CHAPTER TWO

Wolfington Point.

Fifty rooms. Fifty thousand square feet of living area. Fifty servants, half of whom maintained fifty hectares of parkland kept green by the finest irrigation system in Redshore. The entire metropolis was located in the heart of the Adaven Desert where the control of water determined your level of power. Porsha's father owned a large share of the water rights, and like dangling cheese above mice, he flaunted it with his obsession with fountains. Every property called for a dancing forest of spouts, typically inside the circular driveway. Wolfington, of course, was no different. It was, by far, the most valued Crystal estate, not because of its huge ballroom or stained glass rose windows but because of its long history which included lupine elites dating back to the city's founding. It was almost incumbent on Jimmy to buy it and so he did for thirty million.

Porsha sprawled herself on the wide massage chair of the limousine as it pulled in. She thought back to those years as a pup when her father was a rising star—a millionaire then, not a billionaire. The purchase of Wolfington marked the beginning of his ultra-elite status. It made headlines. JIMMY CRYSTAL BUYS HISTORIC LANDMARK. Reporters, ever so sensationalist, were quick to goggle at Jimmy's ambitions. No one bothered to ask what his family thought about it though. As a little pup, the idea of having two homes instead of one was mindblowing, let alone two mansions. Their first home was already a maze. Now there were two mazes! Her puppy self loved getting lost in them. She loved hiding from her personal maids whenever it was bath time, running naked in the hallways that were so wide that a plane could land in them.

On the opposite end was Porsha's mother who expressed concern, her disapproval made crystal clear. Despite Jimmy assuring otherwise, she couldn't shake the inkling that Wolfington was a publicity stunt. She tolerated Jimmy's antics, even stomached his uncouth mannerisms on television, but growing wealth from ego was one thing. Growing ego from wealth was another. Five mansions later, things reached a breaking point. Porsha was just six years old when her parents divorced. Of course, as if a wolf itself, the media devoured the news. Impudent and daring teens attempted to reach her bedroom window to catch a glimpse of her woes with their camera phones. It was safe to say that it was the only other time she disliked the attention. All she could offer the world was confused sadness.

Her father took it harder. His lawyers made sure to secure everything. Not a single penny was given to her mother. In addition, Jimmy engaged in a smear campaign that resulted in her mother's small restaurant going out of business. Now broke and jobless, she was forced to return to the north where most of the other Crystals still lived. Porsha remembered being at the bus terminal, not knowing exactly why her mother had to leave, only that she had to. She remembered the oily tears she shed running down her mother's piñatex jacket as they hugged for the last time. Although it was ages ago and Porsha had few memories of her mother unfragmented, that particular rainy day stuck with her. The one who used to tuck her in bed, tell her stories, and tickle her until she puked her french toast was suddenly gone. Porsha's sadness was brief though. For weeks afterward, her father took her to countless amusement parks, malls, and VIP sections of any kid-friendly concert she wanted to go to. Jimmy didn't allow another tear to fall until the strings he pulled began to wear out. Meanwhile, all her mother's belongings were sold at auction, including every pot she filled with chrysanthemums, every skirted drape with hand-weaved fringes, and every oil painting of boreal landscapes. As the pup buried herself under a mountain of teddy bears she obtained after her father bribed the ring toss game attendants, she was unaware that her mother was being erased from her life. Soon, it was as if she never existed.

"We've arrived, ma'am," informed the chauffeur who was a beaver.

"Thank you," said Porsha. "Oh, by the way, Suki says I'm supposed to give ya money or somethin'."

"You mean a tip?"

"Oh, yes! I remember! That's what it's called!"

"Oh, umm... That would be nice, ma'am. Umm... I've never been tipped before."

"Here. Getcha somethin' cool to wear. That suit makes me think I'm riding in one of those cars that carry the dead." The wolf extended her arm through the square-shaped hole in the wall between the driver and the rest of the interior. What the beaver received made him do a double take.

"Um, ma'am, did you just give me your credit card?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Usually, when you tip someone, you give them actual money," he replied.

"Whatchu mean?"

"You know... like dollar bills."

"Ohhhhh! You want those green paper thingies! Yeah, I don't have any of that. But, hey, will this do?" Porsha reached into her orange purse and handed him a solid block of 24-karat gold.

"What?! You're giving me this?!" he exclaimed.

"Ah-huh."

"I don't know what to say... You had this sitting in your purse?!"

"My dad always said to keep somethin' on ya for emergencies."

"YAHOO!" the beaver shouted joyfully.

The limo skidded toward the gate where the paparazzi had gathered, taking as many pictures as they could of Porsha proceeding up the marble steps. In the middle of the crowd, however, there were two animals not taking pictures, a spotted hyena and a vole perched on her left shoulder.

"I told ya, Dixon! It's her that I met. I wouldn't have had us follow her if I wasn't sure. I know how much you hate this neighborhood."

"Neighborhood? No, the super rich live on another planet compared to the slums where we grew up," Dixon replied. "Look at this place, Angel. It's a palace! And only one animal lives there... and it's not even her only house! You're right... I can't stand this district, but at least it serves as a reminder of why we do what we do."

"That it does," the hyena agreed, gripping the golden scrolls of the fence. "Today's the day we begin to make it right for our families. Porsha is our greatest opportunity. With her dad gone, she's vulnerable. Billions of dollars, Dixon. That's what we're talking about."

"But how will you do it? How will you get her alone?"

"Need I remind you how rich kids are? They've never known struggle in their entire life. They're as dumb as a rock. Porsha... well... she's the type to throw a rock at the ground and miss. It honestly won't be hard. She might be dumb enough to hand her credit card directly to me! Ha, ha!"

The hyena and the vole snorted with laughter. Meanwhile, inside the house, Porsha strode across the ballroom. A chimp standing on the highest step of a ladder was busy polishing the prisms of one of the many gigantic chandeliers. There were also chandeliers in every corridor, including the largest one with its rib vault ceiling. Porsha walked to the end then she made her up to the third floor using the grand bifurcated staircase. She headed for her bedroom. There, an elderly sheep was on her knees waxing the hardwood floor by hand.

"Porsha, dear! You're back so soon! Uh, I apologize for not finishing in time."

"No, Ms. Hampton, it's okay! I just came to get a few things."

The wolf grabbed the sheep's waist as she struggled to stand. Porsha then turned to head for her closet when a shaky hand gripped her blue Clay Calloway shirt. "No need to help me, dear. I was in my sixties when I chased you around this place. Remember that?"

"Yeah, I do," Porsha replied, blushing slightly.

"If my knees were gonna go out, they would've then." The sheep readjusted her glasses. Porsha entered her closet and quickly found what she was looking for. Using all of her strength, she pulled it out from underneath a pile of sneakers. "Good heavens, Porsha. What are you straining yourself for?"

The wolf placed her hands on her thighs and lowered her head, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. She panted for a good minute. "Whew! I think I lost a few pounds."

"I don't think you have pounds to lose, dear," the sheep muttered. "What's in there?" she asked curiously.

"My mom... I think. The chest was hers, but I never opened it. Daddy doesn't know I have this." Porsha unhooked the latches and opened the chest slowly for a second before dropping it shut. "Maybe I shouldn't. I mean, I saw in a scary movie once this slug monstah that hides in the shadows. It could be waitin' to grab its next victim!"

"What a bunch of hogwash," Ms. Hampton dismissed. "Just open it, dear. I'll protect you with my wax brush."

Porsha lifted the lid all the way, and with one eye, peeked inside. Porsha's hands shook. The french toast she ate earlier flooded her throat. "EWW! It's cat throw-up!" she exclaimed after re-swallowing.

"What? No, Porsha, these are yarns!"

"Yarns?" The wolf tilted her head sideways.

Ms. Hampton poked one of the balls with her index finger. "As a Suffolk, I know the difference between wool and cat hair."

"What... W-what are they for?" the wolf stammered.

"Knitting, of course."

"What's that?"

"You use these two needles, see, to make fabrics out of the yarn. Look, there's an incomplete scarf in here."

"A scarf? Why would there be a scarf when it's always a kajillion degrees outside?"

"Your mother's from the north, isn't she?"

"Ya right!" Porsha exclaimed.

"Oh, Porsha, I don't think you fully realize how special this stuff is! This is your mother right here. At least it was."

"That's what I hoped." Porsha then noticed a shiny plastic strip sticking out between a blue and white yarn. The wolf was trained since birth to spot anything shiny. She pulled it out, revealing that it was a photograph of her father and another wolf. Jimmy's left arm wrapped around the shoulders of a female who was clearly pregnant. Both of them wore formal attire while an absurd amount of confetti rained behind them.

"Would you look at that! It's their baby shower!" Ms. Hampton informed. "Oh, your dad was quite the catch. He used to be such a gentleman. I can't remember the last time he wore a bowtie."

"Wait, so this female wolf is my mom?"

"Mh-hmm! You don't recognize her?"

"It's been so long... She... She looks so beautiful." Porsha's ears flattened.

"Oh, come here, little bug." The two animals hugged softly. "I'm sure she misses you and can't wait to see you again someday."

"Well... that's why I'm here actually... for the last time."

"What do you mean?"

"The stress had been too much. I'm gonna leave Redshore... and stay with Mommy... And now I have this pic I can use to find her!"

"Leave Redshore? By yourself?"

"I don't need anyone else. I'm an adult," she asserted. "Daddy thinks I can't handle things on my own. I'm gonna prove him wrong."

"Ooo, my little Porsha's all grown up!" The sheep sniffed as she held back her tears of joy. "Your mother was so nice to us, and of course, you've been the absolute delight of our jobs. No matter how many times you've frustrated us over the years, this house won't be the same without you. It was a pleasure, Porsha. Truly, I mean that."

"Aww, wow... that means a lot, Ms. Hampton... You're the best servant any house could have... which is why this one will be yours."

"What?" Ms. Hampton became dumbstruck. Porsha pulled out a large golden key from her purse.

"Go ahead. Take it."

"I... I... can't believe it... You're really going to give me Wolfington?

"Yep!"

"But I'm not a wolf!"

"So? You can rename it Sheepington!"

The ewe collapsed. Porsha caught her in the nick of time. "Oh, my... Bless my old heart. I think almost fainted."

"You did almost faint, but I saved you! Hee, hee!"

"This is such an honor... Why, Porsha? Why?"

"When I was tourin' with Buster Moon, I learned that I could be something more, something that can give animals so much joy! All Daddy does is take take take, so I thought to myself... What if I just give give give? I can't exactly explain it. Giving just makes me feel good!"


Trivia: The proper noun "Adaven" is Nevada spelled backward. This is supposed to fit the theme of Redshore City being inspired by Las Vegas.

(This was written from November 4th to November 20th, 2022)