I really, really don't want to, though, Mom and Dad, but I get the sinking feeling that if I don't spill, I'm going to be facing the full orchestra before too much longer instead of just some of the music- and really, they deserve to know why I'm in trouble in the first place...
"Ummmm…..," I stammer, hoping I can stall for just long enough so that way Mom can get her emotions back in check, but based on the growing scowl on her face, well, let's just put it simply- it doesn't look good.
Let's see, what are my options here? I gotta think about the options, and yeah, they don't look too hot- I either spill, and get my hide tanned (again!) or I lie about what I was doing and hope I don't get caught, which, as any young mammal has probably learned, never works.
"I'm waiting….," Mom says, tapping her foot, tail flicking angrily behind her back.
It's now or never, and I want to live, so I think I'll choose 'now.'
"Fine, Mom," I say, sighing, "you were there, but I'll explain it again so it gets through to you- the school board decided that they didn't want to deal with us anymore. They said that we were expelled, and I'm guessing that they didn't just mean 'until the end of the school year' expelled, Mom, oh, no, they don't ever want us back…"
"And did what they say make any more sense to you than it did to me?" Mom asks, tail flicking angrily behind her and a teeth-bared snarl on her face. Thankfully, though, she manages to get ahold of her emotions, but not before her claws dig unto her palms. I don't think she realizes that she's quite as angry as she is until the pain starts to sink in, and then she yelps in surprise, frustration and pain overtaking her features instead of the anger that was perched on them just seconds before, and she sighs, letting her breath out in an angry huff.
"No, Mom," I tell her, trying to keep my voice calm. I'm riled up enough as it is, I don't want to make this worse.
"I'm sorry, Judy," she says, placing a comforting paw on my shoulder and directing me towards the cast iron bench that's been installed outside of the shop, presumably for the convenience of the customers. Whatever its original purpose, for the next however long it takes, this bench is going to be the home for some rather interesting discussions. "I didn't...oh, here, let's sit and talk this out, hmm?"
"That sounds fine with me," I say, letting a hint of a smile ghost my face. Two seconds later, we're at the bench, and so both of us sit, and Mom begins the discussion, a worried look having replaced the angry one, but the concern in her eyes is still there, and clearer than ever.
"So, daughter dear," she says, putting her right paw in my lap, which I take. "I'm angry too, but fuming's not going to help anything... Your dad and I have been looking all over for you, and you had us both worried sick. What are you doing down here?"
At that, I sigh, too. "Well, you said to start from the beginning earlier, so that's exactly what I was planning to do."
Thankfully, Mom still seems to stay calm at that little snippet of news, although I can see her hackles raise us slightly, and this time, it's me lending the comforting paw.
"We need to go right back there and take care of the problem. You're my daughter, Judy, and if those bastards-"
"Dad!" I cry, surprised at his outburst. "Dad, really, it's fine. Look, you're not going to get anywhere with those pricks, okay? They don't care about us, and fighting, well, it's what got us into this mess, remember? Just going back to them isn't going to change their minds, Dad. I don't want to fight them about it."
"So that's it then?" Dad asks me, a disappointed frown creasing his lips. "You just want to give up? I thought we raised you better than that!"
"You did, Dad, and I'm not saying that we should just give up. What I was trying to say to say, before I was so rudely interrupted-"
"Judy!" Mom cuts me off. "That's no way to talk to your father! Apologize to him right now!"
"But-" I stammer, trying to stall.
"But nothing! You apologize, or I'm going to ground you for the rest of your life, young lady!"
"What? Why?!" I try to protest, but the combined scowls of both of my parents kills my words on the tip of my tongue.
"You know exactly why, Judy, so just do it," Nick says, smiling at me sadly. "I'm in trouble too," he says, pointing to where his mom is standing by the lamppost across the road, where Ms. Hopps is waiting to cross the street, "or at least I will be when she manages to get over here."
Just then, the light at the intersection turns red and the crosswalk sign flashes white, and Ms. Hopps starts over. When she's all the way across, she starts straight for us, and it the look on her face is any indication of how this whole thing is going to go down, well, then I'm flocking screwed, and both Nick and I are going to be in an even larger pile of scat.
"Nick?" I ask, my voice trembling at that prospect.
"Yeah, Judy, I see her," he says, his voice shaking as well. "Would you hold my hand?"
"Oh, come on, Nick, it can't be that bad, can it?" I ask, now suddenly a lot more scared myself, and I hope that I survive the next ten minutes.
When Ms. Hopps does reach our little group, though, the look on her face seems more puzzled than angry, though.
"Okay," she says, "where have you two been, and why the hell aren't you at the board meeting?"
"See, Mom, that's the thing, " Nick says, the bravado that I've been coming to expect from him nowhere to be found, "both of us figured that there was no point in hanging around, especially after what they said about us at that meeting."
"And what was that?" Ms. Hopps asks, looking at both of us expectantly.
"Well, Ms. Hopps," I say, "they said that we were nothing but troublemakers that had no business being allowed in their school."
"Okay, I can understand that," Ms. Hopps says, nodding slightly. "It makes sense, but then why are you two here? What put the idea in your foolish minds to run halfway across town and give your parents awful frights?"
"I'm sorry, Mom," Nick says, "I really didn't mean to cause any trouble, it's just-"
"It's just what?" Ms. Hopps interrupts, the scowl on her face combined with the angry tap-tap-tapping of her foot not helping my nerves in the slightest.
"They said that they would never trust foxes, because all foxes are ever good for is causing trouble," I say, my voice sinking down to a whisper in embarrassment. "You were there, what about this is so hard to understand?"
At this, Ms. Hopps lets out an angry huff, and her paw starts to tap faster, then as soon as it started, it stops. "I see," she says, shaking her head in disgust. "Everything, you know... I was there too and it makes no more sense to me as I'm sure it does to you..."
I nod, the tips of my ears heating up in a blush, though for Karma's sake, I don't know why.
"That's exactly what I thought. Come on, let's go," she says, starting off back down the street to the corner.
"Mom, wait," Nick calls out. "Where are you going?"
"Where do you think?" she calls back over her shoulder.
"I have no idea, but I don't get a good feeling about it, that's for sure…."
"Relax," she says, "it'll be fine. Follow me, please."
We all do, and five minutes later, we're standing in front of a drab office building, the awnings in tatters and the windows gray with grime. This is still Bunnyburrow, but it's not a great place. This is the old industrial district, the part that's been where the Mayor now stuffs everyone who she doesn't want to deal with anymore.
This is Senator Bogo's office building, and I swear there weren't as many ash smears all over it the last time that I was here...
"If you want answers, here's where you're going to get them." She gestures towards the reception desk, where one overweight cheetah sits, happily chowing down on a box of Lucky Chomps.
I go over, and at first, he doesn't notice me, but a "Hello? Down here!" gets his attention.
"Oh, hello," he says, smiling. "How can I help you?"
"Could you set up an appointment for us with Senator Bogo?" I ask. "We need to see him as soon as possible; if you can help us with that, that'd be great!" I say.
"Well, you're in luck," he says. "He's free now, if you'd like to go in." With that, he presses the intercom and speaks into it. "Sir, you have visitors."
"Very well," comes the gruff baritone from the other end of the line. "Send them in, and I'll see what I can do."