IX.
Three days into his hunger strike, a lingering thought surfaced to the consciousness of the cat. Flamethrowers need fuel. Where it came from he wasn't sure. Perhaps a bad tagline from a film or a culmination of many, but the thought echoed in his head every time he tried to close his eyes and sleep the hunger away. Even with his eyes opened he could feel the words repeating again and again, drilling a hole in his mind until he finally relented and took a bite of the stale kibble at the end of his cage. The sound of his crunching brought the warden over to his cage, a triumphant smirk on the man's face.
"Yeah, I knew you couldn't hold out," he smiled through his buck teeth poking the cage with his pen. "Ya won me a bet with Steve, so maybe I'll even change yer water for ya tonight!"
At the mention of "Steve", Furrball growled. He'd estimated that he'd been in the cage for five days now because of the number of times he'd seen the two employees wearing different clothes. Steve had boasted a couple of days ago lying in wait outside the club with the tranquilizer gun, sniping him from a tree. From the ferocious barks of the few dogs whose spirit hadn't been broken yet, Furrball surmised this was a favorite tactic of his for filling cages. Sometimes he wished he could speak dog, because it seemed as if they were trying to talk to him every so often.
Stretching a bit, Furrball reminded himself that his only chance for escape was when they opened the cage to take him to the incinerator and he didn't want to have sore muscles on that day. Taking another bite, the feline grimaced at the taste, starting to spit the food out before the words came back to his head, like a brain splinter. He ate until the words subsided.
Perhaps three more days passed without incident, the cat now more in danger of being bored to death before his execution date. Montana Max hadn't visited since that first time and Steve had since taken a vacation. It had to be nearing nightfall because Furrball's energy level was naturally on the rise. Before he could ignore instinct and meditate his friskiness into a lucid dream, the lights went out in the entire complex.
"What the shuck?" The warden nearly fell out of his chair. Pouncing to the cage door, Furrball started to sweat. He inhaled. It was faint amid the other odors lingering, but there was a vaguely familiar scent in the air. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he heard the warden hit the floor with a loud thud. Looking around as far as the cage would allow him to, he heard a sniffing sound coming closer to his cage as dogs barked. After the longest minute of his nine lives, Furrball found himself muzzle to muzzle with the intruder. A flood of emotions entered his brain as the red-nosed intruder picked the locks on his cage. Even as the door swung open and the coyote beckoned him to follow, Furrball hesitated leaving for a moment. Coming to his senses, the feline assisted the canis latrans in the classic escape device, freeing all the dogs from the pound.
After leading, then leaving the stampede to freedom into the night sky, Furrball and his emancipator sprinted towards the coyote's transportation… a slick, '73 GTO. Furrball half-expected to find a red De Ville with a certain purple skunk as the wheelman. As they made it onto the highway, the two rode in silence. Obviously. Furrball looked over at Calamity. He couldn't remember the last time they'd seen each other, but it felt like a lifetime. The years had been good to him, it seemed. Despite the obvious need to wear all-black tonight, Furrball guessed Calamity was wearing clothes on a regular basis now. Still with those red tennis shoes, though.
Calamity glanced at Furrball, who turned away. Smirking, he took out a PDA and jotted something down before showing it to the cat. "Hungry?" was all it said. Furrball nodded, causing the coyote to make a sharp turn into the nearest exit. Spinning into the parking lot of a Waffle House, the two took a booth near the door. Waitress didn't even raise an eyebrow at the unique nature of her newest customers. She looked like she'd seen everything anyway and smiled as she brought their drinks.
The two sat quietly opposite one another. Furrball borrowed a pad and pencil from the counter. Before writing anything, he stuck out his paw. Calamity looked at it strangely and waited a few moments before shaking hands with his old classmate.
"Don't mention it...Ever :)" Calamity had finally gotten rid of the wooden signs. The PDA did seem more suited to his personality. Furrball started to jot down something, when Calamity snatched the paper and ripped it up. The cat looked at the coyote, shocked as he venomously scrawled on his PDA. Thrusting the device under Furrball's nose, Calamity looked away, livid.
"You're no mute, faker." Furrball read the words a few times as disappointment embraced him. The waitress put their plates on the table, trying not to notice the torn paper. As soon as she was out of sight, the cat opened his mouth.
"G-guess I'm n-n-not."
Calamity adjusted his seat, staring at the cat. It was a raspy, nearly inaudible tone that should have belonged to a 100-year-old smoker with throat cancer. He'd expected…well, a cross between Sylvester the Cat and Sylvester Stallone.
"I h-h-had to make a ch-choice as a k-kid. Sp-sp-speaking Catonese w-w-well m-m-makes it hard to sp-sp-speak human."
At this, the two ate in silence, Furrball not shy about his appetite. When he finished, he looked around the diner for a bit.
"Th-thank you," he finally managed as Calamity finished off the rest of his waffles. The coyote smiled, shaking his head. He paid the check in cash and motioned for Furrball to follow him back to the car.
Once inside, Calamity looked a bit flustered as his wrote. Sheepishly, he showed Furrball.
"My place until this dies down?" The feline laughed and relaxed in his seat before nodding. Where else did he have to go?
X.
About a half an hour later, the two pulled up into a driveway. Calamity nudged Furrball who had since dozed off. The cat slowly opened his eyes to find a rather small, but cozy looking shack with another car parked on the lawn. Although it did strike him as somewhat familiar, Furrball was more interested in getting in out of the cold. In times when he was alone, his mind was prepared for roughing it in the elements, but as a guest, he felt vulnerable and needy.
Before they ascended the steps, the front door flew open and a figure threw herself around Calamity as he was fumbling for his key.
"Oh! Mon chéri, but I missed you my little coyote!" Calamity stumbled backwards getting his paws up to stop his assailant from smothering him. A split second later, the skunk's demeanor changed along with her accent. "Why didn't you text me or nothin', huh?" she scolded, punching her boyfriend on the arm for emphasis. Furrball didn't move the second he saw Fifi. His mind was racing as she turned to look at him.
"It's nice to see you again, monsieur Furrball," the faux French accent again. "Long time, no see, yes?"
The feline blinked to find Calamity and Fifi watching him. Figuring that he must have been staring into space, he smiled sheepishly and followed the two inside.
"Something to drink, ami?"
Furrball accepted the iced tea and tried to relax as he looked around the room. Wall to wall electronics, gizmos and spare parts adorned the room. Not in a cluttered, mad scientist sort of way. Rather, they were incorporated with the décor and were functional as well. An overturned pinball machine served as the coffee table and Furrball couldn't help but wonder if Fifi had rearranged things in such a way.
Calamity entered with a small laptop, which he connected to a set of speakers, sitting across the room from Furrball on his loveseat. Fifi joined him as he booted it up. Suddenly, a robotic voice emitted from the notebook.
"Sorry I didn't get there sooner," the electronic voice announced.
Furrball let out a laugh. "Wh-wh-what are you, Calamity H-h-hawkings?"
"Something like that," Calamity and Fifi smiled at each other. "It must have been hell being locked up for so long."
Furrball scratched his head, looking down. "I d-d-don't remember m-much. Y-ya gone one time, y-y ya gone a h-h-hundred times."
Fifi frowned, nodding sympathetically.
"H-h-h-how'd you f-f-…"
"Find out about you?" Fifi offered. The cat nodded. Calamity held up the newspaper.
"Fifi called Ms. Duff up after we saw this," Calamity explained. "Then she told us about you."
"Cali's a post grad student at Wright State. I'm just visiting from Fresno. Well, goin' on six months now. Work's slow everywhere these days, ya know?" Furrball nodded, smirking.
"So anyway, we knew Ms. Duff was around, but when we found out about her bar, we figured we'd see if we could help out at all."
"She was more concerned about you, though," the coyote's computer chimed in. "That Montana Max is gawddamned lunatic. Colon, open parenthesis."
Furrball took a sip of his drink.
"It's not a whole lot, but why don't you stay here in the living room tonight? We can talk about things in the morning."
"Oui, you're safe here, Furrball."
Furrball gave the couple a sad smile as a plan started to formulate in the back of his mind.
"Go ahead. Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa. Capiche?"
I miss the signs, Calamity. The cat's original language must have sounded like nothing to the others.
"Does that mean yes?"
Furrball looked down. "Y-y-yeah," he lied, causing the others to smile. As Fifi went to the bedroom, Calamity turned to follow. Glancing back at Furrball, he sighed. Everyone needs help once in a while. It's nothing to be ashamed of… he considered writing this, but his gaze met Furrball's piercing look, as the cat was staring into space, causing him to forget what he was initially thinking.
XI.
The sun warmed his face as Furrball purred stretching as far as he could. Yawning wide, the cat found himself at the feet of a purple skunk. Nearly forgetting where he was, Furrball rolled backward, landing on his feet.
"New trick, I see." Fifi smiled, taking a laundry basket across the room. "Hope I didn't wake you."
Furrball shook his head and started folding up his blanket. Fifi watched him for a minute, inadvertently causing him to fold the blanket almost into the size of a handkerchief. The Skunk laughed, pushing her hair out of her face. Furrball turned away, timidly.
"Cali had to leave early this morning. Lab work, as usual," she sighed sadly, trying not to be so obvious. The cat offered to take the laundry basket, which Fifi gladly gave him.
"So, how about you take a shower, I'll cook us some breakfast and then we can go for a drive somewhere. Bien?" Furrball grinned at the skunk. Her French and her English were in constant competition with one another. Her accent would fade in and out as would her diction change. Maybe it was intentional, but the feline didn't think so. She smiled back and showed him to the bathroom.
It'd been years since Furrball stepped foot in Fifi's car and their last experience wasn't a memory he'd like to remember. He noted that Fifi had been quiet since breakfast and gave her a puzzled glance.
"So Cali says not to go into Xenia, but I saw that look in your eyes last night. There's no way we could keep you out. Besides, somebody's gotta teach Max a lesson and if Cali doesn't know, he can't get involved so he can't get in trouble, no?"
Furrball looked over at Fifi as she sped up. He wanted to tell her not to get involved, but she shot him a look before he could start.
"Don't you tell me it's none of my business. Don't you be like everybody else. You're different, Furrball. You don't have to be…be…" Fifi's voice trailed off as she merged onto the highway. They drove a few miles in silence.
"Wh-what about Ca-cal-cala-"
"He doesn't need anyone, don't you see? He's obsessed with his science. Just like his father and his Uncle Ralph. To him, I'm probably just an accessory…" Fifi covered her mouth a bit too late to take back what she said. Furrball looked around trying to fill the awkward silence with something. The radio was broken. Damn.
"I s-s-saw Dizzy in M-may."
Fifi glanced at her passenger. Relented.
"Yeah? I heard he left the country." Furrball nodded.
"N-new Z-z-zealand." More silence.
"You know, you've missed all the get togethers at the Looniversity," The skunk began, keeping her eyes on the road. "Even Plucky was asking about you last time."
Furrball didn't say anything, sinking into his seat. Fifi took a detour to pass construction ahead.
"Nobody hates, you, Furrball," Fifi declared suddenly, as if she just remembered to say it. "They never did. You just didn't give anyone a chance to be your friend. Always leaving at the drop of a hat before you could settle down."
The feline's ears sunk and he said nothing at first.
"It f-f-feels like a sp-splinter's in my m-m-mind. Like a t-time bomb, m-m-maybe?"
"Go on," Fifi encouraged.
"I j-j-just can't stay in one p-p-place long, that's all. Feels like I'm j-j-just wasting time."
"What do you want to do, then?"
"D-d-don't you th-think I'd be d-d-doin' it if I kn-n-new?"
Fifi concentrated on driving for a while, while Furrball closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.
. . . . .
"We're here," Fifi announced, causing the feline to flinch. Apparently he wasn't pretending to sleep after all. "So what're you going to do here?"
Furrball smiled softly, leaning close to his old classmate. Taking her paw in his, he kissed it, then gently pulled her close, leaning to her ear. "Don't f-follow m-me." Authoritative, almost venomous words paralyzed the skunk as the blue cat exited the vehicle. When she recovered, Fifi was stricken to find the feline was completely out of sight.
-End Part 3 of 4-