The music made Mae's heart thump, the rhythmic banging of Casey's drums behind her setting the pace of her own nimble fingers. Her fleshy pads were gaining a slight callous from how often she played Gregg's bass in Casey's garage, the fox himself thrashing out notes from his guitar like a creature possessed. Angus would always growl into the microphone, as if he had a deep sadness that churned into anger by the time it reached the surface during their performances to no one. Casey always pushed for this, saying it was good for them, saying that one day they might get noticed and leave Possum Springs behind as they go on some grand tour.
But Mae wasn't playing Gregg's old base in Casey's garage, not really. She held her own bass in her attic bedroom, not even plugged into her amp, her eyes screwed shut as she just remembered. She tried to remember more strongly; she wanted to feel Casey's drum solo shaking her bones. It wasn't working, the rhythm she'd almost returned to leaving her and ripping tears from her eyes as it passed. She threw her bass against the floor and slumped into her futon, crying into her barely calloused paws, the skin having healed and softened while she was away at college. Casey seemed to be fading away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, unless she did what Gregg and Bea were too afraid to do.
There were recordings, she knew. Trashy recordings of their practice sessions were out there, waiting to be heard, waiting to transport her to the past for just a little while. A small piece of Casey's life that she could still touch, but none of it was hers to have. She had to do it, not just for them but for herself. She had to tell Casey's parents what really happened to him, and she knew only one person who was strong enough and kind enough to help her do it. She opened her laptop and began to type. "Hey Angus. I need your help. When's your next day off?"
Her arms trembled with emotion at her sides, her mind transported to a piece of her past, staring at the door to Casey's house as she stood transfixed on the porch. "You can do this, Mae." She felt a comforting paw on her shoulder, Angus' presence helping her arms to steady while she lifted her knuckles to the door and finally managed to knock.
"Thanks for reminding me to like, check that they're off too. Also for like, calling them so I didn't have to." Angus just gave her shoulder a light squeeze, and Mae was overcome with a thrill of sudden confidence in her decision. Angus was the right guy for this. She knew he'd be able to help the older cats the same way he was helping her.
There were light, padded footsteps getting closer, until Casey's mother was peeking through the door, but she wasn't peeking long. She recognized them immediately and threw the door ajar, spreading her arms wide with a toothy smile. "Eeeee! Oh would you look who it is! George, little Mae's come to see us, and she brought the big guy!"
"Well get them in here, already!" Her husband's voice shouted back from the kitchen. "I need the opinion of a true culinary artist!" Angus had kept in touch with the Hartley's and they liked to profess his skills as a cook, the compliment making Angus scratch the back of his neck nervously as Lillian moved out of his way. He glanced at Mae to assess if she'd be alright without him, and she gave a tired nod. Lillian was a bit puzzled by this display, but she shrugged it off when Angus went to help George finish up dinner.
Lillian still had those brilliant, recessive cobalt eyes, and her orange fur shined like she'd just showered. It was a little odd that she was already wearing a nightgown at four in the afternoon, but since she had the day off Mae couldn't really blame her for it. She used to dress to impress whenever anyone was coming to her home, even if they were just Casey's school friends, but that was obviously no longer the case. She wasn't wearing any makeup either, further evidence that she was already prepared for bed even before dinner. When she turned from Mae to the hall her posture slackened slightly, and her steps were slow and methodical, as if she still hadn't managed to move on from Casey's disappearance.
Mae wasn't fairing any better than her hostess, glancing every-which-way at the pictures on the wall, most of them featuring Casey, and a number of those had her in the shot with him; they had been like brother and sister since elementary school. Mae thought for just a second that it might be easier to shut it out, to put her head down and ignore the memories on the wall, but she refused to. This was why she came: to remember him more clearly. No matter how painful it was, she needed this, and by the time she and Lillian were sitting on the living room couch they were both wearing small smiles.
They talked uncomfortably about inconsequential things while Angus and George were still cooking, Mae dodging any questions about college and Lillian insisting that Mae call her "Lily" rather than "Mrs. Hartley." Mae idly wondered what the Hell was taking so long as Lily asked yet another question she didn't want to answer, turning on the TV and switching to the news at the same time.
"Are you still avidly avoiding dresses? I know a few styles that would look splendid on you." Mae just shook her head, not really paying attention as she saw the commercial end and the cast picked up again.
"The list of missing persons has reached a staggering twenty-one in the little town of Possum Springs, all of these having been confirmed to have disappeared on the same day. With the Possum Springs police chief among the lost souls, the state police are preparing a plan to intervene on behalf of the understaffed Deep Hollow County. If you missed our earlier broadcast, three of the county's officers, including their police chief, are also missing. The state commissioner had this to say."
"As far as I'm concerned these crimes are clearly connected. I don't think all of these individuals went missing of their own accord at the same time, that's obvious to anyone. The perpetrators already know that we know this, and I can assure you that whoever dares to target our citizens and our officers will be brought to justice."
Angus and George had just stepped into the room at the tail end of that statement, and Angus gently took the remote from Lily's paw to turn off the television, standing in front of it and facing the rest of the room. There wasn't enough room on the couch for four people, just three, but Mae stood up to join Angus anyway, clearly dividing the room into those who knew and those who would be told as George sat by his wife and gripped her paw. Mae stared into his strong green eyes, reminded of Casey's, but they looked so different on George, so full of fear and uncertainty now that the atmosphere had so drastically changed. Had Casey's eyes looked like that when the cult pushed him into that hole?
"I guess we don't have to bring up all the missing people ourselves, now that the news has summed it up for us." Mae was impressed with how composed and articulate Angus was, gripping his paw to show her support. "Those people didn't just disappear. They formed a cult in the 90s." Lily visibly scoffed and George looked confused, but Angus didn't let it bother him, continuing his explanation. Angus started listing off names of people he had researched who had disappeared since the cult's supposed founding decade, even though most of them had been people society didn't care to keep track of like Bruce. Eventually Angus got to the name that made Mae tense up and grip his paw harder, "...and your son, Casey Hartley, are the nine people out of thirty-nine sacrifices they claim to have made to this god of theirs that I can confirm."
"What the Hell are you doing!?" Lily shouted, shaking so erratically that Mae wondered how long she could stay upright in her seat. "Are you trying to.. to help us m-move on, or something?"
"Lily," Mae tried desperately to interject, but Lily was furious.
"I don't want to hear it, Margaret!"
"Stop." Angus stepped to the left in front of Mae, putting himself between her and Casey's shocked parents. "We're telling you the truth. Look up those names in the library records. All those people who just disappeared got exactly what they put plenty more people through. They deserve to die, and they will."
"Is that supposed to console me? Is that supposed to make this okay?" George seemed to be accepting what Angus was telling them, keeping his paws on his wife's shoulders as if to restrain her from getting physical. His eyes were already wet with tears, mitigated only by his confusion. What Angus was saying seemed so insane, but he'd never heard Angus lie.
Mae, on the other hand, was barely restrained in time, Angus holding her to his chest as she stormed forward, glaring at Lily. "It's not okay!" she screamed, "and it will never be okay! We aren't here to help you move on. I haven't moved on! The only reason I came here is because I thought you deserved to know the truth." By the time Mae was finished and her anger had dissolved into despair there was no longer any question that they were speaking truth, Lily crying into her husband's shoulder while Mae collapsed in Angus' arms, both of them too shaken to stand and soon seated on the floor. "They shot at me," she continued, her voice sad and distant. "Then they apologized. Said I was family, that they wanted me to do what they did." Angus gulped as Lily's grip on George tensed. He was sure Mae shouldn't be saying so much about the details, but she kept going. "So why did they kill Casey? He was.. he was my family, too." George was crying as hard as his wife at that point, and Angus had to remove his glasses to wipe at his own eyes, unsure how to help any of them.
It didn't last forever, and the Hartleys showed their fortitude by having dinner with Angus and Mae as they'd decided before receiving the news. Lily went to bed early, since she had an early shift the next day, and George made copies of the old band recordings for Angus and Mae at Mae's request. He showed them Casey's room as he retrieved the original files, everything exactly as it had been when Casey was taken, save for all the dusting and sweeping that kept the place spotless. Perhaps they would finally re-purpose the room, now that they knew Casey wasn't coming home, but as Mae ran her fingers along the edge of one of his drums she hoped that they never would.
They had resolved to walk the whole way back to their homes, since Bea was using her truck for work and they hadn't wanted to talk to her about what they were doing, but George had insisted on driving them when he realized this. Angus was dropped off first, since his apartment was on the way to Mae's house, and then the two cats were alone, a moment of silence passing between them before George spoke in a calm, soft tone. "He loved you, you know." Mae glanced his way, but his eyes remained focused on the road.
"Yeah, we were pretty close friends."
"You know I didn't mean that." Mae looked away, unable to form a verbal response, letting the memories churn as moments that almost confirmed what she was hearing surfaced. "When Gregg stopped you mid confession – and trust me, he knew that's what you were trying to do – Casey had a lot of bad things to say about him after that, until one big fight between them that finally helped Casey understand that Gregg had nothing against you. He was just gay. They were both young, and Casey didn't understand at first. Still, that's when Gregg started helping Casey with you, as he put it. It didn't matter how many times I told them to stop playing games and just do something direct. I wanted him to just ask you, but then you met Cole and instantly they both hated him, especially Gregg. Now you know why. There really wasn't any other reason."
Mae wanted to cry, but she didn't have the energy to anymore. "Thank you for telling me."
"You started this truth business. I'm glad I know what really happened to him, thanks to you. Lily will thank you too, when she comes to her senses." They looked at each other directly, unspeakable emotions passing between them. Finally George just smiled, gestured with his head, and watched Mae open the door on her side of the car. He kept his eyes on her and the area around her house while she walked to the front door, his expression souring as he looked for anyone else, now sure that there was at least one person out there who wanted to hurt Mae badly for fighting back. If he had to he would die protecting her, protecting any of them. He wouldn't let Casey's friends leave the world the same way he had.
But nothing terrible happened this time, not with him sitting there and watching. Stan Borowski opened the front door, looked at George through the window, and gave a small nod of understanding just as Mae passed the threshold. Mae hadn't seemed to notice any of it.
While George was driving away and Mae was climbing to her room, looking as if she was in a trance, Stan pulled the tooth she'd given him from his pocket, staring at it and muttering, "This house is haunted," back at himself. "I'm starting to see what he meant by that." Then he closed the door and navigated to the master bedroom where his wife was already sleeping.