Green Fairy (Dangerous Spirits) (35 page)

Sol half-turned. The insult didn’t sting as much as it would have, because he no longer cared what Taric or anyone thought. Rather than getting angry, he could laugh it off, could come up with a return insult, like, “In what cemetery did you dig up a fox who would let you fuck her?” Xavy particularly, but the other wolves as well, looked sympathetic or uncomfortable, and probably would cheer him standing up for himself. But as he opened his mouth, he felt the pain and frustration in Jean’s account of his friends the wolf and the fox, their scorn and derision. Jean was a complete douche of a person, to go by Sol’s dream, but it was in those moments that Sol thought he was most honest, and it was then that Sol felt most sorry for him.  So on the spur of the moment, Sol walked up to the coyote and stuck out his paw.

Taric looked at it as though Sol were offering him a clump of manure. But before he could say anything, Sol said, “Hey, I never congratulated you on winning the starting spot at second. You’re good and you work real hard, and the team’s better with you there.”

The coyote’s ears flattened. “What the fuck is this?”

Sol saw Xavy smile, out of the corner of his eye, but kept looking steadily at Taric. “Congrats,” he said. “That’s all. You’re a great player. I bet you’ll get a minor league contract when you graduate.”

“I don’t need no meatless asshole to tell me I’m a great player.” Taric snarled.

Xavy said, “Seems like the proper thing to do’d be to shake his paw.”

The coyote looked around at the wolves. Even his friend had looked up from the phone and was watching. “Fine.” Taric grasped Sol’s paw for a moment, then let go.

“Good luck,” Sol said. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Taric stabbed a finger at him. “I ain’t forgot you landed me in detention.”

“Well, keep your paws off my friends and that won’t happen again.”

“You threatenin’ me?”

Sol shook his head slowly. “Nope. Just saying. You leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone and nobody needs to go back to detention.”

The coyote squinted at him. “What the fuck is with you, meatless?”

“His name’s Sol,” Xavy said.

Sol shrugged. “It’s okay.” He was trying not to smile at how off-balance Taric was, at how strange and wonderful it felt to have Xavy stick up for him, at how even more strange and wonderful it felt to realize that he didn’t need Xavy—or any of the other wolves—to stick up for him. He needed a pack, but not their pack; he had his mom, and Meg, and Alexei, maybe, and…and Niki, too, however real he was. So Sol looked Taric right in the eye and said, “See you in detention,” and the coyote said nothing as Sol walked away.

At lunch, he got the vegetable stew because the turkey looked gross, and he ate with Alexei. “You were amazing,” he said.

“It sounds right, yes?” the fox said.

“It sounded awesome. Where did you hear that?”

Alexei grinned. “We have girls in Samorodka, too.” He looked past Sol to another table, and his grin dimmed. “The mail I send you…”

Sol turned and saw the coyote and his two friends, one of whom appeared to be pointing at Sol, but Taric didn’t turn. “Let’s talk after school,” he said. “And don’t worry about those guys. I think that’s over.”

He didn’t follow Taric over to the baseball field after the silent hour of detention, just wandered out in front of the school to wait for Alexei and the late bus. He was leaning back against the yellow brick, breathing in the warm air with his eyes closed, when he heard a quiet, “Hello,” and opened his eyes to see Alexei.

The fox’s ears were back, his tail down. He shifted from one foot to the other. “Why did you not go?” he said.

“Didn’t work out.” Sol was able to say that without thinking about the events of two days ago, at least not very much. His muzzle still ached a little, and his side hurt, but after a day of school, it all seemed much more remote. “I guess I’m stuck here a little longer.”

Alexei looked around. “Thank you for answering my e-mail.”

Sol smiled. “It was really cool of you.”

“Cool? Of me?” For the first time, the fox didn’t look scared. He tilted his muzzle to the side. “Why cool?”

“It was really brave. It’s hard to tell someone something like that about yourself, especially here.”

“It is easier to type.” Alexei gave a bashful smile. His eyes, when he looked up, were a lighter grey than Sol remembered. Niki’s eyes were green, Jean had said, and the shadow in Sol’s mirror had had bright green eyes. But Alexei was not Niki; he was Alexei, and Sol wanted to get to know him, too.

“I guess so.” Sol looked down at his paws and rubbed the back of his right one. “I…I kinda prefer saying it in person, myself.”

He looked up in time to catch Alexei’s transition from confusion to surprise, and then to caution. “I am not certain my English is correct, but…”

The fox’s eyes were wide, almost pleading, ears splayed to either side of his head. Sol knew exactly how he felt. He checked to make sure nobody was listening, unable to stop himself, and then said, “Your English is fine. I’m…I’m gay.”

Alexei smiled so widely that Sol thought he might injure himself, then he clapped his paws together. “This is wonderful!” His tail arched and wagged, and he took a step forward toward Sol, then back. “I am very happy that you did not leave.”

“Yeah,” Sol said. “I think I am, too.”

The rattle and growl of the late bus interrupted them. Sol stepped involuntarily forward, waiting at the curb as the bus pulled up. But when the doors opened, he looked back at Alexei. They could talk tomorrow, of course, in homeroom or at lunch, or after school again. But they were here today, and the sun was breaking through the cloud cover and the ground smelled fresh and new.

Sol waved to the driver to go on without him, and stepped back to Alexei’s tilted muzzle. “I’ll call my parents to pick me up,” he said.

They sat together cross-legged on the lawn out in front of the school. Sol told the fox about Carcy, about their relationship that had built up online and how false it had all been. Telling someone out loud, without having to be on guard against Meg’s cynical assurance that of course the world was a terrible place and what did he expect, kisses and candy, was a great relief. Alexei listened attentively, made sympathetic noises at the right times, and his eyebrows creased in worry when Sol talked, hesitantly, about the ram coming up to his bedroom and taking his paw.

And then, Sol paused. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Ghost?”

“The spirit of someone who used to be dead.”

Alexei smiled. “I know what ‘ghost’ means. I…yes, I suppose. In Samorodka, we say there is haunted house. Old man died many years ago, still hates cubs.” He smiled. “My friend Vasily says he has ghost in his attic. Mother of grandmother…” He searched for the word, then pulled out a netbook while he continued to talk. “Her spirit remains in house, sometimes watches over family, sometimes gets bored and makes noise. Sometimes frightens chickens. Ah! Great-grandmother.” He smiled and closed the computer, his tail flicking. “You see a ghost?”

“I…I might have.” Sol flicked his tail against the grass. “I felt like there was a spirit…stopping me from giving in to him.”

“A spirit of an ancestor, perhaps.” Alexei flicked his ears. “Often our ancestors may remain to protect us.”

“I don’t think it was…I mean, it was a fox.” Sol rubbed his muzzle and laughed. “You aren’t descended from a ballet dancer who lived in Lutèce, are you?”

Alexei shook his head slowly. “Why do you ask?”

“That’s who he was in my…” He stopped himself from saying
dream
. “In my head.”

“My ancestors live in Siberia always.” The fox’s whiskers twitched. “But I am happy I reminded you of him.”

“To be honest…” Sol looked steadily into the fox’s eyes. They weren’t green, and his build was stockier than a dancer’s. But he could easily envision Alexei cheerfully bringing food to a sick friend, could imagine him playing soccer with the fire and joy of a ballet. Perhaps the resemblance did go beyond merely being a fox with a Siberian accent. “You do remind me of him.”

Alexei smiled at Sol, his tail wagging. “What happened with your—with the ram?”

“Oh.” Sol brushed the back of his paw against his muzzle, against his whiskers. He looked up in time to see his father’s car pulling into the parking lot. “He left. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Sol nodded toward the car as it pulled up to the curb, getting to his feet. “My father.”

Alexei scrambled to his feet as well. “I will see you tomorrow?” His tail swished.

“Yeah.” Sol grinned and extended a paw. Alexei shook it, and then watched as Sol got into his father’s car. Sol waved through the window as they pulled away.

“I don’t remember him from the baseball team,” his father said.

Sol shook his head. “He plays soccer.” He leaned back in the seat.

His father snorted. “Soccer.” His wide grey muzzle inclined slightly in Sol’s direction. “You feeling better?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Started eating meat again?”

Sol shifted in the seat, freeing his tail where it was trapped behind him. “Sometimes.”

“Little late for it, but I guess you learned your lesson.”

He’d learned his lesson, all right, but even if he couldn’t tell his father the whole story yet—maybe ever—he couldn’t just stay quiet, either. “It didn’t have anything to do with baseball.”

His father half-turned, keeping one eye on the road. “Don’t argue for the sake of arguing.”

“I’m not.” Sol looked his father right in the eye. “It was my decision to start, and it was my decision to stop. I just didn’t want to do it any more.”

His father raised an eyebrow and then turned to face the road. “All right, then.”

The atmosphere in the car was relaxed, his father’s tail not wagging exactly, but swishing, and Sol ventured a request a few moments later. “Dad, Meg and I have this school project…”

“So work on it at school.”

His father spoke carelessly, but without irritation. Sol plunged forward. “It’s a big project, and I wasn’t going to ask to go over there, but if maybe she could come over just for tonight and maybe tomorrow night if we need the time. It’s due Monday.”

His father sighed. Sol leaned forward. “I’ll leave the bedroom door open.” Partly, he told himself.

They turned onto the main street, heading west. Sol and his father reached for the sun visors at the same time, to block the glaring sun. “Get it done tonight,” his father said. “Mom and I are goin’ out tomorrow night.”

Sol called Meg when he got home. “You can come over,” he said, “but we have to finish the report tonight.”

“Your house smells funny,” she said. “Let’s do it over the ’net.”

“I want to show you this thing I found. It’s from the dream.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll get my things.”

“See you in a bit.”

“Hey,” she said, “You’re not going to make me watch you dream, are you?”

“I’ll wait ’til you leave. I promise.” He grinned and set the painting on the bed, sat next to it, and began reading “Confession” where he’d left off.

You will see at this point how cruelly the world conspired to leave me with no other course of action. If I were to defend our good name, if I were to continue with my life in any sort of respectable manner, well, this courtesan—nay, such a title bestows more honor upon him than he deserves—this blackmailing whore could not be allowed to continue with his plan. You will recall, I hope, the case only two years ago, in which M. De R— was acquitted upon the revelation that the rabbit had been blackmailing his family, threatening their livelihood. Or if not acquitted, I believe the court showed leniency, allowing him to live in his quarters under house arrest. Of course, I would willingly submit to such a fate, for while I do believe my actions justified, I understand that to preserve the appearance of equality, some punishment must be levied. Much as we appreciate the privilege we have earned, the power in this country rests with those who would abolish born privilege as they abolished the King. And so I know that my only chance at clemency rests in throwing myself upon their mercy.

First I had to convince myself that my love was but a phantom, pledged to a creature who did not exist. My love for Niki was true and pure, and he took it with his fangs and devoured it whole. It was only when I realized how cruelly I had been used that I was able to bring myself to do what needed doing.