"A funeral?" asked Richard. "Are you sure
you want to do this?"
"Richard, Gadget's parents had their funeral.
Maybe an owl ate my parents, but they at least deserve some sort of ceremony.
Please? Let me just say good-bye to them. I never did, and——that may just
be what has been eating at me all this time." Otis shook his head,
"But Foxy, that owl lady might still be
in that park!"
"Or she might be dead. It's been twenty
years, you know. Either way, it doesn't matter now. We'll go during the
day." If Otis didn't know better, he could swear that this was practically
a suicide mission. Foxglove's reactions at The Nutshell several days ago
were very unsettling, even if she and Dale had parted on friendlier terms.
Now she wanted to do this. It seemed natural, to attend a funeral, and
yet so suicidal to have it near a place where a *known* predator lived.
Perhaps they shouldn't go alone. Perhaps this might be another opportunity
to do something about her and Dale—
"Foxy, are you sure you don't want to bring
the Rescue Rangers along? After all the time they spent with you, they
*may* want to say something on behalf of your parents—"
"No, Otis," she replied firmly. "The Rangers
and I have parted our ways. This is not their world anymore. This is *ours*
now. They never knew my parents, and neither did I, so this is something
I must do myself, with your help, of course."
"Do you want me and Richard to keep our
distance?" asked Rosie. "If that's the way you feel, we don't want to interfere
with anything."
"No, no, it's okay, Rosie. You two and
the other elder bats are the closest thing to parents that I've ever had,
so it's okay if you come along." It was true. This was more or less what
Dale wanted: her finding someone else. And she had found others who loved
her. So she had decided that after the funeral she would sneak back to
the Ranger's Headquarters and leave Dale her final note. He, too, must
find someone else, and the note appeared to be the only possible way of
making that happen. Dale had his life to live, and now she had to live
hers, in this cave outside of New Jersey. It wasn't all that bad, it had
all the comforts of a typical chiropterid home, including customised furniture
that was bolted to the roof of the cave. She went to a cabinet and prepared
her prescription again.
"Sess, are yew shewre yew wann tew dew
theyes? Ah'm worrey'd 'bout yew."
"Don't be, Feyyanna. I'm all right, really."
Foxglove then took another pill and drank some water.
"Nowe, yew AIN'T!!" she finally exclaimed,
tail and ears stiffening, trying to knock some sense into her adopted sister.
"Yew're dayen'!! Ann yew HAYAVE BINN dayen' sennse yew'n Dayel splett!!"
Foxglove swallowed and echosounded at her.
"Feyyanna, Foxglove is already DEAD. I'm
no longer Dale's wife. I am now your sister! Please, let me say good-bye
to my parents. Maybe things will get better after that." Feyyanna calmed
down a trifle and relaxed her ears and tail.
"Oh, awl raght. But are yew shewre yew'll
bay fann ayefter theyes?"
"Yes. I will—maybe—" The others hoped.
They could only hope…
