Canis Lupus
Chapter Nine: Truth or Consequences?
--
Year 1, Spring 9th (Tuesday)
Go away, loser.
We don't want you playing with us, loser.
Go die or something, just leave us alone!
"Agh!"
I awoke from my nap, trying to shake the nightmare from my mind. The worst of the food-borne illness had passed, but I knew I'd be held for observation for another day, at least. The doctor had come in after my reminiscence in the bathroom to confirm it. I was stuck here for at least one more night.
Nurse Elli was about as thrilled about it as I was.
It was lunchtime before I remembered one important detail, though. Nurse Elli came in with my lunch, consisting of a hard-boiled egg, some saltine crackers, and a glass of orange juice. I was about to note my dislike of boiled eggs, when my memory finally kicked in properly.
"Damn it, the egg!"
Elli looked at the egg on its tray with an understandable degree of perplexity.
"I just remembered," I explained, "I've got an egg in the incubator at home that should've hatched this morning. I know it's stupid for me to go right now, but I need to check up on that."
I got my boots on, grabbed my hat, and nearly passed out.
Damn it, I'm still too dizzy to walk straight. I'll never get there!
My thoughts of that chick, dying from neglect on the first day of its life, gave me enough determination to stagger towards the door. However, it didn't give me any strength, and I almost collapsed at the reception desk.
A warm, firm hand gripped my arm. Turning carefully, I saw Nurse Elli grabbing a windbreaker jacket with her other hand.
"Since this is a matter of life and death," Elli told me, "I'll help you get there. But it's straight into bed after that, and no further activity. Understood?"
I nodded, weakly. My mind was foggy, I felt like I was freezing to death in the open air, and I knew I'd kill myself trying to walk over there on my own.
Elli got under my arm in a walking-support stance, and we left the clinic on our way, hopefully, to the rescue.
--
We reached my farm without incident. I walked over toward the chicken coop and opened the door, stepping over a sleeping Pyro as I did. Flipping on the lights, I walked toward the incubator to check on things...
...Or rather, I would have. When I flipped the switch, the lights hadn't come on. Flipping the switch a few times to be sure, I realized that the light was dead. Since I'd changed the bulb in my recent maintenance, that could only mean that the power was out.
No...
Frantic now, my head pounding from the fever (and from worry), I got over to the incubator.
The incubator was dead. So was the egg. Cracking it open, the pathetic chicken embryo glistened wetly in the semi-gloom.
Taking the chick in my hands, I walked slowly back to the open door of the coop.
Elli waited for me there, a concerned look on her face. If I'd really been paying attention, I probably would've noted what a shame it was that we'd gotten off to such a bad start.
The combination of abject heartbreak and pounding headache had me in a less-than-thinking mood, though. All I knew was that this poor little animal had died, and it'd never even had a chance to live.
Sometimes I wonder why I don't get attached to things like 'normal' people. Times like this remind me. When I get attached, I can't stand to let go, ever. And I'd grown to love this sad chick, even if it had only been mine for three days, and even if I'd only ever known it as an egg.
I had to know what happened.
"Meter," I said, lurching a little as I turned toward the pole where my power lines met the local grid.
"What?" Elli asked, apparently a little confused about my second non sequitur that day.
"The power box," I replied, "I want to check something out."
Elli followed me as I made my teetering way over to the electricity meter that measured my farm's usage.
My dad had worked as a line installer for a few utility companies, before he'd branched out and started his own contracting service. As such, I had a passing knowledge of how a utility meter worked.
And a bad childhood experiment I'd made told me what had probably happened while I was out.
I was right. As I got to the box, the breaker box that connected my line to the county's power grid wasn't locked like it should've been. The door was slightly open.
I reached in and flipped the breaker back on, ending my unscheduled brownout.
I sighed. Someone with a mind for mischief had figured out how to play with switchboxes, and my bets were on Stu. Not that I thought he was a bad kid; an hour's analysis of my dumbass actions that day told me who'd been firmly in the wrong quite well. But he was the only person in town I could think of who had the right motives.
Since I'd been avoiding both him and his sister as much as I'd been able to, I didn't know if he'd had the opportunity.
Still, it didn't really matter anymore, now did it? The damage was done, and the problem couldn't be resolved when I felt like puking from the adrenaline surge I'd been operating off of since I'd gotten out of the clinic.
I knelt down in the weeds, felt for the security tag, and, finding it, hung it where it belonged. The tags weren't really meant to be removable, so I couldn't replace it fully. I'd just explain what happened to the next guy who came to read the meter.
Elli helped me back up off the ground, and slowly, we headed back to the clinic. The sad remains of my first chicken were still loosely clutched in my left hand, and my defeatism was in full swing within my mind. I was quiet. I didn't really want to talk. All I really wanted now was to rest, and let all this go.
If I let it go, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.
Part of me wants to believe that we all tell ourselves little lies like that, to prevent the overwhelming truth from destroying us. Part of me wants to believe in a lot of things, actually. Some better than others. I don't think anyone wants me to actually believe that extreme violence solves things, for example. That belief has caused too much suffering as it is.
"Too late to save your patient, then?" A voice asked from the right. Turning my head slowly, I saw Ellen pushing her wheelchair toward us, a look of quiet sympathy on her face.
I hung my head, shaking it slowly. Closing my left hand a little more, I tried to stand a little straighter and turn toward Ellen.
"At ease, Magnus. I heard about yesterday." Ellen chuckled lightly. "First time in a long while that a local ate that much of Karen's cooking voluntarily! Guess no one warned you?"
I chuckled weakly in return. "If I'd paid closer attention, I probably would've been tipped off anyway. I didn't, I wasn't, I got mine. I'll survive."
Elli started pulling on me a little, getting me to head towards the clinic, now just across the square from us. I got the general impression that most people in this town lived either on top of, or next to, the place they worked.
Dream commute, I thought. I never did get around to learning how to drive, so having everything I needed in easy walking distance was my idea of paradise.
"C'mon, Magnus, you need to get back to your bed now," Elli stated, apparently worried that I'd turn into an old-lady kicker in addition to a child kicker.
I would've tried to tell her that the 'incident' with Stu was a once-off, but unfortunately that wasn't the whole truth. Even if the last time I'd hit someone was years before, back when I was in school (I was just loved by the administrators), I still hadn't forgiven myself for it.
We re-entered the clinic, and found two people there waiting for us. The first was Dr. Harding, a look of disapproval on his face. When he asked me what I was doing out of bed, I simply showed him the dead chicken embryo that I was still clutching in my left hand. Mumbling apologies, I headed back for my cot. I needed rest, and I wasn't going to get it arguing.
The second person who'd been waiting was Stu, and as the doctor admonished me to throw away the remains of the chicken embryo and wash my hands, I saw him run out the door.
...Well, caught him running somewhere out of the corner of my eye, at least. I was too tired to pay close attention; I was just following orders and being a good little automaton.
In less than five minutes, the fuss was over, and I was back in bed. As I went back into a feverish sleep, I began dreaming about a happy place where chickens frolicked, played, and got to attack old men in white suits with impunity.
--
Year 1, Spring 10th (Wednesday)
I woke up in a cold sweat, starving and thirsty.
Lurching to my feet, I began wandering around to see where they kept the food here. I'd check the mini fridge they kept the vaccines and such in first. I was thinking a little more clearly now, and the fact that I was sweating meant that the fever had probably broken.
Still, I'd feel better after I'd eaten.
The lobby of the clinic was completely dark. I didn't have enough light to see the clock by, but I was betting that it was past midnight. Going behind the receptionist's desk, I started looking for a medical cold storage unit. Unfortunately, all I found under the desk was a large mushroom. One that screamed in surprise when I accidentally woke it up.
Gently holding the mushroom before he could get away, I then proceeded to politely ask...
...Alright, alright. I wasn't very polite when I asked him what the hell he was doing here after-hours. Do I seem like the completely civilized type?
"Don't call me kid!"
I sighed, and tried again. Carefully, this time.
"Sorry, I'm sure you're quite grown-up and manly at all of seven years old."
...
...
...I think it's clear that I have no real sense of tact, isn't it?
"I'm eight and a half, asshole." Stu replied.
"Charming language, kid. Does your sister know you talk like that?"
"I'M NOT A KID!!!"
"What's going on down there?" a feminine voice asked from the stairwell.
I wasn't surprised that we'd woken someone up, of course. The racket we were making with our little argument could've woken the dead.
"Sorry, I was just looking for a midnight snack. There was an odd mushroom under your desk, and it got really loud when I found it."
Stu fumed at my report, and with good justification. Even if it was language an eight-year-old shouldn't know, he pretty much hit the nail on the head when he called me an asshole.
And I was in fine form tonight...
"Mushroom? What are you talking abou... oh. You really should be in bed Stu. Grandma's probably worried sick about you."
Stu stared at the floor, and half-mumbled his sullen reply. I could just make out "hates me now" and "asshole" before I rapped him on the head.
"Ow!" Stu exclaimed.
Before Elli could get in about me hitting her little brother, I made my issues with his comment clear.
"First off, Stu, I already told you that your language is inappropriate, however accurate calling me an asshole is."
"Second off, your grandmother doesn't hate you. She's trying to help you see where you made a mistake, and you ought to at least try to understand her point of view before running away."
"And third, if you want to make sullen excuses, then please do so at a level of tone high enough that the intended target can hear you. Seriously, I was right next to you and I barely caught the relevant facts."
As I looked down at Stu's sullen expression glaring up at me, I felt a rap on the head not unlike the one I'd handed out ten seconds ago.
Turning my head, I saw a rather irritated nurse giving me the same eye her brother had.
"You've made some very good points about the inappropriateness of my brother's behavior, Magnus. However, that does notgive you the right to hit him. Understood?"
I nodded, more irritated than angry. "I'm sorry about all the dumb crap I pulled. Seriously, I was out of line and I know it."
Elli sighed, looking tired and more than a little exasperated. "I'm not sure I can forgive you that easily, Magnus."
"I'm not expecting you to. I'll head back to my bed, Stu can go home and take his medicine, and you can deal with formal apologies tomorrow, when everyone's well-rested. Alright?"
Elli looked at me more critically, though I had no clue why. No one I'd hurt, however unintentionally, had ever really looked at me as anything less than a monster.
I was used to being the outsider, I didn't need sympathy...
*sigh*
...Alright, I'm lying to myself again. Gimme a break, already.
Elli sighed, stepped forward, and took her brother's hand.
"You're right, this can be dealt with tomorrow. C'mon Stu, I'm taking you home."
Stu followed, with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows. Personally, I thought he was being a little melodramatic, but since I was just as bad at his age, I wouldn't give him a hard time about it.
Not this time, at least.
As I laid back down, I considered more carefully what I was like when I was eight. As I examined my own development, I realized that Stu and I had a fair bit in common. And as I was already well-aware of, I'd massively screwed up in how I'd handled him.
Kids that age hate to be dismissed, especially when they need attention.
I realized then that that was probably what Stu needed the most. His sister was busy working all the time, and his grandmother couldn't possibly keep up with the antics of an intelligent, active eight-year-old while in a wheelchair, no matter how much the spirit was willing...
And that's when a horrendous scheme began to take shape within my fading mind.
Drifting off, I softly chuckled to myself, imagining the terrible things I was about to do as I fell into a dreamless resting state.
--
Later that morning, Dr. Harding woke me up with a gentle shake and the smell of breakfast. Bacon and eggs, both prepared at the Perch Inn. I don't think the doctor was too thrilled about the type of meal I'd been provided, but I know I was.
Thank youuu, Doug! Good cooking is just what I need to get back on my feet!
Taking the nondescript brown bag from the good doctor's hands, I dove into my breakfast with a gusto generally only seen at a pig pen (or a high school cafeteria).
"Given the way you're eating your breakfast," Dr. Harding said, a look of mild disgust on his face, "I'd say you're over the worst of the food poisoning. I'd like you to drop by tomorrow though, just so I can be sure."
I nodded as I dove into the hash browns. The doctor went on about them being closed today and how he valued his off-time, but I wasn't really paying attention to anything but breakfast. Not eating anything in two days tends to sharpen one's appetite, and mine held a razor's edge under normal conditions.
Neatly finishing off the last bit of fried egg with a corner of my toast, I then proceeded to get myself dressed. My clothes were a little overdue for a wash at this point, but that couldn't be helped. I'd change when I got home.
"Well, doc," I said as I stood up, fully dressed and ready to go, "Thank you for the lodgings. I'll recommend you to all my friends, and make sure to check in again soon."
"I'd just as soon you never need to 'check in' again, if it's all the same." Dr. Harding said, cracking the first smile I could remember seeing on him. "And please, call me Tim. Professional formality is understandable, but I prefer to get away from my job when I'm off-duty."
"At least," he flippantly amended, "when someone doesn't decide to break their arm on my day off..."
"What, did that happen once?" I asked, imagining Stu being just that well-timed in injuring himself.
Dr. Harding (excuse me, Tim) blinked a couple of times, and then laughed heartily. His deep tenor echoed through the lobby of the clinic, and I wondered if we were actually on the same wavelength.
"No, thankfully," Tim managed to say between laughs, "but you can just imagine Elli's kid brother having that sort of timing, can't you?"
I chuckled along now, hypothesis confirmed. "Sad, but true. I was about as bad as he is at that age, so I'd know."
Tim was still chuckling. "I bet. Take care, Magnus, and don't be scared to drop in from time to time. Although," his expression went back to 'professional mode,' "I meant it when I said I don't want you spending the night too often. Don't abuse your body just because you can, or you'll regret it later."
"You're probably right," I replied, my hat on and one foot out the door. "Have fun today, Doc, I'm heading off to enlist some child labor. Later!"
I ran off before Tim could catch on to what I was talking about. He'd probably get the whole story from Elli later. Right now, I needed to enlist some... wait, I meant that I wished to offer Stu a nice, fun time playing on my farm.
At least, that'd be my pitch. We all know what it really is though, right? Of course we do.
I headed across the square and knocked on Ellen's door, hoping that she'd be up so I could handle this before I went back to work. I was pretty sure that my crops would need re-planting today, and I wanted to get onto that.
Elli, wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe over grey sweatpants and a blue teddy-bear shirt, answered the door.
We will now have a brief moment of silence in honor of my sorry, leering corpse, which will be mercilessly decapitated in about five seconds.
SLAM! The front door came at me with a rush, missing my nose by about .07 seconds. Apparently I'd have to wait.
I sat down and leaned against the decorative picket fence that marked the border of Ellen's front yard. Settling down to wait while Elli got dressed (and trying to imagine what the other girls I'd met in town wore to bed), I almost missed someone passing by.
In fact, if they hadn't kicked me to get my attention, I probably would've completely ignored them.
"Morning Magnus!" Ann said, far too cheerfully for 6:30 in the morning. "Enjoy your breakfast?"
"Yeah, I did," I replied. "Thanks."
"No prob. Dad'll send you the bill later."
I looked up, suddenly a little more alarmed. "WHAT!?"
Ann giggled, her laugh reminding one that when all else was said and done, she was still a girl.
"I was kidding, don't worry! Even a deadbeat like you deserves a free meal when they're sick!"
"Well, I guess I'll have to get sick more often then."
Ann's humor evaporated like a campaign promise after an election.
"Don't even joke about that, Magnus. Every memory I've got of my mom is of her being sick, and I don't like it when people take being healthy so lightly. Got it!?"
Ouch. I think I might've struck a nerve. "Ok, I'm sorry!"
"You'd better be sorry!" Ann sighed, and took a few deep breaths, probably to calm herself down. "What are you hanging around here for, anyway? I would've thought you'd head straight home after getting out of the clinic..."
"Well, while I was in town I thought I'd deal with some business I've been putting off."
Ann lived in a town with a population of less than 50 people. She worked in the town's only restaurant, and was a girl besides.
Therefore, I wasn't surprised that she knew exactly what I was talking about.
"That, huh? About time. Is it true you ordered your dog to attack him?"
"Not really. Pyro just decided that he needed to help me on his own. Dogs will do that sometimes in a fight."
"How would you know?"
"Firsthand experience."
Ann looked at me critically, not sure what to believe or what to expect from me. Well, let her stay in the dark.
It's not really her business anyhow, and if it's important I'm sure she'll get the gist of it from a friend or neighbor.
I decided to end the conversation, hopefully without committing suicide.
"Well, I'm sure you've probably got a lot to do today, so don't let me hold you up," I said, nonchalantly getting back to my waiting position. "Catch you later."
Ann smacked me, called me an asshole, and stormed off.
Let's face it, folks, when it comes to charm, I'm no James Bond. Not by a damn long shot.
Just then, the door opened, and Elli stepped outside; towing Stu behind her. Ellen, a blanket covering her up to the shoulders and wearing a knit sleeping cap over her hair, followed discreetly, closing the door behind her.
As I stood up, Elli shoved her little brother in front of her, leaving him in a no-man's-land between the two of us, and asked Stu if there was anything he'd like to say to me.
"Actually," I interrupted, "I think I should go first. I'm sorry for how I've treated you in the past few days, Stu. My behavior was out of line and I know it. I should've exercised more control over my temper when dealing with you. Will you please forgive me?"
I knelt down as I said this, bringing myself to Stu's level.
Stu hit me square in the nose.
I took it, waving off Elli's near-interference. This had to play out, and I was going to let it.
"It's your fault that chick died."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because... because... I don't know, alright?"
Stu tried to hit me again, but I dodged this time and gently grabbed his wrist. When he tried to pull away, I pulled him into a hug and let him cry things out.
I'd been a lonely kid once. I'd been where Stu was right now. I knew what he really needed most right now, and I wanted to help him find it.
"It's ok, alright Stu? I can get another egg to hatch. I'll even let you raise this one, if you want."
Stu didn't look up.
I didn't expect him to trust me; I'd already made it clear to him that I wasn't his friend, at least within his own mind. But I was pretty sure I could help him anyway.
Even if I had to play the villain to do so.
"Well, even if you don't, I'm going to make you."
Stu did look up now, a combination of surprise and anger on his face.
I smirked, knowing I had him right where I wanted him now.
"That's right Stu, you're not getting off the hook so easily! From now on, you'll be my assistant on the farm. Consider it a way to pay me back for those windows I need to replace. After they're paid for though, I might consider giving you some pocket money for the work. That'll depend on whether or not you can work hard and do the job right, of course..."
"Absolutely NOT!" Elli cried out, her face livid with rage. Checking Ellen's reaction though, I knew she'd caught on to my scheme.
Now to see if I had an ally in her...
"Relax, Elli. I'm sure Magnus won't let Stu come to any harm while he's at work. And it'll be good for him to keep busy while you're at work and I'm taking my afternoon nap. He needs something like this."
Not really, I thought, as Elli placed her own concerns about both my reliability and her brother's safety forward. What he needs, he'll probably never get. But this is the next best thing, and hopefully I can pay enough attention to him to keep him out of serious trouble.
Ellen cooled Elli down, convinced her that if anything bad happened, Stu would be immediately sent to the clinic and that if I was too abusive to Stu she'd personally bring him home. I was really glad to have Ellen's trust, and hoped that I didn't lose it while trying to help her grandson.
I had too much to lose if that happened, and it'd be all too easy if Stu and I didn't find a way to get along.
Seriously folks, I've decided that I like the squirt. I'd treat him like a brother, honest.
The problem is, I'm not exactly the role model sibling. I'm more like the older brother some of you actually have. You know, the bullying, overbearing, I-was-here-first-so-I-deserve-more type?
"Alright," Elli said, breaking me out of my soliloquy. "Show him around today, and I'll let him start first thing tomorrow. He still has to go to school, but from 6 in the morning until then he's all yours. I'd like to see him around when I'm not at the clinic, so he gets Wednesdays off."
"Sounds fair," I replied.
"I'll negotiate how much he'll make when you feel he's paid off his debts," Ellen chimed in.
"Absolutely fair," I said, silently thanking Ellen for taking that issue out of my hands. "Now then Stu, I think we should head over to my place so I can show you what you'll be doing. I'll drop by Rick's on the way to pick up your charge."
Stu refused to meet my gaze, a sullen, discontented look on his face. Given the situation, I felt that I probably understood why. I'd thrown a pretty good situation at him, but still, it wasn't his choice. It'd be an uphill battle to get him to enjoy something if he wasn't willing to give it a fair shot.
Still, I had one last trick up my sleeve that might help motivate him...
"If we hurry, we might catch May before she heads home. I've got her helping me with my horse."
Stu was off like a shot. Thankfully, in the right direction.
Guess the normal prejudices don't apply when there aren't as many other boys around, I thought, thankful that my little trick had worked.
I let Stu run ahead, since I knew exactly where I'd catch up to him. Chuckling, I headed home. By way of Rick's, of course.
Had to get a replacement egg, after all...
--
When I got home, I noticed something odd about the crops. Specifically, they were properly watered. I dipped a finger into the soil to be sure.
Yup, still damp. Needs more for today, but someone actually took care of them while I was stuck in bed. I wonder who...
Unfortunately, I didn't have much more time for introspection. A shriek from the stable indicated that I was needed for a quick rescue, and that Stu needed to learn what he'd be doing for the foreseeable future.
Life, for me, was getting back on-kilter.
Humming an old Beatles tune that'd suddenly sprung to mind, I headed over to save the day once more, this time from a much easier peril.
Ob-la-dee! Ob-la-dah! Life goes ooooooon! Tra-la-la-la, life goes on!
--
Author's Note: My sincere apologies to Jersey Strat-o if I got the above lyrics wrong. And to my readers if I got too inconsistent with this chapter. It's been a little while since I picked this up.