She knocked. She barely had enough time to begin catching her breath when the door slowly crawled open. She was looking upward, expecting to see the face of Miss Rachaun, but all she saw was the tips of two little black ears, which slicked back. Her eyes wandered to level with her friends', and it was unnerving to see him in such a state.
Though his face and posture and everything else looked completely Ket-esque, his eyes had lost the piercing gaze which completed his personality and made him whole. They were like empty yellow marbles shoved haphazardly into the head of a stuffed mount. They were dim, and he blinked them as if he could only see a few feet into a fog.
She embraced him, no-smothering rule forgotten, stepping in and shutting the door with her heel. She held him silently for a moment, eager to ask questions but staying her tongue. At last she let go, held him by the shoulders, and looked back onto his face. That little wound she'd given him, barely the size of a dime sitting on his cheek, was scabbed over and left bare.
"He came?" She asked, trying to be quiet and vague.
Ket nodded.
"Is he coming back?"
"No." The word was definitive and sure-spoken.
She led him to the kitchen table. They occupied the two little chairs, sitting side-by-side, angled slightly toward each other. On the table was a little plate with two raspberry-flavored pop-tarts. "Not able to eat?"
He bit his lip. "I'm starving," he said dully, "I want something warm but all I have are Pop-Tarts." He crossed his arms on the table and rested his chin upon them, staring at the plate. "Sick of Pop-Tarts..."
"I wish I'd brought my microwave..." she replied, a little hesitant to be jocular, "I'm sure some Insta-Mac would do the trick."
"S'fine," He said flatly.
"You want me to try to look for something?"
"I already looked, there's nothing. Don't worry about it."
If Kval was right, he'd said the phrases that meant he'd given up on eating, despite being hungry. That wouldn't do. Emeral had to think fast--something warm and filling. Ket's home didn't have a microwave, but they did have a toaster. Toast was warm but butter wasn't filling; well, not butter-butter...
"Where're you going?"
"To get you something warm to eat."
"But I already..." He trailed as she looked back at him with a smile. He emitted an acquiescent sigh.
"Women are culinary geniuses; I have something in mind you'll love." She knew his kitchen a little bit. Not every nook and cranny but if you asked for something general she could probably find it. And that's what she was hoping for. She opened the fridge and pulled out the bread, retrieving a single slice. "If you want more, I can make more, but I'll start you off with just one, in case you don't like it."
She expected the absence of response as she went to the counter and used Ket's stool to get to the toaster. "Which number works best?"
"Four," he replied.
She turned the dial. depressed the catch, and then went to the silverware drawer to get a knife. That procured, now came the hard part. She flipped a little switch to turn on the dim counter-light, and started going through the cabinets. She tried to narrow it down, at first only opening cabinets full of pots, pans, and Tupperware all in a haggle. But then she started getting warm, she found one that had a box of cereal, crackers and some other dry stuff, including Pop-Tarts. She had seen jelly in the fridge so she knew there had to be--"Aha!"
Ket watched as the toaster popped. In a hurry, Emeral skipped twice to the stool and pulled the toast out, setting it on a plate that had already been sitting on the counter. She had a jar she'd gotten from one of the cabinets, and he saw it was peanut-butter when she set it down.
She unscrewed the blue cap and sniffed--ugh, that's...kinda old... But she was already committed now. She dipped the knife in, and began spreading it on the warm toast. She didn't know how much to put on, so she just covered the toast with a pretty thin layer. Satisfied, she capped the jar and took the plate over to the table.
"Grandma used to make this for me all the time, quick'n'easy--but you'll want something to drink with it."
"That's okay," Ket replied, dismissing the idea.
"Please? Drink something too, you know how peanut-butter gets."
He sighed. "Fine, I'll get some water," he motioned to get off the chair but her hand physically pushed him back into it--gently.
"You relax, I'll get the water." So she did; two glasses, one for her so he didn't feel like he was waited on. Just a little ice, the way he liked it. She returned to the table, and saw he hadn't yet started on the meal.
"I'm just waiting for it to cool a little," he said, but she wasn't offended he hadn't started chowing down yet.
She just smiled in response, sitting down so that she didn't quite face him--no matter who you were or what just happened to you, having someone watch you while you eat was always agitating. "Um...just a little question," she said meekly, "but, where's your mom?"
"Gone." He replied.
"This late? When will she be home?"
"Not until real late tomorrow."
If his voice was this dry already, peanut-butter probably wasn't such a good idea after all.
Emeral's eyes shifted to him and back. "Wait, so...you're going to be home alone tonight?"
He nodded, beginning to bite into his meal. He must have read her mind. "It's fine," he said, tally: two, "I'm used to being home alone. And I'm old enough to watch the house for a night. Don't worry about it." His chin stretched forward like a turtle as he took another bite.
I don't think so! You're only eleven... Keep opinions to yourself; keep opinions to yourself. But it wasn't right--how could his mom just leave him alone?
"Your phone's ringing," Ket said.
"It is?" She looked to her backpack. Keep disturbances to a minimum: failed. But, an idea slammed her in the face. "Be really quiet okay?" She went to her backpack and fished the phone out. It was mom. "Hi mom! ...Oh...Jeez, listen, Lyza just called--she wanted to know if I wanted to spend the night. No, no, actually I was just about to call you--yeah...yeah...no I don't need a ride. No really mom, it's not that dark out yet, besides I'm already on my way over. ...Yes, I have pajamas over there..." She started pacing, "Yeah. Okay, thanks mom! I'll see you sometime tomorrow okay?" She made a smooch-noise over the phone, and then hit end-call.
"You're going over to--?"
"Hang on," she said softly, her thumb eliciting little beeps from the phone as she spoke idly; "Give me o-n-e sec-ond," Another beep, and she lifted the phone to her ear. "Hey, Lyza? It's Emmy. Listen, is anyone around? No, I wanna talk to you but I just don't want anyone else to hear. I...I need to ask a huge favor. Yeah, that kind of favor--listen, I know it's really sudden so if you don't want to do it I'll under--" She blinked in a moment of silence, and then her face visibly relaxed. "Oh Lyza you're a life-saver!"
Another moment of silence, and then Emeral chuckled, "Yes, it does have to do with my big secret, what else? I'll tell you eventually..." she glanced at Ket. "I know...it's mean. But, it has to be a secret...at least for now. Trust me, if you knew it'd cause a lot of trouble for you." Emeral laughed. "Okay, thanks again, an--oh wait I almost forgot!" She switched the phone to her other ear, "I just need to know, about how long does it take to get from the library to your house, like fifteen? ...More like twenty? Okay, thanks again. Bye-ya."
The phone clicked against the silence. Emeral smiled with chagrin and then turned to face Ket; his sandwich had been devoured and his glass almost completely consumed. "Wow, you really inhaled that thing didn't you?"
"It was good." He admitted bashfully. "But...what was that all about?"
"That," she said, taking his hand; he rose off the chair and followed as she led him up the stairs, "Was me making sure you're not by yourself tonight."
He halted halfway up the flight, "But...wait, you mean you're spending the night here?"
She shushed, as if a giant were upstairs slumbering, and coaxed him the rest of the way into his domain.
"But Emeral...where are you going to sleep? What if your mom finds out? What if--"
She pushed him gently so that he sat down on the couch, and leaned toward him, hands on her knees. "Ket, it's fine," she said, using the phrase herself, "Don't worry about it." She smiled, and gently rubbed his forehead. "Now, is your tummy happy?"
He nodded, ignoring--but liking--the silliness of the phrase.
"Good. But peanut-butter needs to digest, so you lie down on the couch here, and I'm just gonna do a few little things..."
He watched, now lying down, as she went off twoard his bedroom and the bathroom to turn on the lights. She shut the bathroom door slightly, as it was more in his field of view, and then went to the big overhead light she'd turned on as they entered; and promptly put it out.
The room became dark, but the lights from his room and the bathroom gave enough to see by without being disrupting. Satisfied, she went back to where he lie on the couch, and went onto her knees so that her head rested on the cushion with his.
Their faces met for several seconds.
"Comfy?"
He nodded.
"Good," she smiled, and put a hand on his arm, "You just relax for a bit. I'll be real quiet, until I have to call mom. I'll be sitting right here out of your way, so just tap my shoulder if you want my attention okay?"
He nodded once again. His arm was squeezed, and she turned around, getting comfortable sitting on the floor. He watched her ears twitch and set. The room was quiet; the house was quiet. His stomach was warm. It felt like it was very late, but it was barely after six.
After a moment, he did as she suggested; he closed his eyes, and let his mind wander.
Then his eyes opened again. It was quiet, dim and immediately he noticed the absence of a certain presence. Had he fallen asleep? For how long? He sat up, looking around. It felt like she hadn't even been here, like it was all a dream or convenient hallucination, but then the room was just as she'd left it. Unless he dreamed that part too.
"Hey, mom?" A low murmur came from behind the bathroom's partly-closed door. "Yeah I'm there. Cuz her dad went to bed early, so we're playing quietly. Cards for now, not much else to do. Okay, love ya." A soft click, a couple shuffles of feet. A little bit of shadow appeared and stood for a moment, and then quiet as a mouse Emeral slipped through the rift of light, back into the room.
She glanced over at him and sort of froze, "Oh, sorry," she whispered, still tip-toeing in pink socks to the couch. "Did I wake you?"
He shook his head.
"Good," she sat back down, still looking up at him from up over her shoulder. There was just the oddest expression on his face. "What, did you think I ditched you?" That made him break it and shake his head.
"No, I just...was confused for a second."
"Oh?" She reached around and set a hand on his shoulder, "You can sleep if you need to, I don't mind; I'll be quiet and promise I won't go anywhere this time."
He looked down at her. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't even want to be lying on the couch from the beginning, but she'd put so much effort into making things just-right that he didn't want to speak his mind. But now he maybe could do what he'd wanted since the beginning.
He sat up, and scooted forward on the couch until he was past her. Then he slid off the sagging cushions to her level on the floor. She regarded him with soft eyes and a light smile, distant but comforting. He was not too close yet, but he began shifting a little closer, so that a space about the size of his hand was between them. He lifted his right arm, and very slowly placed it across her shoulders.
She did not move away, protest, nor acknowledge the action.
"Is this...all right?" He asked, troubled with how to say the words.
"Of course, silly," she said very softly. "But," she reached back and gently coaxed his arm off, "Something's a little off." She set his arm aside where it had been a second ago and then sat up, straight as she could. Since his shoulders were set a little higher than she could comfortably reach, she scooted over, and directed him to lean just a little so that her arm could rest around him. "Isn't this better?"
"I guess so..."
She sort of frowned. "I mean...if it isn't that's okay," she said very lightly, "It just seems like you're the one that needs the arm around the shoulder." She adjusted as he adjusted; she was a little off-comfortable. He was sort of heavy, leaning on her, but then again what did she expect? She just had to remember not to smother.
But this wasn't going to do the trick. He was still hiding in that little shell, and she wanted nothing more than to get him out of it. A little bit of panic spread through her; what if he didn't feel better after tonight? He wouldn't if he didn't talk about it, at least a little...but how could she tell when he was ready to? She couldn't egg him on, Kval said that was bad...
She took a risk. "Did he...stay long?" Neutral questions, at least they felt neutral, and they were still yes-or-no.
"He came last night, and then again this morning." Ket replied.
She waited a while, let the silence keep the calm in the air, like waiting for the cannons to reload. After working up her nerve, she asked another question. "Did your mom leave...because of him?"
"After he did. She had to get away from everything for a little while."
Silence again, but a little shorter this time. "Do you feel safe?"
He shifted, adjusting as if to nestle more closely into the crook of her armpit. "Yeah." His reply was simple this time.
It made her heart jump; was he...being affectionate? She swallowed, adjusting herself so that she nestled closer to him. She began stroking the bulk of his arm.
"Why here?" She asked, a bold non-polar question; "I mean," she followed, "Why don't you feel safe with your mom?"
He took a second to answer. "Cuz she goes to a motel. It's just...I don't like those places."
"But..." she hesitated, "Aren't you afraid of your dad coming back?" Really it was a question for her too; she didn't think of it until now, but what if he did come back?
"He won't, I promise," Ket said, as if he read into her worries. "He never comes back later. He did what he wanted."
"Why..." The polar-questions were out of the bag, it seemed, "Why did he come in the first place?"
"I think...he's here for business," Ket said genuinely, "And he just...swings by." His hand flung in the air, gesturing an arc.
"What does he do at work?"
"I don't know," he replied very quickly, and then followed more slowly with, "I don't wanna know."
The silence came again, and he broke away from the comforting hold, sitting upright and cross-legged. He was thinking deeply, she could tell, for his lemon-colored eyes almost glowed anew with that Ket-esque gleam. Maybe he was ready now, but she still had no idea how to lead him on. She would have to take another risk.
"Can you tell me...what he looks like?"
Another strategic moment of silence.
Ket held his hands up at his side, like he was imitating a monkey. "He's big--not fat-fat but still really big." There was a moment's pause as Ket thought up the words, "He's got a really deep voice--he coughs a lot cuz he smokes. He smells smoky too; his clothes, his breath. They both did, but mom quit." He fidgeted with his hands in his lap. "He's...not really as mean as I remember."
That was it--that was her line, her way to be the listener.
"Was he mean to you and your mom?"
"I..." He looked up abruptly, then turned his head away.
No. Don't clam up, please. "Ket," she placed a hand on his knee, "You...you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But, I want you to know I'm...I'm here for you; just like you wanted me to be."
A moment passed and his hand rested on hers. "I know," he replied, "It's just...I don't want you to think badly about him. I mean...I hate him," he said with melancholy frankness, "but...he's my dad."
"I won't," she assured as she rubbed his knee, her claws gently scratching at him through his jeans, "I won't judge your family, I promise. I'll just listen, and I want you to say how you feel--if you want to talk at all, but you don't have to." She insisted.
"He," Ket started, then stopped, rethinking. "The first thing he said was, 'Still cleaning up your life, Micah?' I know, my mom's name is--"
"It's nice," she interrupted, "and no I didn't think it was 'Mike'."
Ket opened and closed his left hand. "He does that; he says things that aren't really insults, but they're awkward and ...really they're true but..." He gritted his teeth. "We weren't expecting him to come so soon...so we hadn't gone to the store yet. 'No food on the table?'," Ket said, emulating the deep and gravelly voice of his dad as best he could. It looked like he was even mimicking the face of his father.
Emeral kept silent--she tried not to form an opinion in her head but she couldn't help doing so.
"The worst part is...it's like...mom doesn't get mad right away, like I do--but I can't show it, or he'll call me a whiny kid. I think..." He took a breath, "I think it's cuz she still loves him."
She moved closer to him, and took both of his hands into hers.
"You...probably don't want me to bother you with that stuff," he said softly.
"I do," she said with equal softness, "I can tell it bothers you a lot."
"It's so stupid!" He hissed, slapping his left knee and gesturing while he spoke, "After what he did to her, why does she still like him?"
Emeral became nervous for a second--was she supposed to have an answer? "You mean, how he cheated?"
His head dipped once in response.
She began to gently squeeze his hand in little beats. "I looked it up online a long time ago, and I didn't want to tell you cuz it...he didn't cheat in a game. He--"
"I know what it means." Ket said flatly. "I just didn't want to have to explain it...when I first told you." He noticed arrhythmia in her squeezing; he turned his hand over and met her palm, squeezing back. "I...didn't want to because I didn't think...I'd ever really talk to you again."
Nervously he looked to her, as if she was supposed to take that as an insult. But she smiled back. "I didn't think I'd ever be here listening." She replied with a squeeze.
He took a breath, and asked rhetorically, "Aren't you going to ask why the band-aid isn't on?" He pointed to the visible wound.
"I noticed it was gone but...that's not so important."
"Dad and mom got angry at each other after a while, and mom left--not to the motel, just to walk around outside."
"She left you there with your dad--alone?"
He nodded, "Dad...is intimidating, but he'd never hurt me. Not...physically..." His voice trailed for a moment, "Anyway, he asked about the band-aid. 'Who put that on your face? Your mom can't dress a salad let alone a wound!'"
Emeral felt the underside of her jaw burn; under any other circumstances that would have been a funny joke. "Did you...lie?"
"No," Ket replied, and smiled, like he was getting a last-laugh, "Well, not exactly. I told him I got it because I was pushed and lost my balance, and the nurse fixed it up."
Emeral smiled, although very weakly. "Half-truths are still truths, I guess..."
"He told me to take it off."
Emeral flinched. "Why?"
"He wanted to see the wound. 'Better be life-threatening or else you're a pussy.'"
"What's a--?"
"Don't ask." He said quickly. "But I told him no."
"Why not? It's just a band-aid."
He looked away for a second, then replied. "Yeah. But you put it there."
For a second her mind tingled. The implication was deafening; had he just put her above his own father? No. Not now, she had to keep it up--she was doing good. He was just smiling earlier, she was doing something right. "So...how did it come off?"
Ket's hand rose to his cheek, pantomiming a slow, peeling motion, "He did. Just... like... this."
"He did slow?" A nod. This father was insane; the worst pain ever was slowly peeling a band-aid off--at least to her experience. No opinions... She feebly reminded herself. "So...then what did he say after he saw it?"
Ket waited almost a full minute. He blinked several times. Emeral became a little nervous, her mind scolding her tongue for going so far over the line.
She saw his lips part, saw words spill out before she heard them, and when they finally reached her ears, electricity shot through her from whisker to tail.
"Do you...still want to be my girlfriend?"
The question hung in the air between them like a drifting feather. He was watching her, the light reflecting off the bridge of his nose and strands of whiskers. He was breathing very slowly, very quietly and suppressed.
"Wh...what?"
"Do you..." he had to glance down, "Do you still want to...to be my girlfriend?"
She swallowed, and realized her hand was underneath; she moved it so she was on top. "Listen, Ket, a lot's happening to you all at once--my outburst yesterday, your dad... other stuff--so maybe...maybe I can answer that a little later?"
Ket's lips parted a little, then pursed back together. He returned his gaze to straight-forward, and sighed, defeated.
She squeezed feverishly, "No no!" She growled, "That's not what I meant!" She shook her head. "I just--"
"Dad said." He paused, waiting for her to relax. "Dad said a lot of things today. But out of all of it, the worst thing he said that was that loving someone wasn't worth it. That you're better off being alone, watching out for yourself, not having to support anyone."
Emeral was silent, but she did wonder how their conversation turned to such a subject.
"And you know what the weird thing is?" He looked at her as he asked.
She shrank a little, but responded to the rhetorical.
"I thought the exact same thing." He looked down at her hand, a little bit of guilt on his face. "Well...I did, once. But, you know what I think now?"
She swallowed, "What?"
Ket's voice was hued in quiet defiance; "I think he's wrong." His eyes, now ablaze with his personality, looked directly into hers. "I wouldn't think so if he said it to me a year ago, but he's too late." He moved abruptly, walking backward on his knees and pulling her a little forward, so that they were both kneeling, facing one-another.
She watched with open lips as he leaned forward and grasped both of her hands in his. His torso dipped at the shoulders, looking up at her just a little. He spoke with the faintest sliver of nervousness in his voice.
"I want to prove him wrong," he began, and squeezed her hands more tightly, locking eyes. "And the only way I can do that is if... Emeral...will you be my girlfriend?"
Warmth flooded in her cheeks and crashed like a tidal wave throughout all her body. Her head felt light and hazy, and her brain felt like it was about to erupt in a fantastic display of fireworks and confetti. He may as well have asked her to marry him! The way he was so humble, so soft, and so bold, laying all of his courage and charisma before her, with hope that it would be enough. There was only a second of pause--the time it took for her slow and stupid brain to catch up to her heart--before she tackled him, with every intention and purpose of smothering him; all advice of Kval's forgone to the wind.
They rolled on to their sides, staring into each other's eyes. She moved her lips but nothing came out--the word was stuck. She moved again--it still wouldn't budge.
His face became confused; she tried again.
"--es! Yes!" She finally managed to croak.
He smiled meekly, and squeezed her more tightly.
She realized he was trembling, and for a second her slow and stupid brain thought he was cold.
"There's...something else I need to ask," he whispered against her cheek.
"What is it?" She said into his neck.
"Do you think...I'm a man?"
She froze, her moment of bliss disturbed--but it was necessary. She promised she would help him through, and that took priority, even over her desire to stay locked together, as they were, forever.
She moved, sitting him up so they were kneeling once more, facing each other. A serious look came upon her face--a possessive one. She could have an opinion now, she had stake in him--in his heart. "Tell me exactly what he told you." She spoke with a low growl, as if she would chase after the man and hunt him down for every syllable of malice.
He gave notice to her change in attitude, looked a little afraid of it at first, but then regained himself. "He said men don't wear band-aids. He asked me how I got it again, cuz he didn't believe me. I...I didn't answer. He called me weak. Afraid. 'No son of mine gets beat up by a bully!'; but he wasn't trying to defend me...it was more like he was...what's the word? Disowning?" Ket shook his head. "What's worse is I didn't get beat up by...by the bully...so it was like he was insulting you too, but you didn't do anything wrong.
"I mean...in a way he's kind of right. I'm not afraid of...of the bully, but I am afraid of him hurting other people." He clenched his fists, "But he doesn't understand. If I didn't get...the bully--" he refrained from using Ritzer's name, "to just pick on me, or at least mostly on me, he'd be a lot worse--he's done a lot worse. But the other kids don't really understand that either, so I don't blame them for going along with it." He paused, deepening his voice again, continuing the rant without a break, "'My son fights back.' ...But dad doesn't get that's what they want--that it's just...easier. It's like first rule; don't tense up, or else it gets worse..."
He paused, finally noticing her face. "Emeral?"
Her eyes were dark, her nose hung forward. She made a noise he didn't understand, like she was trying hard to hold her breath in but couldn't. She gripped his shirt and pulled him forward, leaning into him, burrowing her muzzle into his collar, against his chest. She felt his arms reflexively envelope her.
She lurched in his arms, and for a second he was scared. "I-I'm sorry," he said, "I tried not to talk about Rit--him but--"
"Why won't everyone just leave you alone!?" She sobbed, tugging his shirt with every word. "You're nice," she gasped, "and kind; you never get angry, you never hurt anyone..."
He lifted her chin to look at her face. Her cheekfur was damp with tears, and she sniffled and blinked to clear her nose and eyes. His gaze calmed her, sought to soothe her.
"I'm sorry," she said through a sniffle, "I guess I flopped being comforting in the end huh?"
"You did fine," he replied, "I like that you care so much."
She barely had time to react as he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. It was a motion so smooth, like drifting in a gentle wave of water. She felt herself leaning backward as she raised her torso with him to keep the kiss while he wrapped his arms around her waist, locking them securely against the small of her back.
She'd dreamed this moment a thousand different ways. Deserted on a mountain, lost in the forest, at war in the seas, martianed on another planet. Dreamt it with stars overhead, with rainbows and clouds, with the magnificence of the northern lights. Dreamt of it before she slept, dreamt of it as she slept, dreamt of it during school.
But she was here, and all of those dreams looked ugly to her now. The places were just what she felt on the inside: the fury of little bubbles tingling throughout her body. It was like a traffic jam with a million butterflies all trying to get out at once. It was quiet, it was gentle, but most of all, it was just right. In his domain, on this night when both of them should be at their weakest, most fragile and sensitive. Just the two of them. Alone.
Their own little world on Raspberry Line.
