Jason wasn't hanging around the tree by the front steps or by the park across the street when school let out. It was just as well, because I didn't want to have to answer any questions about just how my lip became split and my hands scraped up. Yeah, so NOT wanting to share how I was hit from behind while changing back into my clothes during gym, face hitting the locker, then futilely attempting to brace myself from being picked up and crammed inside. They hadn't actually managed to do it as Coach had come in unexpectedly and told us to “stop horsing around”. I could tell by the way his eyes wouldn't meet mine that he knew what was really going on, and didn't care to act on it more than that.
I limped home, my legs sore where my legs had kicked out, hitting the bench with the back of my calves as my legs swung wildly, and my knees and shins feeling bruised where'd they'd tried to lift me and tried to use them to stop my locker bound ascent. My arms hurt too, where hands had gripped and squeezed. I was so pathetic. I heard whispers and the odd laugh as I trudged, grateful to at last reach the bus stop just moments before the bus pulled up. No one else rode this route, so I could at least sit and try to forget the day's bullshit during the ride home.
No one appeared to be home when I got there either, though the front door was unlocked. I trudged up the stairs to my room, where I found Jason sitting on my bbed, reading a book and apparently waiting for me.
“Shit, babe, what happened to you?”
He reached his hand out and gently touched my lip, which began to throb all over again. His face looked concerned and angry at the same time. Also, again with the “babe”. I wondered if he called everyone that or what. I had no idea, because I'd only ever heard him speak to Romney, and no way did he call that guy babe. I shuddered at the notion.
“You okay?” he asked as he pushed me towards the bed to sit down.
“Just some guys at school being stupid,” I said.
I did not want to rehash it. He seemed to get that.
“So uh, got any homework?”
I shook my head. I was all caught up with my assignments.
“Okay, well look, I've been meaning to speak to you, but, uh, the timing wasn't quite right. Yeah, anyway, um, Romney's gone for a couple of days on a business trip, and like, I thought I should talk to you about the tree thing.”
“The tree thing,” I repeated. “You mean the tree thing as in YOUR tree thing, or the thing with the Christmas tree?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that. I mean, both. Uh, it's easier to explain if I show you, and I can now with him gone, right?”
Both, huh? This should be interesting, and yes, waiting until Mr Creepy was gone was most decidedly a faboo idea. An absolutely freakin' marvy idea, in fact, so I nodded. He looked relieved, and took me by the hand. He looked about as if checking for spies again, despite no one else ever being in the house. He led me along the hall and then down the stairs, poked his head into the kitchen as if to scout for any possible on lookers, and then across the kitchen and out the back door. He quickly glanced around the garden. Boy, was he paranoid. Given the general weird state of affairs, I didn't blame him one bit. He smiled then, and let go of my hand. Leaning against the tree, he put his arms around me and drew me to him. Wait, what?
He leaned back slightly as if to lean further back against the tree, taking a half step backwards. I did not have time to register exactly what was happening precisely because one moment we were embracing against the oak, and the next we were not. The space was dim and I could not see where the light was coming from, though it was dappled, as if shining through a leaf canopy. It had a fresh, green sort of smell, and I could see darkness along the sides as if there were walls of some sort. Then it clicked. This must be the In Between.
I looked down at where my hands clutched him, and thought I would pass out. My hands looked strange. They looked almost paw like, with soft red fur shading to white and my nails were now tiny claws. I looked up at Jason, startled. He had a bemused expression on his face. Why wasn't he as surprised as I was? I pulled myself away, and turned away, giving a huff. Something whipped around as I did. Somethings, actually. I felt them smack Jason, so turned, almost fearful to see what they were. I'd half suspected a tail given my paws, but not nine.
I counted them. Yup, nine. They felt solid to me, but had an ethereal look to them, as if they both were and weren't there. They looked like some kind of ghostly fire actually. It was way cool, but I was too busy panicking to appreciate that. What had he done to me?
Jason reached for me again, wrapping his arms around my torso.
“Breathe, baby, just breathe.”
I stopped struggling as I realized he was right. I was holding my breath. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I did so in order to center myself.
“That's better. See, babe, you're like me. Well, not exactly. You're a fox, and I'm not. The tree thing, well um, so it seems he found out your dad had adopted a kid he'd found by this tree where he works, yeah? And the kid is way different looking, so Romney, um..checked you out. And since he's a goblin, he could see what you really were, which is um, a fox spirit. Now, he's been “acquiring” us magical folk as he finds us. He uses us to do stuff for him. Some are servants and some he uses as employees and others of us, well, he keeps us around to use whenever it's handy. The more of us he has, the more powerful he feels, as he then has control over our magic too, kinda. You, I don't know if he wanted you for business or if he thinks you being found in the forest is related to that tree he keeps looking for.”
I just stood there. I understood what he was saying, but this was going to take time to digest. I was a fox. A FOX.
“So, um, anyways, I didn't know he already had sights on you. I found you the day before the thing with your dad went down, which I did NOT know about,” he whispered fiercely against my ear as he rested his chin on my shoulder. I believed him.
“He'd always made it clear I was only to go to where he said and no where else, but, there was the thread, and I HAD to find where it went.”
As he said this, he lifted his arm. I looked down. Sure enough, now that I actually looked, there WAS a deep red colored thread tied round his wrist. One end of the tie went inside, and the other...the other went to me. It was around my left wrist, winding up t my wrist, woven into a bracelet sort of pattern, and then carrying off somewhere into the darkness of the In Between. Like my tails, it was both there and not there. I couldn't feel it unless I consciously reached for it. I turned my head and gazed into his eyes.
“It's a Red Thread of Fate,” he said. “For some reason, they've bound us, like soul mates, and uh, more than that, it's the sort of thread that helps hold everything together.”
They? Oh, he meant the three women from the old myths? But those were just stories...I smacked myself mentally. Duh. Sure they were, just like dryads and spirit foxes and goblins and magical trees. I wanted to go lie down. This was simply too much. I sagged against him, and he turned me towards him, breathing in deeply against my neck and rubbing gentle, calming circles on my back just like my Mom used to when I was little. Only Mom didn't make me feel quite like this. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be comforted. If I had to be someone else's for eternity, I guess he wasn't so bad. I opened my eyes suddenly as a thought suddenly occurred to me.
“Hey, where does the rest of the thread go?”
His hands stopped, and he peered into my eyes. In unison, we turned to look at where my other end disappeared. Yes, just where did it go? I bet where ever that was, we'd find some answers.
©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.
