Chapter 8: Why are Foxes red?

Kody Samson Grey held onto his mother's paw tightly as the two walked down the street. The kit was four years old now and growing like a weed. He was only a few months younger than his cousin, Gideon, but something about Chris' genes made him bigger than his cousin. He wasn't chubbier, he was just taller by nearly half a foot.

Oddly enough, because of his size, he was usually teased by the other children, which caused the kit to cling to his mother's side like a barnacle to a whale or a shipping vessel. It was a bit cute, though, it also really didn't help his mother a great deal. The fox found it a bit odd that her son, as well as her nephew, would get teased about his size, especially since the majority of the town was made up of bunnies, all of whom would never be the same height as him in their entire lifetimes. Children were just strange, if not mean at times.

The twenty two year old vixen was still living with her parents, as was her brother and his family. The skull of foxes all worked together to keep the family farm going. The only problem was that few of the other families around were interested in helping foxes. They were friendly with one another. They went to school and church together, but other than that, the mingling of the species was forced. Prey stuck with Prey and Preds stuck with Preds.

As the mother-son pair walked down the street, the two passed by the War Veteran's Post. Slowly, Jo stopped to look down at her kit. He was looking up at her with confusion in his eyes. "Mama? Why'd we stop," he asked curiously as his mother slowly bent down to pick him up. The vixen couldn't help but notice how much heavier her son was getting as her arm slid under his rump.

"Y'll see in a minnit, sugar fox," she cooed softly as she slowly opened the door.

A rush of cigarette smoke washed out to greet them. The room was full of old mammals, their faces wrinkled as they went from one cigarette to the next, not even paying anyone any mind. Jo snorted as she slowly sauntered over to a bunch of photos on the wall. "I wanted to show you your great grandsires," Jo said as she pointed to a clutch of photographs. There were four tods lined up in a row, all of them smiling for their War Department photo. Each one of them was dressed in a military uniform. Three of them were in what looked like business suits but with stronger lines with crossed muskets on the collars, and one was dressed like the boy on the Cracker Jack's box in a sailor's uniform.

"Who's that, mama," her tod asked as his eyes danced over the photos. The vixen smiled, "Those are your great grandsires, sweetheart. Well, only one of them is, the rest were his brothers."

She pointed at one of them before her finger started to move from left to right, "That would be your great great-uncle Gideon, that's your great great-uncle Joshua, that's your great great-uncle Earle, and that's your great grandsire David."

Kody's eyes followed his mother's finger, listening intently to what she said. "Mama?"

"Yes, sugar fox?"

"How come I ain't never seen them before? Is they hidin'?"

Jo gently shook her head, "No, baby. Gideon, Joshua, and Earle never came home from the war."

"Mama? What's war?"

The vixen sighed, "It's when people get into a big ol' fight with one'nother over summin'. There was one between us and something they calls apes. Gideon, Joshua, and Earle all joined the Army t'gether, but yer grandsire wuddn't old'nough. He waited a year 'n'then joined th'Navy."

"What happened, mama?"

She stared at the plaques under the photos. All three of Jo's great uncles died in the same year. On the same day. In the same operation. David had been there too, but he'd been out at sea helping shell the enemy positions. She wasn't sure what to tell her son, but someone spoke up.

"Theys fought like theys possessed by th'devil," an old brown rabbit said, a pair of thick glasses on his face. "Ah wuz there! Wez got pinned by them hairless monkies, 'n them three tods went loco. Theys crawl'd round back'uh dem 'n blew dat mer-sheen g'n nest t'kingd'm cum! Theys never cum back dough."

The little kit still looked confused so he did what any young child did. He asked, "Why?"

"Dem monkies dun shots'm's why."

Kody's head tilted as his mother held him tight. He didn't really understand what the old hare was telling him, but the rabbit kept going, "But dey tooks all dem apes widdem dough. Dem tree all gots med'ls fer dat. Jist'shame dey didn' gets pinned on dough."

Jo nodded softly. She knew the old rabbit, or at least knew of him. That was Mary-Ann and Bonnie's grandbuck, Samuel Springer. Slowly, her eyes moved to the one sitting next to him. The silvery pelted rabbit was scowling a little as he eyed the cherry red tod in the vixen's arms. She knew him too. That was Hank Hopps.

Jo never liked Hank, nor did she particularly care for Hank's son, Otto. Those two were from a different era entirely, though, the vixen wasn't exactly sure which exact one it was, but certainly one from the Mid-Roman Empire. She'd heard about how the two had been vehemently against de-segregation of the local school back in the 1960s. Prior to that, Preds and Prey went to their own separate but equal centers of learning.

Hank adjusted his glasses. "Dats wun red tod ya gots der, Jo-sef-een," he said as he leaned in to get a closer look while he sat at his table. The vixen's tail flicked around as her son held onto his mother's neck. "Y'ain't been sleepin' wit da devil has ya?"

Jo scowled. Samuel scowled. Kody looked confused.

"Wut d'hell's wrong witcha, Hank," Samuel said as he turned to look at the old rabbit, "Dat's Gideon, Josh, n' Earle's grankit!"

"Foxes is red cuz dey dun ben made bah d'devil! N' dat wun looks like he's d'devil's own boy!"

"Yew iz a damn fool! Gideon, Josh, n' Earle shudda let dem monkies kill yew ya 'ngratef'l basserd!"

The two buck rabbits looked at each other, completely forgetting about Jo and Kody as the two old hares began to argue. The vixen decided it was better for her to not get involved, but to see her and her son out the door.

The vixen snorted as she held onto her little boy. The kit let out a sniffling, "Mama."

"Yes, sugar fox?"

Kody was on the verge of crying, "Was my daddy th'devil?"

Slowly, Jo put her son down onto the pavement and knelt before him. One finger moved to gently wipe away a small tear that was forming. "Yer daddy was a lot a things, shoog, but he weren't the devil."

"But that bunny said," the kit started to say, but his mother interrupted him, "That bunny don't know what he's talking about. He's just old and confused is all."

Her son sniffled, "Is he right? Is we red cause foxes were made by the devil, mama?"

Jo wrapped her arms around her son and pulled him in tight. "No, baby. We're aren't red because we were made by the devil. We're red because we're sweet like apples."

"Really?"

Jo smiled warmly. It was a lie. Foxes had their own stories about why they were red, most of which revolved around fire, but that wasn't going to help and only fueled those old beliefs that Hank and Otto shared. "Yes, sugar fox. Really," she said as she kissed his cheek.