Chapter 10

Fox sat on a bench outside of the hardware shop in the village center. It was a very snowy day, as snow came down like the heavens had a surplus of the white stuff. One year ago, Fox loved the snow. Now, however, he was beginning to see the downfalls of a hard winter. For one thing, he was old enough, being an adult now, to go onto rooftops and brush the heavy snow off them so that they wouldn't cave in. Every time he did that, he would have visions of him losing his balance and falling off the roof or falling through already weak thatching exhausted by the weight, breaking a few bones in the process. But he was cautious enough to avoid that scenario, but it only took one false move, as Frankjo told him.

As Fox sat, he moved a booted foot close to him and began to massage it by the toes to keep the circulation going. This wasn't a slight dusting of snow; this was an all-out whitewash. Some of the buildings in the center had snow plied on top of them as if a giant came along and put frosting on top of the roofs, thinking they were unfrosted cakes. The white stuff was not restricted to the tired, cold roofs either; the whole main road was blanketed in it too and piled up with frozen hover bikes and buried fences. Even windowsills had their collections of snow.

"Jerimijo!" an older kit called from the hardware store. Fox immediately looked up and noticed it was Keslo, a fox who helped supply the store. He was known throughout the village for his short height and loud mouth, which sowed the seeds of his short temper. Fox never really spoke to him or put up with his attitude; he was too busy with loving Maria and helping Frankjo and Janetka.

Suddenly, a fox about his own age stormed up to the store, probably the Jerimijo Keslo was talking to. He wore a kilt, which showed that he wasn't an adult yet, but he couldn't be far off from fifteen. Fox watched as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans under his coat, which looked more like a plaid blanket than a coat. He stuck his head in the doorway while leaning a hand on the jam. "Do you have my coil of barbed wire yet, man?" he asked.

"No, how much did you want again?"

Grumbling, the fox banged his hand on the door jam. "I said five hundred yards, man! I need it for today, and it's almost noon already!"

"Hey, don't look at me, I'm not in charge of the wires!" Keslo barked. "If I even cared about your problems, do you think you'd even be able to count to five hundred?"

Shaking his head, the fox stepped away from the store and collapsed in the same bench Fox was sitting in. Fox couldn't remember seeing him before in the village. He didn't even recall seeing him during the yearly ceremonies, for that matter. But Jerimijo looked like a fox that would be hard to ignore. Fox could see that under his blanket-coat was a black leather jacket, complete with many pockets and buttons. He had a vibrantly colored kilt around his waist with dark jeans underneath. Fox looked down at himself, the now familiar dark green linen coat with large sleeve holes, white shirt underneath, and tattered brown pants, complete with boots he had worn since he was thirteen. He was a poor piece of work. Being an adult now, he no longer wore a kilt, but he sometimes wished he could on cold days like these.

Jerimijo turned to Fox while smiling through an exhausting sigh. "Hello," he started, "I don't remember seeing you before. Where do you live, man?"

"I live on the east side of town with the Milowskis," Fox replied. He couldn't understand what the kit was smiling at, after all, what was to smile about stinging wind and frigid temperatures?

"Really, man? With Frankjo? Didn't Frankjo serve in the Unonian Royal Army?"

Fox scratched an ear, feeling a little uneasy being bombarded with questions. "Umm, yeah, he did. Why?"

"My father always speaks of Uno and how terrible in shape the whole nation is. He says we have no sense of ourselves – we fight each other and lower our guards as other nations prepare to attack us, man. How can a nation stay together when all we do is kill each other?"

Fox rolled his eyes. He was used to hearing elders spend hours debating over how Uno was in chaos and what should be done to restore it to past glory. The orations were brutal and boring, but Frankjo said it was best to listen so he could formulate his own opinions instead of being oblivious to the situation. Most of what he gathered and listened to came from Frankjo and his now dead father, but he still managed to keep an open mind and gather solid views on most topics regarding Uno and war. "Well, Uno is currently ruled by a weak king. He is too focused on himself instead of the nation. Canvhis said they wouldn't help either; they have problems of their own. Russkoff II is one of the weakest Carzinskis ever to rule Canvhis. His laziness has deserted us from any help from Canvhis. So it's up to us, the Unonian citizens, to choose how this country will run."

Jerimijo shifted nervously in his seat as he moved his tail on the bench and out of the snow. "Why don't we just appease the Mafians and settle out a compromise, man? It would end a lot of suffering in Uno!"

Fox bent his ears down in rage. Without warning, he reached over and belted the Jerimijo with a hard, cold fist. The kit smacked the ground hard and landed in the snow, still shocked as to what transpired. Fox kept a close eye on him as Jerimijo stood up and brushed himself off while Fox shook the sting off his hand. When he finished that task, he looked up and glared at Fox. "You did that on purpose, didn't you, man?"

Fox returned his glare. "Maybe if you understood who I was and what I've been through, you'd understand why I punched you. I did it before, I wouldn't mind doing it again!" He started cracking his knuckles.

Suddenly, the other fox sat down and scooted his tail back on the bench. "Ohhh, I see, you're that one fox that came from Selena." He paused and pointed at Fox. "McCloud, right?"

"Yes," Fox replied. "Fox McCloud. Who are you?"

"The name's Jerimijo McFlist, man. I lived on the opposite side of the village, but I'm rarely in the center. See, I lay out barbed wire for you ranchers in the pastures. I've been doing that for a few years now, man, and I'm finally starting to get used to it now." He paused. "I thought you looked a little familiar. You have green eyes, and I wouldn't forget that."

"Yeah I do," Fox sighed as he lowered his guard and his ears rose to normal. "You know I came from Selena, but do you know why I came from Selena to Fasaldesk?"

A long pause came from Jerimijo. "No, I don't think I was told that, man. I just assumed that if the villagers wanted to tell me, they would. You don't understand – I rarely socialize with anyone in this village." He paused again, almost as if he was waiting for Fox to respond. "Well, okay, so why did you move to this town, man?"

Fox looked sternly into Jerimijo's eyes. "One day, a band of Mafian soldiers stormed into my peaceful town and killed everyone in it. My parents were brutally murdered, and I'll never forget what they did to them. I will never allow the Mafians to be appeased. They must be stopped."

Jerimijo scooted toward Fox. "But if everyone was killed, how did you survive?"

"I wasn't in the town that day. I was told by my father to run away, and I obeyed him. It was the last time I saw him alive." He let out another sigh as he gazed at his hands through the sleeves of his coat.

"I see," Jerimijo replied in a solemn tone. "I'm sorry, McCloud, for–"

"It's Fox," Fox interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Fox, for saying that. I guess meeting someone who has gone through that can change an opinion, right, man?"

"It's your opinion, you should mold it into what you want," Fox replied.

"I know, but…" he paused and brought a hand to his muzzle. "But I never thought of who was wrong and who was right before. Killing people, especially innocent people, is a barbaric and sinful thing to do, man. Okay, I'm with you, Fox. So we have to defeat the Mafians. But how, man? There's so many of them, and it's so hard to demolish all of their divisions scattered around this land."

Fox scooted closer to Jerimijo. "How do you think Uno defeated Hazardouse almost forty years ago?" he asked. "Our defenses were down to nothing, we had no support from other nations, and their army kept a stranglehold on us. But we fought back. Frankjo always talks about how brave him and my father were in that time and in other times, but he never ends it there. The Unonian people fought back, established their own new armies, and drove them out of Uno. Many men like you and me became mercenaries or generals." He paused. "Frankjo thinks boldness and bravery is in the heart of every true Unonian, and if we would unite, we could finish off the Mafia for good. Who knows? Maybe those Unonians who joined the Mafia would turn back if they saw how determined we would be. Then all of us foxes would be together again."

"Ack!" Jerimijo suddenly cried. "I can't talk about this stuff for so long, man! It's too depressing!"

"It's only depressing to see our brothers and sisters turn against us," Fox remarked. "That's why the Mafia must be stopped. All Mafians used to be Unonians, but they gave that up when they decided to follow evil." He paused and started cracking his knuckles again, this time to bring back some circulation.

"Those are nice hands, man," Jerimijo said. He gazed down at Fox with soulful eyes.

Fox looked up and laughed. "Oh, they hurt from the cold, and they freeze up sometimes when I work out in the fields." He laughed slightly again. "Ranching can be tough work sometimes."

Jerimijo laughed too. "I wish I had nice hands like those." He slid his hands from his pockets and put them in front of his lap. They were an absolute mess, covered in white cloth speckled in blood and open sores. A few of the fingers were purple even, from working out in the frigid temperatures, Fox assumed. They looked like they could crack open at any minute and seep out rich blood, as the skin under the matted red and black fur looked to be as dry as warm wood shavings.

"What happened to them?" Fox asked with awe.

Jerimijo hid them under his blanket-coat. "I lay out barbed wire, and I usually end up sticking myself every once and a while. Sometimes I'll lose feeling in them and won't be able to tell if they are being cut up or not." He sighed as he stared out in front of himself, gazing at the stores on the other side of the street with their thatched roofs engulfed in white snow. "I just wish I could take better care of them, man. Someday, I'd like to get married, but what vixen wouldn't mind putting a ring on one of my fingers? None of them, man. That's for sure."

Fox frowned, trying to see if he could catch another glimpse of his hands. "Why don't you buy gloves?"

"I don't know, man," he finally confessed after thinking for a while. "I don't have any money, so I just make the best of what I have. These rags," he said as he pulled his hands back out, "are cloth from a shirt I had when I was a small kit."

Fox thought for a moment as he continued to stare at the kit's hands. He wished he could do something for him, but he wasn't sure what. "Do you want gloves?"

"More than a warm meal, man," Jerimijo replied.

"Come over to Frankjo's, and he might get you some. Just stop by whenever."

"You mean it?" Jerimijo asked as his face lit up. Fox nodded his head with a smirk. "Thanks, man!" he said as he patted him on the back with a wounded hand.

Any other Fox would've been bothered by his hand touching him, but Fox didn't care. After all, he had green eyes and no parents, so he knew what it was like to be excluded. It's almost as if his setback and differences had made him stronger as the years went by, he realized. Four years ago, back when he was living in Selena, he never would have guessed he would one day be a hard worker in both ranching and learning, and in love with a great vixen. Concentrating harder, Fox decided that he wouldn't have been able to learn the Chaljsko without suffering first.

"Say Fox," Jerimijo said. Fox shook his head and stared back at the fox next to him. "How would you like to be my friend, man? I don't boast, and I'd be a fair and honest friend. I mean, I don't know, I'm just… lonely, you know, man?"

Fox frowned as he looked down at the kit, who stared hopefully back at him. He looked like he was poor too, and the way his hands were reminded him of how he was treated in Selena. Memories can make decisions for their captors, and Fox was no exception. Fox nodded his head, gripped the kit's shoulder, and shook it. "Sure thing, Jerimijo. Why not? You can just–"

"Hello, Fox!" Maria said as she stepped up to him. She sat down opposite of Jerimijo and rubbed her head on Fox's chest with warm affection.

Maria! Fox thought. I forgot! I don't know if I'll have the time to spend with Jerimijo since I'm booked with her and work! He turned to Maria, and, with a great smile, kissed his love in her hair. When he pulled his head away, she looked up at him with deep blue eyes and kissed him on the cheek with a light peck – a prelude to what was to come for later in the day, Fox thought and hoped. Then, with a smooth turn, he glanced back at Jerimijo, who stared at them with curious appreciation.

"Who's that?" he asked. Fox leaned back so that Jerimijo could see Maria more clearly.

"Me?" Maria asked as her blue furry ears caught his words. "I'm Maria McDiliosko."

"Are you two in love?" Jerimijo inquired.

Both fox and vixen nodded their heads. Fox opened his mouth. "We love each other very much and spend a lot of time with each other," he replied.

"I see," Jerimijo replied. "Well, I think I'll leave you two alone then, okay?" He got up and began to walk into the hardware store, stuffing his hands back into his pants pockets, shuffling his feet as he glumly trudged along. He opened the door, as it had blown open a few minutes ago to Fox's surprise, and walked right in as a bell greeted his presence.

"Who was that?" Maria asked. She placed a hand on Fox's chest and looked up at him forlornly. "He looks sad."

Feeling a little worried himself, Fox sighed. He smiled at Maria, hoping to convince her that everything was okay, but she saw right through it. "Okay, he says he's lonely. He asked me to be his friend, and I agreed. But I don't really have time, you know? It's not that I'm insensitive, I just don't want him to think that I'm ignoring him."

"Fox," Maria began as she held onto his arm to keep warm, "We spend a lot of time together. That will never change. You work a lot. That will not change for a long time. But you have to keep your word. Why don't you spend time with him when you sit here waiting for me, or on the days you don't work, when Frankjo tells you to take a day off or go to the center to pick up something?"

"I could do that," Fox replied as he stroked Maria's arm. "But does that mean I'll have to cut into our time together?"

Maria paused and looked up at Fox. "Maybe sometimes. I hope not, but whatever happens is God's plan."

Suddenly, Jerimijo burst through the rickety wooden door and took a few steps forward before sticking his head back into the shop. "You better learn to get stronger, Keslo! I never seen someone cry so hard from just a few scratches, man!" Maria and Fox watched him with odd looks as he shook his head and walked toward them. "Some people live sheltered lives, man," he said with a chuckle as he plopped back down on the bench.

"What do you do, Jerimijo?" Maria asked suddenly with a warm, supportive smile. Fox could tell she was hoping to help him too.

"Oh I lay out barbed wire every day. It's hard work, but I don't mind it. My father says it builds character." Noticing his hands were out in front of him, he set the large roll of barbed wire next to him and tucked his hands into his pockets. He shifted in his seat to move away from the coil, but it caught on his kilt and ripped a small hole in it. Groaning, he reached back out and yanked it off the wire. "I can't wait until I turn into an adult next month," he muttered. "Then I can get rid of this kilt."

The antics of Jerimijo made Fox laugh slightly, and he turned his head to Maria to see if she felt the same way. But she had a surprised look on her face. Grimacing, Fox knew she saw his hands. She wouldn't ask about it to the kit's face, since Fox knew that wasn't her style. But seeing her shocked made him uneasy.

"Well," Jerimijo began as he stood up and lifted the coil in his hands, "I should probably get going. My father's going to wonder where I've been. I don't know when I'll be free to meet you again, Fox. Maybe in the spring or sometime later when I work on the fields near your home." Extending out a hand, Fox shook it firmly and released it when Jerimijo pulled away. He watched the kit slowly jog down the main road until his disappeared around a tall snowdrift near the market.

"He seems like a nice kit, and I can see why you feel so attached to him but you don't know why," Maria suddenly said.

"How?" Fox asked. He turned around and gazed into her deep blue eyes.

"Like you when you first moved here, he is lonely and misunderstood. People look at him and see what he is on the outside, with his mangled hands and poor clothes. But inside, he is a bright young fox, hungry to make himself into something no one else would ever expect. Then he'd show them who he really is."

Fox gazed down at Maria with a puzzling stare. "How do you know this?"

"It's not hard to read you sometimes, Fox," she replied with a smirk. She brought her lips close to his and kissed him. For such a cold day, she seemed to warm Fox up. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't frail or poor," she added when she pulled away. "But I know it's what God gave me, and He made me like that for a reason. I believe everything He gives us works in His plans."

"I do to, Maria," Fox replied, still glowing from the kiss. "You're beautiful just the way you are, my love."

Maria smiled warmly as a gust of wind whipped around the two foxes. "So are you," she replied. "Thank you, Fox."

"No matter what happens, I will never leave you, my Maria," Fox stated.

Maria glowed. "I will be with you forever, my love."