The Road Not Travelled By
A knock sounded at the door of Fox's quarters. He looked at it but remained silent. His attention returned to the monitor before him.
"Fox, I've been looking all over for you. Are you in there?"
No, Peppy. I'm not.
The door slid open without Fox's response. But rather than greet his guest, Fox looked away. "Ah, there you are. I wouldn't have bothered you but I just don't think the patch job you had Slippy do is going to cut it."
Be calm.
"I gave Slippy the day off." The footsteps stopped just beside Fox. He sighed, before swiping away minimising the message."
"Any idea where he might've gotten himself into?"
Fox shook his head.
Peppy Hare remained quiet. But, out of the corner of his eye, Fox noticed his mentor giving him a long, searching look. "Fox?" Peppy sat down and stared at the monitor. "Is something the matter?" Peppy lowered his head but Fox looked down breaking eye contact.
"Fox." Peppy reached a paw out and gently turned the closest thing he knew to a son by the chin. "Fox, look at me." Fox obeyed, then averted his gaze again. "Is something wrong?"
Space was a precious commodity and a decommissioned assault carrier was no exception. Fox's position as Captain afforded him a room larger than most, practically large enough to play a game of driftball though he wasn't in it very often. Nevertheless, the room felt small and claustrophobic. Fox tilted his head toward the prominently displayed message on the monitor. "My mother died three nights ago."
Be precise.
"She passed away in her sleep. Peacefully."
A lump formed in his throat.
The navy thought you how to deal with this. Breathe in. Count to three. Breathe out. Repeat.
The lump in his throat eased, and Fox drew his first easy breath in what felt like hours. "I just..." his words faltered and died.
"Take it easy. Take it as much time as you need."
Fox shut his eyes and a few minutes passed before either of them spoke again. "Mother, " Fox's voice cracked; his mouth worked silently for a moment before he regained its usual force of will. "My mother was on sabbatical with other professors in the capital."
"What happened?"
"A stroke. The doctors said it was painless, " Fox breathed. "I just..."Fox stopped. He tried to soldier on, but it was almost as though his mind had run out of track. He fell silent
"Take your time, son."
"I never really knew her. Right after dad went missing in action I joined the Academy. Didn't really ask my mother. Didn't think I would've taken no for an answer either. After that, it was the Lylat Wars. Then, running this joint. Between off-world graduation and now. I think I wrote to her a half a dozen times over the years." His voice trailed off. "I never really knew her at all."
"Have you told any of the others?"
"Is that the sort of thing I should announce over the intercom?" Fox asked rhetorically. "No, I mean. I've been alone here since morning. Thinking. Just... thinking."
Peppy placed his hands on Fox's shoulders, squeezing it right. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. But I just want to remind you that we'll be there for you. Wherever you need us."
When.
"The funeral will be in three days time, " Fox blurted out at last. "I think I'm going to get some rest and then decide what's next."
"Whatever you want." They stood and walked to the door. "For the funeral," Peppy lowered his head. "Would you like me to accompany you...to the funeral?"
Fox forced a smile. "Thank you, but it's all right."
Peppy opened the door, stepped out, and looked back. "Fox?"
"Yeah?"
"I hope you'll be able to tell me more about her one day."
Fox paused and blinked. "Yeah." Peppy turned around and left, the door closing behind him.
The scent of freshly made Lasagne wafted into Fox's nose. "Anything I can do to help?" Slippy asked.
Fox was in no mood for any visitors but equally, he hadn't the heart to put down his oldest friend. With a resigned sigh, Fox pulled up a seat which Slippy promptly settled in, setting the still oven-fresh tray on the desk."
The pair were silent for a time. "I don't know what to do, Slippy, let alone say how you can help me. What I do know is that I'll tell General Pepper to send a replacement warship to pick up picket duties here. Then it'll be back home."
"Do you know what you're going to say?" Slippy asked.
Fox froze, then his eyes went wide. "A speech?" he trembled but stopped when Slippy touched his shoulder with one his webbed hand.
"Just..." He looked around. "Just tell everyone what you loved about her. About who she was to you and what she did. If you need any help don't hesitate to ask."
Fox nodded slowly. He glanced at his friend and his wide eyes gave him the smile that his muzzle couldn't. "Thanks, " Fox gasped as he drew Slippy into a hug. "But you already have."
The curator vaults on Lylat were massive monoliths to knowledge. Four enormous towers conjoined by an equally massive underground complex of vaults storing the collective works of every known field of science. The walls and floors were kept to certain surgical cleanliness and Fox breathed in the clinical smell of disinfectant. Fox checked in at the front counter and noted the greyish head beneath the counter.
"Ahem."
The attendant's long ears swivelled to meet Fox's voice. "Fox McCloud," the rabbit said. "I do hope I haven't kept you waiting.
Fox graced her presence with a polite smile. That's all right, I just got here. May I ask if Bill Grey is around?"
"A recent spate of ship disappearances are keeping the general tied up. He sends his apologies and left me in his stead to attend to your needs, As requested, we've gathered the materials you wanted."
Fox's smile grew softer around the edges, less brittle, more appreciative. "Thank you."
"My name is Dawn. This way please," Dawn slid off from her stool and half-turned.
The pair ascended the stairs and walked through the stacks before they arrived at a private reading room. Motes of dust greeted them as they entered, spinning through shafts of light. In one corner stood a pile of books and in another corner were stacks of tapped up boxes neatly labelled and organised. The room's sole terminal was prominently lit, displaying clippings.
"Anything else?"
"I...it's just my mother you know. I never really bothered to ask her about her work. So, really this is all I've got."
Dawn gave a polite nod, then turned to leave. "I should let you be, then. I'm sure you know your way around, but please let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
Fox watched her go. Alone, he slid a paw over to the first book within reach and began reading. An hour later, the pungent scent of coffee wafted into Fox's nose. He set aside the article he had been nose deep into and looked up to see the attendant from before, holding up a tray of refreshments.
"Thanks, " Fox said.
"Sorry if I'm bothering you but have you found what you're looking for?"
"Somewhat?" Fox paused then looked up from his reading material and stared squarely at the attendant. "You knew who I was out there. Without an introduction."
"The one who single-handedly stopped Andross, twice? The son of James McCloud? Your reputation preceded you." Dawn paused. "That, and Bill gave me your description as well."
Fox digested this, then presented an article on the datapad to the attendant. Dawn perused the article them stared back confused. "Funny what we learn about others without actually knowing them," Fox said. "My mother taught astrobiology here and was a part of the Xenoist Society."
The article was dated but proudly displayed Vixy McCloud seated alongside a broad cross-section of Cornerian society. Amongst them, stood a pig, a magnificent eagle and a horn from some unidentified creature jutting in from the edge of the frame. Ruining the otherwise pristine picture however was an offensive blotch blocking out one of the attendees.
"That blotted out bit. That is. Was that was...Andross?"
Yeah, him. He had a thing for my mother then. A one-sided thing.."
"I'm sorry."
'You just said that."
"I meant sorry for your loss," Dawn pointed at the article. "What were they discussing?"
"Prejudices mostly, " Fox said. "Not their own of course. The Xenoist society was founded on the belief that Cornelia owed a duty to spread civilisation to the stars and where we go wrong on that."
"Is this what you were looking for, then?"
Fox glanced over for a moment before nodding. "Kinda."
"I gather you're looking for something else, " Dawn paused then continued. "If I'm prying, tell me off."
"Oh, you're most certainly prying," Fox said, wearing a faint smile. "But just the same. It's nice to have somebody to talk about this."
Fox gave Dawn a long appraising look. Dawn lowered his eyes before looking away. "Look at this, " Fox said as he motioned to a bunch of taped up boxes resting in the corner. "All of this, none of it is really truly her. But, it's more than I ever had of her really."
"What do you mean?"
"I kinda just took her for granted. Even when my dad was around she was always just mum to me. Never really bothered to sit down and learned who either of them was when they weren't busy looking after me."
"Sounds like something you could remedy, at least in part? If I remember correctly they were two Star Fox teams. The ones that served under your father. Maybe they could add something."
Fox shook his head. "It's just... a very personal matter.I've learned long ago not to burden my team with my problems, especially personal ones that I can work out on my own."
Dawn nodded, then rose. " I've kept you from your reading long enough, but I'll be just downstairs if you want somebody to talk to about all this."
"Thanks," Fox said, losing himself in the books.
The first light of the moon found Fox standing outside of a residence he hadn't been it since it was a kit. The occasional buzz of shuttles hurtling forth from the nearby spaceport failed to dampen the mood. This was home. Fox paused. No, it hasn't truly been his for a long time.
Faded memories guided Fox to the emergency key hidden under the mat. He pulled the key from its old hiding place beneath a flower pot and opened the door. "Hey mom, I'm home..." Fox's voice echoed up empty bannisters and down empty hallways scattering week-old dust. Only silence greeted him. He shut the door and winced as it slammed shut.
The lights flicked on as he walked down the entryway, slowly, trying to reconcile the home he had known from so long ago with the one he stood in now. There were pictures lining the long corridor some old and some new. Here and there, Fox recognised some. Here an old family friend, there a long-time neighbour. Both his parents featured prominently. In one photo, James and Vixy had stood dressed in formal attire. In another, the pair of foxes were sitting with other squadron mates from the original Star Fox team: Pigma and Peppy.
In most, they had been photographed with representatives of different off-world groups. Then came a noticeable time gap before a vixen around his own age appearing regularly in place of James McCloud.
What was her name? Willow?
Vixy and Willow stood together for many formal events. But in one there was no formal attire, no sign that the occasion had been anything other than a pleasant dinner. The pair had been caught mid-laugh. Fox wondered what the joke was.
Fox set his bags down in the living room and considered reading, but after spending the entire day reading he was in no mood to continue. From out in the hallway, a grandfather clock chimed and Fox promptly decided to call it a night. The hallway leading to his old bedroom was short, but as Fox passed his parents' bedroom and caught the faint scent of Vixy's floral perfume, waves of memories crashed over Fox the softness of his mother's fur as she drew Fox into a hug, the bell-tone sound of his mother's laughter.
Fox squeezed his eyes shut as the first sob came, silent and wracking. He leaned against the wall and gradually his breath came in ragged gasps and thin whines as he finally let go and sunk to the floor
In the morning, Fox found himself on the other side of town. Before him, stood an unfamiliar door. He raised his hand to the archaic door knocker but stopped. After a moment's hesitation, he rapped on the door. The door opened, revealing a puzzled if friendly vixen.
"Hello?"
"Are you... Willow by any chance?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Fox McCloud. Vixy McCloud was my mother. I understand that you're one of my mother's students and was wondering if we might talk for a bit."
Willow was already beckoning Fox inside before he had finished speaking."Oh, I'm so... Please, please, here."
Willow closed the door behind them.
"Well," she said, looking Fox up and down. A moment later, she turned abruptly and Fox into the foyer
"Coffee?"
"Please."
The stove came to life filling the silent void between the two as they avoided making casual eye contact. "I've heard a lot about you," Fox began. "Some of my mother's unfinished letters. To you, not me." Fox wore a tight smile. "Then I noticed you in a lot of her newer photos and started wondering who you were."
"Just one of her students."
"Given the number of photographs. More than that I'm guessing?"
"Just a student that shared her enthusiasm."
"The daughter she never had," Fox said.
"I... that's just. She talked about you a lot, you know," Willow said. Fox remained silent, but his ears swivelled to attention. Willow swallowed. "She wished she could've told you about the wonderful things she's seen. The people she met." A pause. "But she said she didn't want to bore you, though."
"I wouldn't have been bored," Fox said. "I wouldn't have..."
"She thought you might be." Willow set the cups on the table and coffee for two. "Sugar for you?" Willow asked. Fox shook his head. Eventually, he dipped his head: "Do you still want to talk?"
"No," Fox said rubbing his eyes and sipping his coffee, strong and black just as he liked. "But I should Willow slid two cubes into hers. Willow bowed her head for a moment, then spoke.
"I first met Vixy when she was giving a lecture about Venom."
"That death world?" Fox asked.
"Oh, it...yes. But that was back then when it was still a fringe world, not subject to the machinations of Andross's biological experiments. Vixy was talking about just how differently intelligent life could evolve. The lizardfolk there were different, yes. But by degrees rather than orders of magnitude. She was arguing that society's strength should be judged upon how we treated our weakest members," Willow paused as if to appraise Fox's reaction then continued.
"I'd signed up for her class as an easy elective. But Vixy's fascination with alien life was truly contagious. The kinds of assignments she gave us that encouraged us to put ourselves in their shoes and that was why when she offered extra circular projects-" Willow gave Fox an apprehensive look.
"And what?" Fox asked. "Why did you stop?"
"Sorry, I thought you would be bored."
"No," Fox said.
Willow studied Fox for a more before continuing. "And I was the only one in the class who was willing to take a six-month sabbatical to go through with it."
Fox returned the smile, in part. "You shared her enthusiasm, huh?"
"It started from classes, yes, but it went on from there," Willow gave Fox a puzzled frown. "I think Vixy would've mentioned this to you. Is this all news to you?"
"I didn't keep in touch as much as I should've."
Willow looked down at her coffee then snapped up, her aquamarine eyes locking onto Fox. "She loved you, you know."
"I know that. She was my mother."
"Yes, she was..." Willow fidgeted with her cup. "Never mind. Just, never mind."
"Tell me." Fox paused. "Please?"
Willow fidgeted with the coffee. He took a whiff of the rich aroma, stopped midway, then set it back down with a clatter.
"You weren't wrong." she looked up and met Fox's quizzical gaze. "Sometimes, when I'd get excited about something she'd smile and give me this...this look. She looked happy but then her eyes would get distant and sad. I got the impression it wasn't me she saw anymore." Willow blinked rapidly and looked away.
"I'm sorry," Fox said.
The pair got up then left strolling down the sidewalk and through row after row of identical looking cookie-cutter suburbia before steering their conversation through safer topics. However, as the pair settled down for lunch, they found themselves returning to the reason for their meeting.
"I need to give a speech. At the funeral I mean," Fox said, returning the bowls to the sink.
"It doesn't have to be anything long and it needn't be so formal.'
"That's exactly it, " Fox began. "All my mother's peer-reviewed works, books and even the stuff we've talked about have just been about my mother as a professor. Fox stopped, giving Willow a searching look.
"What?" she asked.
"There was a picture. You and her, having a meal together, laughing. What was that?"
"Just a little get together after Vixy returned from abroad."
Fox stared back and tried not to look hurt.
"What was she like? Personally, I mean, " Fox added.
Willow closed her mouth and appeared to give it some thought. "She was goofy I guess," Willow said after consideration. "She liked Dad jokes. You know, terrible puns. She laughed at her own jokes a lot and she talked a lot about you. I mean, everyone did. It's just..."
"What did she say about me?"
"I'm not sure you would want to know."
"I do, " Fox insisted.
Willow breathed. "She wanted to catch up on old times with you and she hoped by then that you had an exotic daughter-in-law under your arms." Fox nodded and looked pensive.
"That's pretty embarrassing," Fox concurred, scratching the back of his head. "But me asking that. It's not really a fair question, is it? I can't expect anyone to fill me in on an entire life that I neglected."
"You were busy saving the world."
"Don't." Fox looked up cleared his throat and smiled to soften her words. "Please. It's all right."
"Maybe one of the old Star Fox team could help?"
"Maybe." Fox cocked his head and gave Willow an appraising look. "I've got a few hours, want to see where I grew up?"
Willow shook her head. "Sorry, I've paperwork to do. Another less depressing time perhaps?"
"Sure, " Fox said, shrugging. "When I'm planetside again."Willow turned to leave but before he did Fox cleared his throat and spoke up. "Could you do me a favour?"
"Yeah?"
"Write your folks."
Willow smiled. "I will. Promise."
When twilight engulfed the streets of the capital, it found Fox in his parent's home, waiting. He had a book propped open before him, but he felt drained both physically and emotionally. and decided to take a break. He flopped to the side when he heard the door opening.
"Hey Peppy.."
Peppy Hare paused as he entered the living room. "Hey there, kiddo."
"I'm not exactly a kid anymore," Fox replied testily
Where Fox stood, Peppy could study the scuff marks on the wall. in the dim glow of the house lights, he could scarcely make out the permanent markings of Fox's height as he grew.
"No, I guess you aren't."
The two shared an awkward hug.
"How was the family?" Fox asked as she stepped back.
"About what you'd expect from a long distance relationship. Anyway," Peppy held a silver urn out from behind him and laid it to rest on the mantel a moment later. Fox stared at the urn for a long minute. Peppy pulled him close and gave him a hug.
"I know the feeling. I'm sorry, kiddo."
"Yeah." he glanced at him. "Me too."
They waited in silence for a time, but Fox's growling stomach spoiled the moment. "C'mon, let me fix something up for you." He led them to the kitchen and gestured for Fox to have a seat at the dining table. "You know, I wish times weren't what they are" He pulled out a box of oatmeal and set a kettle on to boil. "Hope you haven't been spending the entire time here, mopping."
"I met Willow. One of my mother's students today."
"How'd that go?" he asked.
"We talked a lot. She seems nice. But..."
"But what."
"She was supposed to be be me." Fox's voice held no accusation, but Peppy frowned all the same. Fox rubbed his eye with a forearm and the pair of them chewed their oatmeal in silence. Fox's spoon clanged in his bowl. He looked up. "I don't know what to say at the funeral, tomorrow,"
"You don't have to say much, just a few words."
"I want to do more than that." Fox glanced up, then back down into his now empty bowl. "When I was talking with Willow today, it made me realize how mom was always there for me. How she had this passion for her job that I never even knew about, and yet she never bothered me about it. But I was so busy living my own life that I just...
"It's all right. C'mere." The pair embraced. "Just say what. Just say what comes naturally to the heart."
"Thanks, Peppy."
"Go on now, get some sleep. I know we're not looking forward to tomorrow."
"Yeah," Fox said with a half-hearted smile.
Footsteps fell softly on the carpet where Fox had lain the previous night. He smelled his mother's still lingering scent again. A stab of pain wrenched its way into his heart before passing, but he felt only a twinge of door to his old bedroom opened and though Fox's legs dangled out and over the frame of the too-small bed he fell into a fitful sleep.
On the morning of the funeral, Fox and Peppy Hare gathered for a solemn progression. The sky overhead was overcast skies and a chill breeze wafted through the gates of the cemetery. In all, there were a dozen speakers. The program called on Fox second to last just ahead of Peppy who would cover the closing eulogy.
One by one, friends and distant family members filed in. what she would say and tried not to fidget.
The service passed Fox by as he waited, locked into a sort of fugue state. In spite of his best attempts to stay attentive, to absorb the kind words and condolences of Vixy's friends and colleagues. All spoke fondly of the person she was, and Fox for a moment felt their care for the person she was to them.
Willow gave something much more personal: a brief tale of the vixen she had come to love as much as her own mother. Fox
nodded as Willow looked her way, and they shared a momentary smile.
When Willow stepped down, Fox rose. He stepped up and onto the podium. His thoughts turned inward and he spared only the briefest of moments at the silver urn holding Vixy's physical remains. Then, he took the podium and spoke.
"Life comes with choices, branching paths. In the course of our journey, we accumulate regrets on the roads not travelled by words left unsaid, memories never made, loved ones we neglected. My name is Fox McCloud, and I regret all those things. I regret that I never really knew my mother. I regret that only very recently did I try to learn who she was, what she did. In the course of doing so, I learn of the lives she's touched, the sorrows she's known," Fox swallowed then continued.
"In truth, all I'm left with are fragments of memories, pieces of times long gone, bits of a larger than life figure that I never truly knew. And however much I try to condense it down into so many words I'm still no closer to knowing her than when I started."
"Vixy McCloud was my mother. She led a rich and full life that I feel privileged to have known in passing through my childhood and through the words of others. From them, I learned to cherish what I have, whom I have, while I have them." Fox stopped, overcome with emotion then looked upon Peppy who gave him a tremulous smile.
"Our lives are lessened by Vixy's passing, but as we keep her memory alive in our hearts. I can only hope that as you think on her and all she did, who she was, and what she accomplished. I hope that you too will remember to appreciate those close to you and that you let them know that they too are loved."
Fox felt drained. So intent was he on what he had to say that he'd missed the majority of Peppy's closing speech. Nonetheless, he'd come away from it with a warm embrace, and for that, he smiled.
The guests shuffled by and expressed their condolences to him, one by one. Fox nodded and gave polite thanks, but so inwardly focused was he that he forgot their faces a moment after they bade their goodbyes and left. Fox approached the urn, and Peppy stood alongside him. A peaceful silence followed thereafter, interrupted only by the wind and the leaves rustling alongside the otherwise empty mausoleum of James McCloud.
"Hey, Peppy?" Peppy turned around, "Can we..." Fox faltered. "Will you tell me about mom? About Dad?"
Peppy gave Fox a sad, soft smile. "Yeah kiddo," he said. "I'd like that.