CHAPTER 26: The Arrow Flying


Outlasting Fluffy and his beloved mate, Andy continued to remain behind, his energy naturally replenished, his toon body remaining young. He watched Skippy's children grow up and flourish into their own families. His own son eventually grew into a handsome squirrel, always staying near his father. Most of the Looney Tunes were still around Los Angeles as well, along with the Tiny Toons, made ageless by the laughter they had given to the world.
Like Plucky and Shirley, the Tiny Toons did age and grow into adults yet still retained much of their youthful looks and spirits. They sprouted families of their own, and a whole new conglomeration of toons appeared--a new generation of life had been brought into the world.
As the decades passed, the animation industry slowly ebbed away into non-existence as centuries drifted by on Earth, putting Andy out of part of his job as an agent toon actors. It was not much of a financial impact, however, as the fox always had more money than he knew what to do with. He continued to remain a devoted scientist working at Tetra Dimensional, his son eventually coming to join him in his work. Together, they excelled in their scientific endeavors, continuing to bring new advances in science to the toon world.
And, still, the fox was infrequently plagued by mysterious and confusing dreams, where a large white rabbit would appear in his thoughts, crossing the landscape of his mind like an open field in spring. The rabbit would turn, and eyes the fox curiously, an odd sense of beckoning and of loneliness evident in its features. These feelings would always be followed by a strong wave of warmth and comfort, and the rabbit would hop away, disappearing into the mist of his mind from whence it came, and Andy would awaken in the night, confused and lonely, but also with a slightly giddy hot sensation that somewhere, an old friend was somehow still about, ever watching, ever waiting, and perhaps someone else was as well.

"How many years has it been?" Andy asked Wile E. one day as they sat and watched Skippy's youngest grandson, now fully grown, playing a game of professional baseball.
"You mean since you came?" Wile E. scowled as he thought a moment. "About a hundred and sixty years I'd say."
Andy nodded to himself and muttered. "It's been over three hundred on Earth. Heh. If you believe in time, that-is. You don't look a day over one hundred, yourself," he joked back at the coyote. Then he sighed and looked down at his feet. "I still miss her, you know. It's been over half a century and I still think about her all the time. I can't help it--It's like a part of me has been lost."
"I know," the coyote nodded, patting Andy's back. "Like you said, if time matters here. How's Anthony?"
Andy cracked a smile. "Heh. He won his fourth Nobel Prize."
"Has his father's genius, eh? Always said he was smart."
"He's starting to challenge even me." Andy laughed briefly, then fell suddenly silent. His next words came out little louder than a whisper. "I don't want to outlive the rest of my family, Wile E."
The coyote looked a bit alarmed. He eyed Andy apprehensively. "Fox?"
Andy stood and walked off with no further word, leaving Wile E. sitting on the bleachers.