Forward by the Author
For the first time that I could ever remember, I held my father's hand. It was moments before he passed away.
He had been having severe health problems in the past two years before his death. I forget what the procedure was called, but all I know is that it drained him of his energy and he hated it greatly. One month before his passing, my mom had to leave and go 30 miles away to take care of my aunt who was dying of cancer. During that time my dad got real sick, but refused to go to the hospital. He had basically had enough of the energy draining procedures. I called and called my mom to come back and she finally did just a day before he passed.
When the emergency crew finally came, he was in bad shape. Mom had me take the ride in the ambulance to the hospital with him while she got my brother and contacted my sister to pick her up. When we got to the hospital, he could barely breathe. I didn't know what to do in that situation. All I could do was hold his hand and tell him everything was going to be okay. It was an awkward last few moments. He was having me try to get one of the doctors to get him a bedpan or something to go pee. His last spoken words were "I've never had to pee so bad in my entire life!" Not exactly the last words you want to have before leaving this world.
They got a heart monitor on him and rushed him into a room. I saw him take a few huge gulps of air and then the monitor flat-lined. They pushed me out of the room and into a fancy waiting room which I guess is for relatives of dying loved ones. It took forever for the others to arrive (they didn't know about the room and no one informed them) and I was alone, by myself for an hour. Needless to say it was a really bad night.
The thing is, until that night, I was never really that close to him. He was a Kentucky-raised conservative and I'm a California-raised liberal. He loved horses and I could care less for them. He loved to tell racist jokes and I hated them. But mostly, he was verbally abusive to me and my mom and I always hated him for that. In his final years though, he softened up. He stayed at home and took up cooking and basically mellowed out and became a much different man.
We did have some fond memories together. I had to laugh because his favorite cartoon was "Muppet Babies". Every Saturday morning during the 80's, I woke from my bed to hear this middle-aged truck driver listening to a cartoon about baby puppets. Now here I am. A middle-aged man writing fan-fiction about a city occupied by anthropomorphic animals.
It's been ten years since his death, both those last moments still haunt me a bit. He may not have been the best dad, but he was a good provider and he was MY dad. With that said, I dedicate this story to my father. God rest his soul.
* = See "A Fox in the Jailhouse" for the full back story leading to this short story.
Chapter 1: What's past is present
September 13th, 1999 18 years ago in Barklyn. Just on the outskirts of Zootopia
"C'mon dude!" Said the 15 year-old wolf in the back of the police car. "Lemme out! I didn't do nuthin'!"
"Purse snatching isn't 'nuthin'!" Officer Bogo replied. "Besides, you should consider yourself lucky. I'm going easy on you. By all accounts, I should send you to juvie or even jail! But I've seen what happens when the kids come out. They end up even worse than when they came in. So I'm sending you to your mother. She's waiting for you at home and she sounds real pissed."
"Aww crap! I think I'd-a been better off in jail!"
The cop car arrived in front of the Wolford's home. Bogo pulled out a pawcuffed Tim to present to his mother. "Here you are ma'am. He's your problem now."
Tim's mother was enraged. She slapped her son across the muzzle and pulled on his ear. "Timothy Samuel Wolford you damn mongrel! You are in big, BIG trouble!"
"OW! Dangit ma! You're hurtin' my ear!"
"Damn right I am! I'm gonna bite 'da scruff of yer friggin' neck hard when we get in 'da house! Now you listen up! You're not goin' anywhere near 'dose Los Lobos boys anymore, ya understand me?!"
"Los Lobos are my family!"
"I'M YOUR FAMILY!"
"You aint' never here! Just like dad wuz never here for me!"
"Yer dad was gutter trash who left me the moment I got pregnant with you! But I'm here now for good! We had a class action lawsuit against our company and won big time! I was left with a large, LARGE pension. So I'm gonna be home every day and on yer ass every night! You are goin' back to school ASAP, you understand me?!"
"School ain't never done me any good! You know 'dat!"
" 'Ain't never' is a double negative." Bogo said to Tim.
"Shaddap cop! I don't need no learnin' not nohow anyways!"
Bogo was taken back "That was like...a quadruple negative! Ma'am you better get him back to school before his brain turns to mush!"
"You ain't kiddin'!" Tim's mother replied. "Now you listen good Tim. I'm home now. I'm here for you every day. Yer headin' back to school and if you have any problems with yer homewoik, I'll help ya!"
Bogo corrected her. "Work. Homework."
"'Dat's what I said! Homewoik! Look Tim. I love you. You are the most important person in my life and I ain't about ta give up on you! It's like 'dat song says. Every step ya take, every move ya make, every...cake ya bake, I'll be watchin' youse! If I see ya even chattin' with a Los Lobos member, I'm gonna send Mistah Bogo here after you. You understand me."
Tim said nothing.
"I SAID..Do you understand me?!"
"Most of it, but not all" said Bogo. "Your accent's kinda thick."
"Not you! Him! Do you understand me Tim?!"
"...Yes ma."
"Good!" She turned her attention to officer Bogo. "Thank you for not sending him ta jail sir."
Bogo smiled. "That's quite alright. I think having to deal with you will be even more punishing."
Miss Wolford smiled back. "Yer darn right!"
April 10th 2001
The 17 year-old Tim was at the kitchen table doing his homework. "Stupid algebra! I don't get it! It gives ya 'da answer, but takes away 'da question!"
Tim's mom looked over his shoulder. "Lemme see...Okay look, it's kinda in revoise here. 'B x 45 = 360. You have ta find the value of B right? 'Den you gotta do division instead! 360 divided by 45."
"Ooooh! I can do division. Lemme see..." Wolford wrote it down as a division problem. "...It's eight! 8 x 45 = 360!"
"See? You can do it!"
"' 'Tanks mom! Yer 'da best! I gotta be honest wit' ya. Chico wanted to talk to me 'da other day."
"That Los Lobos punk? What did you tell him?"
"I told him ta go #$% himself. I'm done with all-a dat nonsense!"
Miss Wolford hugged her son from behind and gave him a kiss. "I proud of you son! But watch 'da potty mouth okay?"
"Okay...Mom? I think I know what I wanna do after high school and college. I wanna be a cop like officer Bogo! I wanna help make a difference in people's lives!"
"That's great honey! I'd be so proud!"
" 'Dere's just one thing. I'm doin' okay in my other courses, but I'm failin' grammar."
"Eh. We ain't exactly got much use fer grammar in 'dis house anyhow."
They both laughed together and Wolford's mother hugged him from behind.
May 28th 2007
Tim anxiously waited at the bottom of the stairs near the stage to hear his name called. He had finally passed the academy (by the skin of his fangs) and was about to become a real cop. A goal that would make his mother so proud of him,. There was just one problem. His mother was no where to be seen in the audience. He kept looking at the empty chair waiting for her to show up.
The announcer then said his name. "Officer Timothy Samuel Wolford, 1st Precinct!" Despite not having the best grades, Bogo, who was recently made chief pulled some strings to put him in his squad. He was very proud of how far Wolford had come along ever since he made the decision to bring him to his mother's instead of the jail. A decision he always looks back on with pride. Tim went to pick up his badge and there was a small amount of applause, but his mother was still no where to be found. He went off the stage to talk to Francine Pennington. A fellow cadet who had also just graduated.
"Can you believe this Franky?! My mom puts me through hell ta get me here and she aint even got 'da decency ta show up on time! Where 'da hell is she?!"
"Beats me!" The elephant replied.
Just then, chief Bogo walked up. He had a solemn look upon his face.
"Hey chief!" Wolford said. "Looks like yer my boss now. You have any idea what's holdin' my mudder up?"
"Wolford, I...I have just received some bad news...I'm sorry."
Confusion first hit Wolford then fear. "What news? Chief...where's my mom?!"
"Wolford, I...I'm so sorry!"
Wolford shook Bogo by the waist (which is as high as he could reach him). "Where's my mom dammit?! What happened to her?! I NEED TO SEE MY MOM!"
Present day.
Wolford snapped out of the funk he was in while driving. His captive's words brought him into the past. "Wh-what did you say kid?!"
"Please let me out sir!" said the sobbing 15-year old cougar pawcuffed in the back seat. "I need to see my mom!"
"After what you did today?! Nuttin' doin! You snatched a nun's poise and almost killed my partner!"
Officer Wolford was having a very eventful day. The craziest in his life, in fact.* While investigating a missing Hippo, he tripped a bomb in the hideout of his old gang, the Los Lobos. Luckily he knew of a trap door next to the switch he stepped on. He had three seconds to drop into the trap door and slide down the chute leading to the emergency exit. With a large fireball behind him, he managed to escape, but not without burning a good chunk of his backside including leaving his back and tail furless.
In a risky and vengeful move, he found where the Los Lobos were keeping the hippo and managed to rescue him resulting in a huge car chase. Chief Bogo and the rest of the ZPD were so happy with his success, that he was promoted to sergeant.
However, that was the last of the good news as there was more bad news. No one thought he had survived the explosion. Detective Oats informed Ben Clawhauser of what had happened and Clawhauser informed his newlywed wife, Terry Fangmeyer of Tim's death. Terry and Tim were partners on the force, the very best of friends and even lovers for a short time. She was already under a lot of stress and this news had put her over the top.
While sobbing outside to sister Camella, a cranky nun who was judging the Clawhauser's to see if they were fit to be foster parents (Fangmeyer tends to rush into things), a purse snatcher came and grabbed Camella's purse and took off running.
Incredibly enraged, Terry chased and stalked the purse-snatching cougar into an alley. Drool came off of her fangs as she growled. The young cougar was scared to death of her and was having trouble pulling out a knife to protect himself. As Terry pounced, the cougar got the knife out and she fell right on top of him. The knife cut deep into Terry's ribs and it nearly killed her. She got the purse back, but is currently hospitalized.
When Wolford found out the news of what happened, he told Terry he would find the cougar and bring him to jail. Sure enough, Wolford discovered the kid trying to steal some medicine from a local 24-hour pharmacy. He chased him down and tackled him. The boy tried to get the knife out, but the seasoned cop grabbed his arm and twisted it, forcing the boy to let go of the knife. Wolford then arrested the punk and put him in the back seat of his car. The knife now in his possession.
The young cougar pleaded with Wolford. "PLEASE Mister! My mom needs her medicine! It's the only thing I can do to get her up and out of bed for awhile! She's very sick!"
"Yer 'da one that's sick!...In 'da head!"
The young cougar started sobbing. " 'Dey all crack and want 'dere mommies." Wolford thought to himself. But then he remembered a similar situation 18 years ago. The day Bogo took him back to his mother instead of sending him to jail. Bogo was right. A juvenile is more likely to become a worse criminal when released from jail than if they have somewhere to go and get help. Maybe...
"Where's 'dis medicine?" Wolford asked.
"It's in my backpack next to you. In the front pocket."
Wolford stopped at a red light and looked at the back pack. "If 'dis is a bomb 'er somethin', I'll haunt ya from 'da grave! I already exploded once today!"
He searched the backpack and found the medicine. "Tigernol? Alfalfa Seltzer?! Cramitall?! 'Dese are just painkillers and upset stomach medicine!"
"It's the only thing that makes her fell better for a short while. Makes her like her old self. I'm really worried sir. She's very sick."
Tim gave it some thought. He could be lying, but if he's not, jailing him and letting her go without medicine could be a death sentence. On the other hand, this was the punk who nearly killed his best friend and partner. He had to make a decision. "SIGH! Alright! We're headin' to your place! But if you ain't on 'da up and up, I'll throw ya in 'da woise cell we got! Ya hear?!"
A smile came across the cougar's face. "Oh thank you sir! Thank you!"
"Quit thankin' me and give me directions to yer house."
The cougar sobbed his face into the back seat. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Enough wit' the thanks already! Sheesh!"
Moments later, Wolford arrives at the young cougar's home. "You go in foist. I don't trust ya."
The cougar started calling for his mother. "Mom? Mooom! I'm home! I ummm...have company."
Wolford heard some coughing and wheezing. "I'm COUGH! HACK! I'm here sweetie!"
Wolford entered the room with the cougar. "Oh my God!"
The cougar in bed was so skinny and frail it was hard to recognize her species at first. Her muzzle and eyes had sunken into her face and he could see her collar bone. She was nothing but fur and bones. Wolford thought if he just blew on her, she'd fly away in the breeze. He voice was frail and raspy. He could barley hear her.
The young cougar walked up to her with the pills. "Here mom! I got you your medicine. Can you sit up a bit?"
"COUGH! Yeah. Who's the wolf?"
Wolford finally snapped out of seeing the frail cougar. "Ma'am. I'm officer Tim Wolford. 'Dat medicine yer taking was STOLEN from the local pharmacy by yer son. He wouldn't let it go, so I paid for it. Not only 'dat, he stabbed my partner with a large pocketknife, leaving her hospitalized!"
"JAMES! The frail cougar screamed right before coughing some more. "How could you do this to me?! I can always write you out a check!"
"There's barely any money left in the bank! MY part-time check doesn't come in 'till next week and I was desperate!"
"He even stole a nun's poise!" Wolford noted. "By all rights, he should be in prison right now, but...I can see why he was so desperate. You need to be in a hospital lady!"
"I HATE doctors!" The frail cougar stated. "Besides, it doesn't matter."
Wolford was confused. "...Why?"
She looked at her son. "James, I need you to COUGH! COUGH! HACK! to leave the room for a second. Can you make me a coffee?"
"Right away mom!" James left the room and Wolford was able to talk alone with the mother.
"If I go to the hospital, I won't be coming back home. I just want some final happy moments with my son."
She then coughed heavily into some napkins. There was blood splatters all over the white tissues.
Wolford knew what was going on. "Yer dying. Aren't you?"
"Lung cancer. Terminal. I'm COUGH! COUGH! in the late stages."
"Does yer son know?"
"...No. He just thinks I'm very sick."
"You can't keep something like 'dis from him! One day soon, he's gonna wake up and go to yer room and you'll be dead! We HAVE ta get you to a hospital!" Wolford stated. "Even if yer dyin', 'dey can prolong yer life!"
"No! Please!"
Wolford called 911. "This is officer Wolford of the ZPD. I have a terminally ill cougar who needs immediate medical attention."
"Damn you!"
"I'm doin' this for yer own good and for his. "Dat kid has the right ta know what's wrong with you! I'd-a paid a million bucks 'ta have a nice, long goodbye wit' my mom."
"He'll only worry and we don't COUGH! have the insurance!"
"Yeah? Guess what not tellin' him did?! It caused him ta steal a nun's poise, stab my partner and rob a pharmacy! All 'ta get medicine fer you! You don't wanna worry him?! He's worried sick right now! Don't worry about insurance. If a ZPD officer calls in a medical emergency, the state pays for 'da medical bills if needed."
She realized what she had done. A look of shame across her face.
"If yer in a hospital. At least he'll know you're gettin' 'da medical attention you need and he won't be runnin' around comittin' crimes."
She started to sob. "He dropped out of school to take care of me. He was COUGH! COUGH! a straight A student! I'm ruining his life!"
"Don't say 'dat! Yer his mudder. Any kid would do 'dat fer his mom."
She grabbed Tim's paw which startled him. "Please. COUGH! HACK! Please watch over him. He needs guidance!"
"I...ummm...I."
Just then, James came into the room. "Mom! There's an ambulance at our sidewalk! What's going on?!
"Son...I should have told you earlier but...I'm dying."
Tears started to swell in James' eyes. "No!...You're lying! He told you to say that didn't he?! HE'S LYING!"
Wolford tried to explain. "Listen kid, I.."
"SHUT UP! You don't understand! She's just sick! That's all!"
The mother grabbed her son by the paw. "James. I have terminal lung cancer. I'm lucky if I have days left. I should have told you. I'm COUGH! COUGH! I'm sorry!"
James was in tears. "DON'T LIE TO MEEE!"
"It's true! Honey, I'm so sorry!"
It was then that the paramedics came in and put her on a gurney. James tried to intervene. "No! Nononono! She's just sick! She doesn't need to go!"
They put an oxygen mask over the cougar's mom. "WHEEEZE! It's okay baby. Stay with Wolford. He'll take care of you."
Wolford grabbed him and pulled him away. "Relax kid! It's okay! I'll take you to 'da hospital and you can see her in her room. Alright?!"
James tried to struggle out of Wolford's grasp. "It's not alright! It's not okay! I want to go with my mom! MOMMAAAAHH!"
Wolford held onto the boy tight. He turned his head so the paramedics couldn't see the tears rolling down his eyes. "It's gonna be okay kid. I'm here...I'm here."