-Chapter 4-

With the help of their son's linguistic expertise from his experience in the procyon community (two members of his street family had been raccoons in New Zealand), Fifi and Furrball learned what little tidbits they could about the raccoon. He went by the name "Chafe", although names were rarely used directly from one raccoon to another. He stated that he refused to live with the family, but decided to stay with them a week until his body was healthy enough to have the surgery to replace his tailbone. Chafe wouldn't give any other information and the adults wouldn't press. Furrball, more than most, knew the importance of mystique, necessary for survival. As the cat entered the bedroom, he couldn't shake the feeling that something seemed off about Chafe.

"They're huddled up on opposite sides of the room, like a couple of resting tumbleweeds." Furrball stretched slowly, yawning as he closed the door.

"You think," Fifi mused putting her tablet down, "That might've been your name if you'd been born in Reno?"

Furrball scratched his head, confused.

"Tumbleweed. You know, Nevada. Desert…" the skunk explained. "Would've matched your personality before us."

"Huh."

"Can I ask why Sparkz can understand him and you can't?"

"Hmm?" The cat flopped on the bed, nearly knocking the device to the floor. Fifi caught it in the nick of time, swatting her husband with her tail for good measure. With a mischievous glint in his feline eyes, Furrball squeezed the fluffy tail, trying to reel her in resulting in an impromptu game of tug of war that ended with the skunk lying atop the cat, who, quite by accident, cushioned her fall.

"Well?" Fifi asked with a smile.

"I used to fight to live and live to fight, ya know," the cat panted, scrambling for purchase, gripping nothing but the throw rug. "Just know that I let you win."

"Is that a fact?" A pseudo-sadistic smirk spread across the skunk's face as she leered down at him. The smile was contagious.

Furrball knew he wouldn't get an answer until he spilled the beans and was beginning to feel the circulation cut off in his lower torso.

"It's probably different in New Zealand," he began as she shifted her position, not quite getting off, but making things a bit more comfortable for the cat. "Where I grew up, the raccoons would fight off anyone in their territory. They were much more organized and pretty much kept to themselves."

Satisfied, Fifi used her husband as a step stool to get back into bed, pulling him up when she had gotten comfortable.

"You ever fight one before?"

Furrball stretched out his forearm, motioning to a patch where no fur grew. The skin was slightly discolored in a jagged formation. Fifi ran her finger along the scar, finding that it went far beyond the bald patch. As she reached his shoulder, Furrball caught her paw and kissed it before pulling it away.

"I wouldn't have called it 'fighting'."

Fifi tried not to imagine how it must have been for the cat, growing up. Sometimes it was hard to believe he had gone through so much in such a vulnerable period.

"You don't seem to harbor any grudges…"

"It was a long time ago," Furrball answered quickly. "Besides, not every raccoon I met tried to kill me."

The skunk elected not to inquire the nature of the goofy smile her husband produced and lost as soon as he realized he had it.

"Hey, how come you never talk about Paris?"

"? Where did…"

"You don't have to if you don't want. I just… How'd I get so lucky?"

"What do you mean?"

I hear it's a great city. But you ended up over here anyway. If you hadn't… we wouldn't…"

"Yeah."

"You were 9 when you transferred to the Looniversity, right? Did you come straight from Paris?"

"Papa got transferred for his job. I can remember hating him so much for that. I never told him of course. Mom did, though. That's when the whole thing started."

"You're shaking."

"It's drafty in here. Don't you think?"

-Diez-

The pills clearly weren't working for either one of them. Sparkz tried to will away the pulsing nerves on his paw, failing miserably. He shuddered to think how his new roommate must have felt.

"Chari cou cansaas churiko?"

Sparkz looked up at the raccoon, suspicions confirmed.

Force of habit. I don't like beds.

The two had come to a diplomatic compromise. While they could clearly understand one another, having spent time with the opposite species for whatever reasons in their past, neither had the vocal cords to articulate in their respective target languages, Catonese or Raconian. Chafe had been on his own for the past year after refusing to 'regulate on' a feline that had strayed into his territory, a gesture more out of laziness than compassion.

"Chimako ciicoiu ce calina cuhh?"

I mean, yeah. If I get the chance. I'm a cat. It's in my blood, I guess.

"Cuhh? Claniiisou cuhh?"

If we were designed to live off grass and carrots, believe me, I would give up the hunt in a heartbeat.

Sparkz suspected there was a level of contempt in his roommate. Apparently he'd given up on omnivorous tendencies in favor of the herb sense of the word. The remainder of the night was spent in somewhat awkward silence.

-Once-

It'd been years since he'd set foot on Bauchet Street, though the ominous feeling remained, seeping up through the cracks in the concrete, absorbed by the cat as he passed Wai Sang Meat, stopping a few meters back. The cat glanced at his watch. 4:42 AM. Scanning the opposite side of the street, Furrball noticed a few others loitering, not really paying him any mind. He could see some people in cars, the exhaust from the tailpipes smoking up, reminding him of his younger days. He wondered how many gathered had similar, or worse, yet, more aggressive intentions than him. Shrugging off the thought, he focused straight ahead, waiting for his mark to show. He was actually surprised that Fifi didn't try to stop him when the officer called with the tip. She wanted it, the same as he did. Wanted to make sure it was over.

Before long, a short, stout man with a large mustache left the jail, headed for the taxi alley. The cat took off in gradual pursuit. A few meters later, Furrball could feel no more eyes in their direction and quickened his step significantly. Just as the man started to flag a taxi, he made his move, letting his presence be known to the perpetrator.

"Better just be a rumor."

Sam spun around, feeling naked without his piece.

"The hell are you doin' here, sneaking around like a cat in the night?"

Furrball smirked at the simile, taking a step towards the man. Unlike with typical humans, Furrball actually almost towered over this one.

"You pressing charges? Bad idea." The cat sucked his teeth, glaring down at the man.

"I can do whatever I want! Your boy shouldn't a thrown nothing at a person."

"My advice? Let it go. Or a couple of pebbles will be the least of your worries."
"That a fact? What you gonna do, kitty? Claw my eyes out?"

"I could…" Furrball took a step towards Sam causing the man to flinch, bumping into something he hadn't expected.

"Then I'd get whatever'sssss left, Sssssam."

Sam took one look at the second body and conceded defeat, his posture limping like a wet noodle in the presence of the seasoned vet.

"Alright. It's done with," he managed.

The black cat cracked his knuckles. "Better be."

The felines watched a moment as the man fled off to the next street hailing cab after cab until he finally was able to escape the scene. Furrball felt a pat on his shoulder from his elder.

"Not bad," he said, one of his rare praises. "Next time I won't even have to make an entrance."

Furrball grinned, removing Sylvester's paw. "You're notorious by rep alone. But me?"

Sylvester smirked, swiping the air in front of his old student, not even eliciting a flinch. "Careful. If Fifi knew your whole story, she'd have stayed away for good."

"Good thing she doesn't know, then," the blue cat swiped back at Sylvester, stopping a micrometer from his nose. "Can I ask a favor, then?"

"Consider it done."

"What? No, not the Johnny thing. Just watch him in case he changes his mind and let me know. I'd rather handle this one myself if it came down to it."

"You're no fun, kid."

"And you're kind of a sadist, Sly."

Former master and apprentice smiled at one another for a moment.

"Sssticks and sssstones, m'boy. Sssticks and ssstones."

-Doce-

"Don't want it?" the coyote's voice cracked as the vein in his forehead nearly exploded. "For heaven's sake, why not, my boy?"

Sparkz glanced around. The lab. He could count at least 12 pairs of eyes on him. Rather than explain himself, the kitten tried to shift the focus to another. "He needs a tail, sir," he said in a small voice nodding at Chafe.

"That's not an answer!" Wile was beyond frustrated, having wanted nothing more than to have a live test subject for his bionic paw, moreso than wanting to improve the quality of life in the kitten.

Sparkz's eyes narrowed slightly as his apprehension was overcome by anger.

Humans took it. I can't trust them as long as it's gone. Human technology gives it back, I forget my pain, maybe I trust them again. Maybe next time they take my head instead.

The felines in the room collectively diverted their eyes, knowingly. Wile looked to Furrball for an explanation, having no working knowledge of the kitten's native language.

"I'll talk with him. Maybe he'll have a change of heart later. But not today." The older cat said, skipping the explanation.

The aging coyote could read a severe, almost primal glint in his old student's eye that sobered him up quickly. With a heavy sigh and shrug of his shoulders, the canine knelt down to inspect his impromptu patient. "Hmm. Maybe he won't need it so much. The wound's nowhere near the base of his tail and it's only nicked the bone. I think it should heal itself in about a month or so." a sly grin spread across Wile's muzzle indicating that he had a method of speeding up the healing process, not wanting to waste any time to build suspense for dramatic pause.

"I just so happen to have a little cocktail mixed up this morning that should fix that nick in no time. Adele?"

Chafe tensed up as a woman handed Wile a serum in a syringe. Sparkz held his bandage out, almost touching the kit. Chafe brushed it away, putting on a brave face as he looked the coyote in the eyes.

"Well you're a brave one!" Wile smiled. "Go ahead and straighten out your tail as far as you can, okay?"

Chafe cocked his head, unclear.

"Chinako ceu ceu carina."

Wide-eyed, Chafe stared up at the coyote, never having known any canine to have knowledge of his language before. He did as instructed, barely making any progress straightening his tail.

"Alright, alright. Not bad, kid." Wile led the raccoon to the rear of the lab. "Let's make it all better, okay?"

-Trece-

The rare day off was always cause to celebrate, even though Fifi hadn't been in much of a mood to be celebrating considering all the madness of the past week. Nevertheless, she decided to honor her commitment to meeting her oldest friend. The two mutually agreed that a movie was out of the question, so they found themselves in the older part of town perusing an outdoor market.

"So I finally answered the phone when he called last night."

Fifi looked up at the duck who was eying the wares of an incense dealer.

"Fowlmouth?" she speculated.

"Uh huh." Shirley's tone was neutral this time.

"Uh oh. How'd that go over?"

Shirley handed some cash to the merchant and took her sticks, letting the suspense build slightly as a purse weaver caught her eye.

"I told him to stop calling, that he was wasting his time, I wasn't interested and we had nothing in common whatsoever and to move on." she said as they approached the table. It was a mother and daughter team. The mother was sitting on a rocking chair knitting purses as the daughter negotiated with the customers. The patterns in the purses seemed chaotic to the untrained eye, but the girls knew better.

"How'd he take it?" Fifi mused as they browsed.

"Well," the duck's voice began to trail off.

"Well what, Shirley? Don't hold out on your best friend."

Shirley picked out a turquoise and maize cloth wallet with a tribal design.

"$4.00," the daughter smiled at the two as Shirley paid.

"We're going out tomorrow night." Shirley confessed as soon as they were out of earshot of others.

"What? C'est dingue!" The skunk exclaimed, "Crazy!"

The duck simply laughed. "Well, while I was yelling at him, I didn't feel that icy feeling on the back of my neck like I was betraying Plucky anymore. And…"

"Go on."

"Well after I yelled at him, he started speaking a million miles a minute as usual and for the first time, I caught the gist of what he was saying and it was, you know…kind of sweet."

"Cursing and all?" Fifi playfully jabbed.

"Well, that's why I said "kinda". He can't help who he is, after all and I don't need to carry a torch for Plucky even if the feeling of freedom is temporary, you know?" Shirley looked up at a runaway leave gliding across the horizon.

Fifi sighed mysteriously. "Don't I ever."

"So enough about me, how's the family?" The duck switched topics hoping to steer the talk from an emotional rut.

"Furrball's driving me up the walls as usual."

"Really?"

"Only at night, actually. He's very …committed to it."

"Oh." Shirley blushed suddenly, getting the punch line. "Oh… Any progress?"

"It'll happen, I think. Any day now."

"And Sparkz?" she hadn't seen the kitten in feline since the wedding.

"Well I told you about Chafe, right?"

"No, what happened?"

"The minute we left Wile's lab, he took off and never came back."

"Oh no. How's the kid taking it?"

"Well, you know. He says he's fine, but the eyes don't lie. He just looks so lonely these days, even through that shallow smile he's been wearing more and more recently."

"Puttin' on a brave face, huh?" Shirley frowned.
Fifi brushed her hair out of her face as they made their way to a tent selling necklaces. "Yeah, but I think it's a bit more than that."

"How so?"

"I don't know, it's hard to describe. He just… as much as he seems to want to cling to his anger, there's a part of him that seems much more at ease with life if he doesn't think about stuff."

"Naturally."

"Yeah, but he doesn't want to admit it."

"He'll come around," Shirley encouraged. "Hey, check this one out!"

-Catorce-

Turning the key in the door, Fifi felt a gust of wind out of nowhere; giving her the sense that something was amiss. She could hear her husband laughing from the living room, which, while not particularly strange, typically didn't happen when she was absent (or so she thought).

Hey love! The cat purred, his typical Catonese greeting. The skunk didn't verbally reciprocate for once, but dropped her bags at the door. Sitting across the room was a most unexpected visitor.

"Dizzy?"

The lavender marsupial grinned wide, standing politely as Fifi entered the room. "Madam," he said, his distinct voice butchering his attempt at a French accent. After the mandatory European air kisses, Fifi joined her husband on the sofa and Dizzy sat back down on the love seat across from them.

"I came home from the gym and he was waiting on the porch!" Furrball explained. "What a surprise, you know?"

"Definitely!" Fifi exclaimed, trying to match her husband's enthusiasm and suppress her almost pessimistic curiosity.

"It been too long!" the Tasmanian devil began. "Three years, no vacation, you know?"

"And you'd spend some of it in L.A.? You'll spend half of the time in traffic!"

"I'm not spend my whole time here."

"Well, at least stay for dinner, won't you?" Fifi got up, walking towards the kitchen. "You two have a lot to catch up on."

Furrball started to get up, but Fifi tapped him with her tail assuringly.

"Take a walk?" Dizzy suggested as the skunk disappeared into the kitchen.

"Roof?" Furrball offered. Dizzy grinned, nodding.

…

As ecstatic as he'd been to see his old friend, in the back of his mind, the cat suspected that something was amiss. His suspicions were confirmed as he watched Dizzy's exuberant expression morph into a look bordering desperation. It was an appearance he, himself had turned into an art form, and not wasting any time, the cat attempted to pry.

"It's best if you just blurt it out."

"It bad, Furrby." Dizzy avoided eye contact.

Coupling this composure with his friend's tone, Furrball was slightly relieved, surmising that the problem wasn't Dizzy's.

"Tell me."

Dizzy looked at his feet, taking a deep breath. "It the papers."

For a moment, the two remained silent, pausing to allow a gust of wind to pass. When he didn't receive a response after the fact, Dizzy looked up at Furrball. The cat's eyes were merely slits, his facial muscles flexed, visibly pumping blood to the veins in his forehead. Whatever Furrball had guessed about the cryptic reply, Dizzy's expression articulated that he'd guessed correctly.

"Sparky's mom,"

"Sparkz." Furrball growled.

"His birth mother, she used private agency for adoption. No government. Less paperwork. Easy for immigrants." Dizzy stopped to sniff the air.

"He's not here. He's in the park looking for his friend," the cat said.

"They took out that agency this year. They traffic. They with the sweatshops. Anyone adopt through agency, the government say is void."

"What's that got to do with us? We adopted him through the government."

"Yes. But he adopted already before you through that agency."

"So?"

"So our bureaus don't talk each other. His adoptive mom. She put out a missing persons for him when he was a baby. She have his brothers and sister. Had, anyway."

"He's got family?"

"Families."

"Why 'had'?"

"They took them out home. Have to sort out paperwork to see who they can live with. See, they found birth mom, too. So there will custody hearing."

"Sparkz isn't involved. My papers are legit."

"According to government, no. The birth mother didn't relinquish custody."

"… You can't take him."

"Don't want to. But they coming. Tomorrow."

"Who?"

"Marshalls."

"What?"

"The countries talked. They have permission to take him until this over."

"Nothin' doing."

"Take him tonight. Run away."

"…"

"You don't have choice."

"Who is the birth mom?"

"You know her."

"Who?"

"You never guess."

"Who?"

-End: Part 4-

Ah, I'm sorry. It's so late. And I can't tell you who. Well, you probably can guess since I already kinda said it, but also, I think it'd be better to show that, rather than tell. So, please stay tuned for chapter five! I think it should be finished much faster than chapter four… I hope, anyway. Thanks for readin'!