to admit it.” The tigress frowned, deep in thought as her two kittens finished their fries.
Awkward silence descended on the two tables, broken only when Hank held out his hands to his wife and daughter to say a brief prayer, then they all started eating. During the lull in conversation, the two baby tigers sitting at the booth both stared at each other from across the table for a moment and simultaneously crawled off their seats and under the table.
After taking a few bites, Hank looked around. “I kinda wish we’d eaten here before now. This is pretty darn good. The halibut’s perfectly cooked. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was fresh caught instead of frozen.”
“The salad’s really good too,” Ginnie said, drizzling the last of the dressing onto her salad.
Gwen’s crest rose in an avian smile at that. “Well there’s a first. Seals of approval from both my husband and daughter at the same restaurant, and a local diner at that. If it didn’t look like it was built in the sixties...”
“It probably was built in the fifties or sixties,” David pointed out, glancing under the table and using his feet to prevent the twins from escaping. “This is the original boomerang pattern formica from the nineteen fifties,” he said, tapping his claw on the tabletops and looking around. “Honestly I’m shocked it’s in as good a condition as it is. Not so much as a chip on the tabletops or a crack in the seat cushions. I’d bet it costs the owner as much to maintain as any restaurant in downtown Denver. This place is a work of love from someone with very deep pockets.”
“Dunno about the deep pockets, but it is a work of love, and I’ll let Melvin know you think so,” Nadine confirmed as she walked up to the table again, having overheard the conversation. “He’s owned and run this place for over thirty years, and he took over it from his father. It’s a point of pride for him. Now, is there anything else y’all need?”
“A chocolate shake for Alex,” David said, pointing at his daughter. “Oh, and would you put everything for both our tables on one ticket for me, please.”
“Got it. One black cow, coming right up. Anything else?” the beaver asked.
The rest of the group shook their heads, and the waitress let them be. The sounds of growls came from under the table as the twins started rough-housing with each other, having failed in their attempt to escape and explore the diner.
“Thanks Dad,” Alex said, hir tail twitching happily. Normally shi wasn’t allowed to eat anything with chocolate, because it contained theobromine.
“You still need some more meat on those bones, love,” David pointed out. “I didn’t realize it until you came back from California with your fur shaved. Why’d you do that, anyway?”
“It was too hot,” Alex replied with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Wish we could just trim our feathers,” Ginnie muttered. “But no, we’ve gotta just tough it out. Thank God for air conditioning.”
“Why can’t you trim feathers?” Alex asked, curious, then quickly bent over and snagged Kate as the baby tigress tried to escape from under the table again. Shi quickly picked the baby tiger up and passed her over to their mom, who set the baby tigress down on the booth seat again. The kitten gave her signature growly whine, frustrated that her second attempt at escape had been foiled.
“First of all they look really strange. Second, if you break or cut the shaft of a new feather, they’ll bleed,” Ginnie explained. “I’ve cracked new feathers when I’m sleeping before. It’s a mess. And taking care of feathers in the morning is a pain in the-”
“Ginnie,” Gwen warned, chastising her daughter.
“-tail,” the young bird finished. “I wish we could sleep sitting upright like un-evolved birds do. Or do that half-awake sleeping thing.”
“Some people can,” Hank pointed out. “It’s just not a common heritage trait.”
“Right. Not us, though,” Ginnie grumbled. “Oh, Alex... Do you want to come over to my place? I can show you how to repair that skirt of yours. I’ve got a skirt of my own that I need to re-hem anyway.”
Alex perked up at that. “Oh! Yes, please. If that’s okay with our parents...”
“Fine by me,” Raenne said. “If the Millers are willing to drive you back to the Dojo later.”
Both Hank and Gwen’s feathers fluffed out slightly. The two tables went silent for a moment, then Hank sighed. “Sure, I can drive her- I mean, uh, Alex back to the dojo later.” Then he squinted, looking at the younger tigress. “Is that the right pronoun for a, uh, hermaphrodite? She/her?”
“Uh, yeah,” Alex confirmed. “Except it’s spelled ‘s-h-i’ and ‘h-i-r’. It’s only pronounced differently by doctors, I think...” Shi trailed off as the waitress approached the table with a sundae glass in hand.
“Here you go, Alex,” Nadine said, setting the glass down in front of hir. “Also, give Jason a call sometime, would you? He’s been bored with nothing to do all summer. He used to hang out with Jerome, but apparently Jerome and Brandy are a thing now...”
“Thanks, Mrs. Myers,” Alex said, pulling the frosted glass closer. “I’ll give him a call tonight.”
The beaver smiled, looking around the two tables. “Is there anything else I can get you all?”
As most of them shook their heads, David replied “Just the check please, Nadine.”
“I’ll bring it right over then,” the waitress said. “Enjoy your meal.”
__________________________________________________
“Wow, you all have a small car,” Alex said as shi climbed into the back seat of Hank’s silver SUV. The young tigress waved at hir Mom who was standing on the sidewalk with Nicholas in her arms.
“The RAV4 is designed for smaller species,” Hank explained, “just like the Sequoia is made for really big species.”
“I didn’t know they made cars for different sized people,” the young tigress said, buckling the seatbelt.
“It’s not that drastic of a difference, but when you’ve got some species that top out at five feet and others like elephants and giraffes that are well over seven feet tall...” Hank said as he slowly backed the SUV out of the parking spot. “Car manufacturers have learned to offer choices to appeal to a variety of people.”
“That makes sense,” Alex admitted, going quiet as they started driving up Main street.
“Dad, can you put on some music?” Ginnie asked, a few moments later.
“Sure thing, chiclet,” the older thrush said, reaching over and turning on the radio. Classical music started playing, though it wasn’t anything Alex recognized.
Alex stared out the window as they continued up Main Street, past the street that led to Aspen Glen. “Which neighborhood do you all live in?” shi asked.
“Possum Hollow, near Loch Lomond,” Ginnie answered. “Ever been there?”
“No,” Alex said, shaking hir head. “What’s Loch Lomond?”
“It’s a small lake, on the west edge of Winter Creek,” Ginnie explained.
“It’s one of the five lakes in the area,” Gwen spoke up from the front passenger seat. “It’s named after the much, much bigger Loch Lomond in Scotland.”
“Can we go see it?” Alex asked.
“Sure. Ginnie can take you,” Gwen replied. “There’s a trail that goes around it with several small bridges. We’ve gone down it a few times.”
Hank took a left, going down a street that Alex had never seen before, into a neighborhood shi had never been in. The houses were a bit more spread out than those in Oakbower but just as diverse. Large two-story ranch houses sat in lots next to single-story ramblers. Some of the houses were obviously from the fifties and sixties, but others were clearly new construction or recently renovated. It was a far cry from the cookie-cutter tract housing where Jason and Nadine lived, on the south side of Aspen Glen, or where Ravi and Aruna lived in Aspen Glade.
The SUV slowed as they approached a single-story rambler between a pair of larger two-story residences, and then turned into the driveway as the double-wide garage door opened. The garage was even larger on the inside than Alex had suspected, and Hank parked his RAV4 next to a white Corolla. The tigress undid hir seatbelt and hopped out of the car, then stopped and stared.
Workbenches lined the walls, which were hung with pegboards and shelves. Tools of various kinds hung from the pegboards, just like in Mr. Owen’s workshop. The shelves held dozens of power tools: Cordless drills, impact drivers, angle grinders, jigsaws, orbital sanders... all tools that shi had only recently learned about. The workbenches had tools that Alex had never seen before.
Some things were obvious, like the large magnifying lens mounted on some kind of articulating arm. Others were not, like small hand-held sized boxes with small LCD screens and wires coming out of them, or a CRT screen mounted into a long plastic enclosure with dozens of knobs and switches on it. A ham radio sat in the middle of one of the workbenches with a microphone in front. That was something shi had only seen in TV shows.
“C’mon,” Ginnie said, tapping hir shoulder.
“Sorry,” Alex apologized. “I’ve never seen so many, uh, electronics before.”
“That’s Dad’s hobby: working on cars and electronics,” the bird said. “Don’t touch anything. Some of it’s dangerous. C’mon, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
The tigress followed the bird into the house, entering the dining room and kitchen. Everything was neat and tidy, just like the garage had been. The walls were white, but the cabinets and furniture were made of pale beige woods, like pine and birch. Colorful paintings hung on the walls, mostly consisting of nautical scenes. Alex stopped to look at a painting of a lighthouse. “That’s really well done,” shi said, stepping close enough to make out the individual brush strokes.
“Thank you,” Gwen said, pausing on the threshold between the dining and living rooms. “I finished that about nine years ago.”
“Really?” Alex asked, eyebrows going up. “You’re a painter? Azalea’s mom is too.”
“I used to be, before we moved out here,” the older thrush said, continuing into the living room. “I decided to take up gardening instead when we moved here; we didn’t have a yard at our old home. That’s the first painting I did after Ginnie was born; it had been a few years since I’d had any spare time. Taking care of a child is a lot of work.”
“I bet,” Alex agreed. “I take care of the twins for a few hours a day, so Mom can have some free time. They’re a handful.”
The young tigress didn’t have much time to look over the living room as Ginnie tapped hir shoulder again, then gestured down the hallway to one side. “My room’s this way,” she said.
“I’ll talk with you later, Mrs. Miller,” Alex said, waving at the older thrush.
“Okay, you all have fun. Let me know if you’re going out,” Gwen said, laying down on the couch and reaching for a TV remote on the coffee table.
Alex followed Ginnie down the hallway, taking the first right. Ginnie’s room was a bit smaller than hir own, with a simple bed, dresser, desk, bookshelves, and a full-size stereo system and record player on a stand with speaker towers to either side. Band posters covered the walls, and the bookshelves were crammed with stacks of CDs and vinyl records... The only books in the room were sitting in a small pile on the desk, next to a stack of music sheets and a laptop.
“Wow. You really like music, don’t you?” the tigress asked, looking at the bookshelves.
“You could say that,” Ginnie said, sitting down on her bed. “Half of those are my dad’s, actually. But I still listen to them... or sing along with them.”
“You can sing?” Alex asked, turning to look at Ginnie, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed.
“You could say that,” the bird said once again. Her beak opened slightly and the crest of red feathers atop her head stood up. Alex got the feeling that was Ginnie’s version of a smile. “Dad does too,” the bird continued, “or rather, he used to. He was the first musician with the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra before we moved out here.”
“What’s he do now?” Alex asked, walking over to the office chair by the desk and sitting down.
“Nothing, really. Stays at home and tinkers with his electronics in the garage. He does the shopping, cooking, cleaning...” Ginnie shrugged. “We’re fine though; he doesn’t need to work. Mom makes enough to keep the bills paid. I think he’s been getting bored lately, though.”
“So... why’d you move out here? Was it because of that, uh, witness protection thing my mom mentioned?” Alex asked, leaning back in the office chair. It creaked slightly under hir weight.
Ginnie’s beak bobbed up and down as she nodded. “Yeah. One night we were going out to an Italian restaurant, celebrating one of Dad’s performances. I overheard a group of men a few tables away discussing a ‘hit’. I thought they were talking about music at first, like a hit album or something, and one of them was being paid for it. Then I realized that he’d killed a man and his wife. So I asked my Dad to speak in private and told him about it. We called nine-one-one to report it.”
The bird sighed, a high-pitched whistling noise, then continued. “The police showed up outside the restaurant, where we were waiting. I repeated what I’d heard the guys say and they went in and arrested the two men. I thought that would be the end of it, but they called us up as witnesses a month later. I had to go to court and say what I’d overheard then too. After the judge read the verdict, the man said he was going to have me and my parents murdered for being a snitch. Apparently he was part of the Sicilian mafia, and the judge thought it was a serious enough threat to offer us Witness Protection.
“After we entered Witness Protection the Federal Marshals packed us up and moved us out here within a week. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to my friends before we left last summer... I wasn’t even allowed to tell them where we were going when we spoke on the phone. Just that we were leaving.” Ginnie went quiet, looking down at her lap.
Alex knew what that was like. At least shi’d had time to say goodbye to hir friend Lizzy. Shi waited a few seconds to organize hir thoughts before speaking. “I, uh, moved here last summer too, from Oregon. I used to pose as a girl. Then a boy, Robert, I think, figured out I wasn’t a girl and pulled my skirts off during recess to prove it. He got suspended from school, and some of his older friends blamed me for it. They caught me alone and beat me up, broke my ribs so bad I couldn’t breath and nearly died. Mom and Dad were afraid it was going to get worse, and decided to move out here, where people aren’t so mean towards hermaphrodites. I lost all my friends too... but at least I got to say goodbye to Lizzy before we left.”
Ginnie stared at hir in silence for a few moments. “So that’s why you’re taking karate. So you’ll never get beaten up again?”
Alex nodded.
“And the Russian mafia’s still looking for you guys.”
The tigress nodded again. “Probably.”
Ginnie slowly shook her head. “Well, we’ve got two things in common, at least. I didn’t get beaten up, though. I’m sorry you went through that.”
The tigress shrugged. “The last two years have been... rough. Broke my leg snowboarding, got my ribs broken by bullies, lost all my friends, got shredded by a mountain lion, fell through a floor, got kidnapped, got knocked out so bad I looked like David Bowie, my grandparents were murdered, and I was ra-” Alex shut hir mouth, nearly biting hir tongue. Shi hadn’t intended to say the last part. The tigress swallowed and shrugged again. “I survived.”
The thrush stared at hir, blinked a few times, then suddenly burst into song, throwing up her hands and bouncing on her bed. “Think I’d crumble? Think I’d lay down and die? Oh, no, not I, I will survive! Oh as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll be alive. I’ve got all my life to live, and I’ve got all my love to give. I’ll survive. I will survive! Hey, hey!”
Alex couldn’t help but start laughing. Ginnie had sung that chorus perfectly. By the time shi had managed to get hirself back under control, hir sides were aching. Shi wiped hir tears with the back of hir paw. “God, that was amazing. You can sing.”
“Thanks,” Ginnie said, her red feather crest going up again. “It sounds like you’ve got a lot of stories to tell,” she added, unfolding her legs and hopping off the bed. “Let’s go take a walk around the lake. You can share some of ‘em if you want; get it off your chest. It sounds like you need someone to talk to. I promise I won’t judge or gossip; seal of the confessional and all that. Not that I’m ordained or anything, but... well, you get the idea.”
The tigress took a deep breath. That sounded good, like talking with a therapist, and shi hadn’t been to one in months. The tigress stood up off the chair. “Sure. I could use some fresh air.”
__________________________________________________
“Catch you later, Ginnie. Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller,” Alex said as shi climbed out of his SUV and closed the door. Shi turned and walked the last few paces across the asphalt parking lot before stepping up onto the cement sidewalk, then climbed the handful of steps to the dojo courtyard. The Japanese cherry trees that lined the inside walls of the flagstone courtyard had grown a dense canopy of glossy, deep green leaves that swayed in the warm summer breeze.
The tigress paused to stare at the subtle geometric patterns in the flagstone, emphasized by the slightly different colors of stone that the Japanese artisans had used when laying it. The patterns drew the eyes towards the two-story dojo, which looked kind of like a half-scale model of the Tōdaiji temple, in Nara, Japan. Shi still couldn’t believe that hir mom had paid out-of-pocket to have it built, even if it was with drug-money stolen from the Russian mafia. That explained why the bad guys were still hunting for them.
The tigress padded across the courtyard towards the shoji doors in the center of the dojo’s front wall, which slid open with a whisper as shi came within range of the motion detector. Alex paused just inside the dojo to take off hir shoes, leaving them in the bank of cubbies just to the right of the door. Unsurprisingly, the main floor of the dojo was completely empty, bare except for the various weapons and tapestries hanging on the walls, and shi continued along the wooden walkway surrounding the gym mats over to the stairs on the right that led down to the basement lounge, office, and locker rooms.
The shoji door to the basement lounge slid open with a hiss as the tigress made it halfway down the stairs, and shi glanced around. The lounge was empty too, except for the sofas and loveseats that belonged there. “Mom? Dad?” shi called, padding over to the closed office door. The door was locked, and shi quickly entered the code on the keypad above the handle. The deadbolt whirred as it retracted back into the door, and shi pressed the handle again and pushed the heavy door open with a pneumatic hiss.
Hir parents weren’t there, either. The dojo seemed abandoned, at least until Nick and Kate peered out at hir from under the coffee table in the middle of the room. “What in the world are you two doing out of your play pen?” shi muttered, stepping into the room and letting the door close behind hirself. Shi walked over and sat down next to the coffee table. “C’mon you two,” shi said, holding one paw out towards hir baby siblings. Both of the twins crawled out from under the table to sniff at hir hand.
Alex had just managed to pick both the kittens up and deposit them in their play pen, and was about to call hir parents on hir phone when the office door opened. Mom stepped in wearing a tank-top and shorts, with a towel around her neck. Dad followed a moment later, wearing sweats and a towel. Both of them were visibly damp, probably returning from the locker room showers. Alex glanced over at the bed on the far side of the room, which was a mess, and back at hir parents. “So that’s what you were doing while I was at Ginnie’s.”
Mom snorted in amusement, and Dad looked a bit bashful, confirming hir suspicions. The older tigress walked over to the side of the bed and dropped her towel on the pile of dirty laundry that was slowly accumulating. “So, did Ginnie spill the beans about why they’re in Witness Protection?”
“Yeah,” Alex confirmed, laying down on the sofa. “She overheard someone confess to a murder while they were at a restaurant, and reported it to the police. The guy got arrested and Ginnie had to go to court as a witness. He threatened to kill her and her family, and the judge offered them witness protection, because the man was part of the Sicilian mafia.”
“Really?” David asked, eyes going wide with panic. “The Sicilian mafia? Here?”
“Not here,” Raenne corrected as she started making up the bed. “They’re from Boston. The north end of Boston is called ‘Little Italy’ because there’s so many Italians there. I wouldn’t be surprised if both the Cosa Nostra and Camorra have people there hidden in the Italian-American mafia.”
“Oh. That makes way more sense,” David said, relaxing again as he walked across the room to drop his own towel off. “So... What are the Millers like?”
“Well, Ginnie’s nice. Her parents seem nice, too. Her Mom used to be a painter and her Dad was the first musician with the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra,” Alex said. “Oh, Ginnie and I went for a walk around Loch Lomond. It’s really pretty. We talked about a bunch of stuff. She’s really, really into music. Especially classical music. And going to museums and stuff, like the Boston Museum of Fine Arts and the Harvard Museum of Natural History.”
“Huh,” David muttered. “They sound like high society snobs-”
“David,” Raenne interrupted. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying fine arts. You could do with a little culture yourself. When was the last time you went to a concert, theater, or museum?”
“Do movie theaters count?” David joked.
The older tigress sighed. “Have you ever been to a UNESCO world heritage site? Yellowstone? The Grand Canyon? The Statue of Liberty?”
“Uhhh,” the tiger paused, clearly thinking. “Does the Olympic National Park count?”
Raenne narrowed her eyes. “Possibly.”
“Then possibly.”
Raenne sighed. “We need to go on a tour of the States at some point. Alex hasn’t been to any of the UNESCO sites.”
David looked alarmed at that. “Not this summer; the twins are barely six months old. They’d never remember it.”
“Hmm. How about for Alex’s eighteenth birthday? They’ll be eight, then. Old enough to remember it. Whatcha think, kiddo?”
Alex tilted hir head back, looking over the arm of the sofa at hir mom. “What, going on a road trip for my eighteenth birthday?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure?” shi said, shrugging. “Oh, and before I forget... Do we have a sewing kit? Ginnie showed me how to fix the hem on my skirt.”
“I don’t think so...” Raenne replied. “I can go buy one on Monday, if you’ll watch the twins while I’m out shopping.”
“Sure,” Alex said.
The room went quiet for a moment, other than the sounds of Nick and Kate tussling with each other in their play pen. Alex took the opportunity to pull out hir phone; shi still needed to call Jason. Maybe he’d be willing to go skating with hir at the service road east of Aspen Glen. Shi wanted to go check on Mr. Dowdy too, and see if they’d started rebuilding his house yet.
__________________________________________________
Monday, July 11th, 2016
Ginnie’s soft-soled shoes quietly slapped the courtyard flagstones as she hurried over to the dojo. She slowed as the front door slid open. Sensei Raenne was standing off to one side of the mats with a large med-kit at her feet, watching as Alex and another young tiger performed some kind of drill using spears. And this time, they really were spears, not just long sticks. At least, Alex’s was. It had a long, straight double-sided blade just under a foot long at the end that looked wicked sharp, polished to a mirror sheen.
The thrush paused for a moment to watch as the two young tigers went through an intricate set of motions in tandem, making thrusts, sweeps, and slicing motions... sometimes even using the other end of their spears as a club. Both of the two tiger cubs looked surprisingly proficient with the weapons, and the wide-legged pants that were part of their uniforms didn’t look so silly as she’d originally thought.
After a few seconds of watching, Ginnie walked along the polished wood floor around the edge of the mat to where Sensei Raenne was standing. “Sensei?”
“Hello, Ginnie-san. You’re here early,” the older tigress said, turning to her and giving a short bow.
Ginnie bowed in return, going lower to indicate respect for her teacher. “I wanted to talk to you before class. I mentioned last week that I wanted to catch up a bit, and Dad said he’s okay with me coming to class three times a week.”
“Hmm. Okay,” Raenne said, nodding slightly. “Since you’re serious about this... Alex-san?” the tigress turned to call across the dojo.
The younger tigress paused mid-thrust, hir spear stopping as if it had hit a stone wall. Ravi’s came to a stop a moment later, and both of the two tiger cubs turned to look at them, holding their spears upright. “Hai, Sensei?” Alex asked.
“Sorry to interrupt. Are you two almost finished?” Raenne asked. “I have a proposal.”
“Yes, Sensei. We were almost done with that drill. Three moves left. We can end early.”
“Good. Ravi-san, you’re almost ready for your seventh kyu belt test. Alex-san, after class starts I’d like you to take Ginnie aside and go through all the ninth-kyu kihon, kata, and kumite. Repeat anything she needs more work on until she gets it right. Then take Ravi aside and do the same for him with all the eighth-kyu material. We’ll do this every day this week. By Friday, you both should be ready for your belt tests after class. Understood?”
“Hai, Sensei,” Alex said. Both of the two tigers bowed deeply. Ginnie noticed that Alex’s spear tip didn’t move so much as an inch, but Ravi’s spear-haft swayed like it was being blown by the wind.
Ten minutes later, after getting into their uniforms and going through the opening ceremony, Alex pulled Ginnie aside, just as hir dad pulled an old black cat aside. Ginnie had noticed before that the black cat (Panther maybe?) and white tiger trained together, but hadn’t thought much about it until now. The panther was an orange belt already, whereas everyone else except the tigers were white or yellow belts. It made sense to train people of different skill levels separately.
The young tigress led Ginnie over to the back corner of the mat, away from the rest of the class. “So, how well do you know the different moves? Do you know the Japanese names for them?” Alex asked quietly.
“Uhhh... Not very well,” Ginnie admitted. “I remember the Japanese words, like, I can recite all of them that I’ve heard so far, but I don’t know what any of them mean.”
Alex nodded, seemingly unconcerned. “The basic moves are all in that manual that Mom hands out to new students. She also gives out a worksheet with every new belt you earn for all the moves you’ll need to learn. So tonight when you get home, or maybe tomorrow, you can spend some time going over the worksheet.”
Ginnie nodded, grateful that the young tigress didn’t seem very judgemental. “Okay.”
“So, Mom asked me to go over the ninth-kyu kihon, kata, and kumite with you. That’s basic moves, combination forms, and sparring. We’ll start with the basics, or kihon. There’s five basic stances, called dachi. Then there’s blocks, or uke, then closed fist strikes, or zuki, and open-hand strikes, called uchi. Last is kicks, called geri,” the younger tigress explained. “After I demonstrate, I’ll call them out in Japanese, and you recite what it means in English, then you demonstrate the stance. Let’s start with Zenkutsu Dachi. Forward stance.”
Alex stood straight with both hands out front, near hir hips, then stepped forward with hir left foot, both knees bent, left fist out at waist height, while pulling hir right fist back, like shi was winding up for a punch. Ginnie nodded, and Alex stepped backwards. “Zenkutsu dachi,” the tigress called out.
“Forward stance,” Ginnie said, then stepped forward. The talons on her rear foot dug into the gym mat, and her foot didn’t rotate.
“Hold,” Alex said, taking a few steps to the side. “Lift your rear foot slightly and rest it back down, so your toes aren’t digging in... Hmm. Okay, you’re going to need to either shift your right foot before you step forward into the stance, or learn to lift your toes slightly so you can swivel on the center of your foot without your talons digging into the mat. You only want to dig your talons in when you need traction.”
“Oh,” the thrush said, turning to look at her hind foot. No wonder it felt awkward before. It felt much better with her foot turned sideways. She tried lifting up her toes. It was surprisingly difficult to get enough leverage to keep her talon tips up off the floor mat. “I might need to cut them back. They’re getting kinda long, anyway.”
“Yeah. They’re not particularly sharp either,” Alex muttered.
“Well, duh... we’re not allowed to keep ‘em sharp without wearing claw-tip covers. It’s against the school rules,” Ginnie pointed out.
“You’re right,” Alex admitted. “And they’d tear up the floor mats too. Sorry, Aruna keeps bugging me to keep my claws perfect. I even started wearing claw tips to protect them,” the tigress said, holding hir paw out and extending hir finger-claws. Shi carefully peeled the ivory vinyl cover off hir index finger-claw. It was painted an iridescent pearl and the tip looked sharp enough to cut glass.
“Wow! That’s so pretty!” Ginnie couldn’t help but exclaim. Subtle rainbows danced across the surface of the tiger’s claws. “I always thought brightly colored claws looked gaudy... but I like that.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, hir ears turning to the sides. Ginnie wasn’t familiar enough with mammals to know what that expression meant. “In the meantime, try turning your hind foot before you step forward, so your talons don’t get caught in the mat,” the tigress explained, putting the claw cover back on.
Ginnie straightened back up, then when Alex called ‘Zenkutsu Dachi’, she turned her hind foot before stepping forward. It didn’t feel like her leg was twisting uncomfortably like it had before, and felt much more natural.
“Good,” Alex said, walking around her. The tigress pointed at her left arm, which was out front above her knee. “Make sure your front arm is slightly bent, just like your other limbs. Never completely straighten a limb if you can avoid it; an unexpected strike against a straight elbow or knee can easily break it.”
The bird nodded, bending her arm slightly, then stood straight again. The rest of the lessons went similarly, with Alex offering many tips. Some of them were things that Sensei Raenne had mentioned and Ginnie had forgotten; others were things specific to Ginnie’s anisodactyl feet. Alex turned out to be just as demanding (if not more so) than Raenne was, when it came to having perfect form. By the time the class was half over and Alex returned her to the main lesson group, Ginnie was winded from doing the moves over and over to Alex’s satisfaction.
Ginnie watched as Alex took Ravi aside, leading him over to where they’d been practicing a moment earlier. She turned to Sensei Raenne and started listening. At least now she knew exactly what moves she was talking about when calling out the names of the moves in Japanese. Having that one-on-one lesson with Alex had helped in more ways than one.
__________________________________________________
“Ravi?” Sevita called from the kitchen as the young tiger shut the door behind himself. “There’s a letter for you from the school. It’s on the dining table.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he called back as he peeled off his bike helmet, then bent to take off his shoes. He stood back up, noticing that his father was sitting in his recliner, watching the news. “Hey Dad.”
“Hey Sport. Have a good ride?” Atman asked.
“Yeah. The ride out sucked, but coming back was fine. I’m going to have a belt test on Friday after class, too, so I may be late getting home,” Ravi replied, sticking his shoes on the rack by the door before walking towards the kitchen.
“Okay,” the older tiger acknowledged with a wave, then went back to staring at the television.
Sevita was sitting at the dining table as Ravi walked into the kitchen. She was reading a set of papers that looked like they’d been folded a few times, but pointed to a letter sitting on the table as he entered. “Right there,” she said.
Ravi picked it up. It was indeed from Scott Carpenter Middle School, but it had his name on it. He had no idea why the school would send something specifically to him. He used a claw to slice open the envelope and pulled the letter out, noticing that the papers his mom was reading were in hand-written Hindi. Actually, on second glance it only looked like hand-written Hindi. The letters were much more ‘pointy’, and he didn’t recognize half of them. “What language is that?” he asked.
“Bengali,” Sevita replied. “It’s a newsletter from home. I used to be part of a society, and a friend of mine who’s still part of it occasionally sends them to me so I can stay up-to-date.”
“A society? What kind?” Ravi asked, opening the letter from the school. It was for the cheerleading squad stuff. The second page was a calendar that listed all the major dates. Pre-season prep started on August 1st.
“Yes. A tiger society. All the major tiger clans in southern Asia are part of it. The society keeps track of births, deaths, major events, and provides important information and suggestions. Things like medical discoveries, warnings about illnesses that we’re particularly susceptible to, and so on. They have an annual meeting called the Baghadera Parisada, the ‘Tiger Council’, at the start of summer. The council has issued a reminder not to take any unnecessary risks, as we’re a vulnerable species,” Sevita said, then sighed. “But we’ve always been a vulnerable species.”
“Are any Amur tigers part of the society?” Ravi asked, thinking about his girlfriend, Alex.
Sevita frowned, then looked up at him. “I don’t think so. Just Bengal. The northern tigers never formed clans like we did. If they had, maybe they wouldn’t be endangered.”
“Wait, you mean vulnerable and endangered like... number of people?” Ravi asked.
“Yes. Vulnerable means ten-thousand people or less. Endangered means twenty-five hundred or less,” his mom confirmed. “We’re pretty close to being endangered, but we’re not there yet. One of the society’s main goals is to ensure we stay that way.”
Ravi blinked. “You’re saying that there’s less than ten-thousand of us across a planet of like seven billion people?”
“Less than five thousand, actually,” Sevita said, nodding. “That’s not unusual. There’s tens of thousands of species. I’d guess that in the last fifty-thousand years, over half of us have gone extinct. It wasn’t until the last century that governments started making an effort to prevent species from going extinct, rather than actively trying to exterminate them. You should read about Genghis Khan. He was responsible for the deaths of approximately ten percent of the entire world population during his era and the genocide of literally hundreds of species. Tamerlane was another one, though not as well known.”
“That’s horrible!” Ravi exclaimed, somewhat shocked by the idea.
“Yes,” Sevita agreed, picking up her letter again.
Ravi stood there for a moment, stunned both by the fact that history was so bloody and depressing, and the fact that his mom was so blasé about it. After a few moments he turned and headed back into the living room, looking down at the letter in his paws. He made his way upstairs as he read it, trying to distract himself from the idea that they might go extinct.
By the time he reached his bedroom, Ravi had finished skimming the letter. The young tiger flopped down on one of his bean bag chairs. He reached over and picked up his phone up off the nightstand and called Alex, waiting only a few seconds before shi answered.
“Hey Ravi? What’s up?”
“Hey Alex. Have you read the letter from school, yet?” he asked.
“What letter?” the younger tigress on the other line asked in return.
“They’ve sent out the cheerleading schedule. Looks like the pre-season training camps start on August first. There’s some consent forms they need filled out. You’ll need to hand them in on the first,” Ravi explained.
“One sec,” Alex said. “Mom, the school sent some paperwork we have to fill out. Did you get the mail today?” shi asked, clearly not talking to him. Ravi waited a few seconds, then Alex spoke again, this time obviously talking to him. “Looks like Mom forgot the mail. I’ll go get it tomorrow. How’s Aruna doing?”
Ravi sighed. “She keeps forgetting that she’s not supposed to be walking around. She’s torn the stitches three times now, and ruined two socks. At least her foot’s healed enough that it’s not gonna tear so easily now. They’ll be removing the stitches and taking a final scan on Wednesday.”
“Think you can give me that crash course on first aid this weekend? Mom said I don’t need to attend the Saturday class; I think she realized how exhausted I was last Saturday. So I can come over earlier.”
“Of course. Mom said you’re welcome to come over any time on Saturdays,” he pointed out.
“Sweet,” Alex said, sounding more upbeat. “I love you Ravi. You don’t know how hard it is to pretend that we’re not dating. I wanted so bad to give you a hug today. I think Mom knows it too; she tapped my shoulder when I started walking towards you in the lounge after class.” The tigress sighed wistfully.
“I love you too, Alex,” he replied. “Umm, is there someone else at the dojo who goes to school with us?” Ravi asked, frowning in concentration. “Wait. That bird, uh... the one with black feathers and a red crest. Does she go to SCMS?”
“Yeah. Ginnie’s the same grade as me, too,” Alex said, ruefully. “She was in the lounge with us. That’s probably why.”
“Ahh,” Ravi said, nodding even though Alex couldn’t see him. “Maybe we could go hang out in the office for a few minutes after class?”
“Oooh, that’s a good idea,” Alex exclaimed happily. “I wish I could see Aruna every day too.”
Ravi was silent for a second before responding. “Ehhh, you will when she’s in sixth grade.”
“That’s gonna be forever,” the tigress whined. “Think we could convince your parents to let us do mid-week sleepovers? Seeing her once a week sucks.”
Ravi laughed. “If you had to live with her, you might change your mind. She does get annoying sometimes.”
“I do not!” Aruna yelled from her room, obviously having been listening in on the conversation.
Ravi laughed even harder, then clarified what he’d said. “Only sometimes, sis. Like when you go walking around on an injured foot and tear your stitches.”
Aruna huffed with indignation and Ravi smiled to himself. “Anyway... I’ve gotta go take a shower.”
“Okay. I love you. Tell Aruna I love her too.”
“Aruna,” he called. “Alex says shi loves you.”
“I love hir too!” Aruna called back.
“You heard?” he asked.
“Yeah. Goodnight, Ravi.”
“Goodnight, Alex,” the young tiger said, then ended the call. He stretched, then rolled off the bean bag chair in search of his pajamas.
