Judy eventually found herself atop a very familiar hill. She didn't remember how she got here (she had simply been wandering after leaving Mandy and her family's booth), but eventually she stopped at a hill overlooking the rodeo grounds. The grounds were several miles outside the city limit to ensure there would be enough room to accommodate all the participants and spectators that always showed up.
When she was younger, and needed some time to herself, Judy loved to come up here and watch the world go by, or, as was the case today, watch them set up for the event—which is what they were doing now. The fall rodeo was starting this Friday and her family was hosting it this year, so her parents and a large number of her siblings and cousins were down there setting up the rows and rows of extra metal bleachers to add to the permanent white wooden bleachers that made up the stands alongside the judges' booth and the commentator's office that overlooked the large, sand-covered arena.
She had spent a lot of time there in the stands when she was in elementary and middle school, cheering for the riders of the dangerous cassowary riding, gasping along with everyone else when the rider was bucked off and the rodeo clowns had to come out and distract the vengeful bird long enough for the rider to escape to safety (and then making a mad dash to safety themselves while the larger predators wrangled the bird back into the pen).
As exciting as the cassowary riding was, her favorite event was the barrel racing. It wasn't as dangerous, but it did require a high level of technical skill and timing, as well as a strong bond with your bird. Emus and rheas were the favorites, but the youngsters and prairie dogs had their own barrel racing event that allowed them to ride dodos. For their much smaller size (compared to rheas and emus), dodos were quite the speedy, little demons.
With a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as her mind skipped down memory lane, Judy then turned her attention back to the rodeo grounds as her siblings and cousins scrambled here and there, with some climbing over equipment and others scaling ladders, in their rush to set everything up on time. Watching her family erect all the colorful booths (orange, pink, and yellow being the main colors, but a few of the booths sported blues, greens, and lavender) for the games and food stalls, Judy recalled all the fun she had back when she was still a kit and looking at the world through rose colored glasses. Not even Gideon and his claws had knocked her 'glasses' off back then, and nothing since had rattled her belief that she could do anything and be anything. Mammals knocked her down and she got right back up. They said she couldn't, and she proved she could.
And once she arrived at the city, she didn't let anything set her back, no matter how hopeless it sometimes seemed. And when she met Nick, she tried all the harder to prove she was more than a 'carrot farming dumb bunny' as she'd been called all those years ago. Maybe her encounter with Gideon played a bigger role in her actions with Nick than she'd first thought. Was Gideon's words still haunting her after all this time? Is that why she dragged Nick all over Zootopia in her quest to find her missing otter? She shouldn't have. He was a civilian, and not even her C.I. so protocol said she should have cut him loose after she got her lead from him.
But she couldn't let him go. She dangled a carrot pen over his nose and made him follow her (which, she realized, he could have stolen the pen at any time and disappeared into the city—but he didn't). And she couldn't deny how good it felt to finally have someone there helping her, even if it was reluctantly at first. Life was finally looking up for her, and she had Nick largely to thank for it. But then she had to open her big and spout off all that specist nonsense that had no bearing on reality.
Yes, predators were the only ones going savage, but after some time to think about it, her excuse (the same one the badger doctor had used) couldn't possibly be correct. Manchas had been completely sane when he answered the door. He wasn't even acting predatory at the time. In fact, his scared and timid actions, along with his soft-spoken words, reminded her more of a rabbit than a jaguar.
One minute he was rational and talking calmly, and then bam, he was trying to eat them. It was like someone flipped a switch on in his brain. Or maybe turned one off—the switch that dealt with higher thinking and civilized behavior. If he was actually reverting back to his ancestral savage ways as she'd claimed, it would have been a gradual process happening over months or years—not seconds. It took centuries to evolve into the civilized mammals that they were, and it would be biologically impossible for them to naturally revert back at the drop of a hat—or the unlocking of a door as was the case for Manchas.
She didn't know why Manchas or any of the other predators lost their sanity like they did, but because of her stupid little speech no one was even looking for the real cause! They took her misguided, small-minded, specist words as facts and had given up looking for any other cause! It made her sick inside and her heart ached even worse. Instead of making the world a better place, she had destroyed it.
Staring down at her feet, Judy rubbed her toes into the thick prairie grass that grew up here on the hill. Life had been so much simpler back before she got her badge. Back before she ruined everything. Lifting her gaze, she glanced back at the sky as the sun continued its trek towards the horizon.
Avoiding the painful memories, Judy turned her attention to the rodeo arena. In the next day or two, they'd be adding more sand to it and then raking it up and smoothing it out. The sandy floor needed to be thick and soft for the events.
Picking some long grassy leaves, she tore them up and picked some more as she considered all the good memories of her time there in the arena. She hadn't been to the rodeo in years, not with her college studies and preparing for the police academy to attend to, but now she didn't have anything holding her back. She might even go this year. But then again, she might not. The only mammal she wanted to go with hated her guts and probably wouldn't be caught dead in a rodeo put on by a bunch of small-town hicks.
Drawing her knees up and hugging them, Judy rested her cheeks on her knees as she stared off over the green fields with their rows of various vegetables, the tall, leafy trees that were planted between the fields as windbreakers, and then at the puffy white clouds that were drifting by as they skimmed over the horizon. She had never lived with regret before and she found the taste quite nauseating. Her dreams were within her grasp, but then she'd gone and been a dumb bunny in front of the whole city. Her dream of being a big city cop was like a beautiful firework—it lit up the sky with its brilliance and splendor, then died just as quickly, leaving darkness in its wake.
And her friendship with Nick—it was the first time she'd ever connected with anyone like she had with him. Being a rabbit who aspired to be a big city cop, it sometimes felt like she was trying to row up a roaring river without a paddle as she was fighting against every stereotype they had about rabbits—stereotypes most rabbits clung to! It had been so aggravating growing up when so many rabbits embraced the stereotype of being cute and timid! Which made her the odd rabbit out most of the time, and even an ugly duckling at times. To a rabbit—a doe with soft curves was highly sought after, not the hard, muscular body she had spent hours developing. Most rabbits, does and bucks alike, thought it was pointless and a waste of time as they didn't believe she could make it with the big mammals on the police force.
Of course, if she was working hard as an athlete, and was on one of the teams (football, soccer, baseball, track, rugby—any one would do), she would have been accepted with open arms (though even then, the does still maintained a little softness to their curves, unlike her). But no, she wanted to be a cop and work with the big mammals—to prove she was as tough as they were. Which made her the laughingstock a lot of the time. And when mammals weren't laughing, they were trying to convince her to quit, to settle, and stop trying to be more than a rabbit—more than a carrot farming, dumb bunny as Gideon had so eloquently put it back when he'd clawed her.
But with Nick (after he stopped being jerk and started working with her) it was different. For the first time in a very long time, she felt like she could just be herself, that the fact she was a rabbit really didn't matter. He never once tried to talk her out of being a cop (he did tease her about being a meter maid, but he never told her to quit) and he was even going to be her partner on the force. And then she went and destroyed what they had by living up to the typical rabbit stereotype of being a dumb, timid bunny who didn't trust predators. And then she went and showed him how much she didn't trust him by threatening to mace him!
Sucking in a stuttering breath, Judy rubbed the heels of her palms across her eyes as a few stray tears slipped down her cheek. She refused to cry (she had done enough of that this morning). No matter how much it hurt, she couldn't change the past. All she could do was somehow deal with the present. Taking another deep breath, she looked up at the white jet streaks in the sky that were turning a brilliant shade of orange with the setting sun, then glanced back down at the rodeo grounds.
With a sigh, she pushed the negative thoughts down and tried to picture what Nick would look like in blue jeans, a cowboy shirt, and a cowboy hat. She first tried to imagine him in a white cowboy hat, but immediately scrapped that idea. With his orange fur and green eyes, a black Stetson was the only way to go.
As the floodlights were turned on down at the rodeo grounds to dispel the darkness that began gathering as the sun dipped below the horizon, she tried to imagine Nick riding one of the Island emus her family owned. Would he, perhaps, ride with her? She used to do barrel racing when she was in high school. She didn't have as much time to put into practicing as the others who competed, but she enjoyed it as a nice break from her studies. Her last year competing she even won 3rd place—which surprised everyone since she hardly practiced at all that year, what with her trying get top grades in order to get into a good college while she was also volunteering at the sheriff's office to earn some experience.
Standing up, Judy turned back towards the burrow and made her way home while trying not to think about the conversation she'd had with her sister earlier. But no matter how much she tried to refute it, she couldn't deny the things Mandy had alleged.
And so she had wandered. She had wandered the fields and countryside all afternoon trying to come up with another reason why she was so depressed and heartbroken over her and Nick's fight—to no avail. No matter which angle she viewed the fight from, or her own feelings that had been festering since, she could think of no other reason why her heart bled every time she thought of Nick and how she might never see him again. And so she stopped trying and decided to face the truth. That her feelings for the sly todd went way beyond simple friendship. No, she, Judith Laverne Hopps, was in love with a fox.
It wasn't enough for her to be the first rabbit officer of the ZPD and show up every other officer in the city by finding all the missing mammals in only 2 days without resources. Of course, that wasn't enough. No, she had to go and vilify every predator in the city, and in the process, she went and fell in love with one of them! As if she wasn't infamous enough already. If the news outlets caught wind of the fact she wanted to snuggle with one of the predators she had vilified, she could kiss her peaceful life goodbye. Of course, if it meant she could have Nick back, she might not mind kissing her peaceful life goodbye. With Nick, she had felt like she could be anything and do anything (without half the struggle she'd felt while trying to go it alone). And she wished she could have that back, even if all they had together was friendship (no matter how much her heart wished for more).
Mandy was right: Nick fit all her requirements for the perfect mate. He was funny, strong, supportive, trustworthy—and wasn't scared off by her crazy, enthusiastic ideas. And yet, how did she repay him? She treated him the way her dad had raised her to—that all foxes were untrustworthy predators who wouldn't hesitate to hurt a rabbit. That it was in their biology to hurt and maim.
Wiping a paw down her face, and then rubbing her forehead as she neared some of her family's barns, her thoughts continued chasing their own tails concerning her feelings (and actions) towards Nick.
She couldn't understand what made her think Nick would—or could—hurt her (regardless of her father's teachings). Yes, he bared his teeth and claws at her—but what made her think he'd actually hurt her? He had risked his life to save her, stood up to her boss for her, snuck into an asylum past a pack of armed wolves (he even let her flush him down the toilet!), and in all that time he never once—not once—ever do anything to make her feel afraid of him, or that the thought of hurting her ever crossed his mind. He'd worried about her, supported her, believed in her, stood up for her, and trusted her. He was even willing to turn his life around just so he could continue supporting her as her partner on the force while sharing her dream (no one had ever wanted to share her dream before).
Reaching the barn where they kept their birds, Judy gripped the door handle, then leaned against the door's rough wood while lightly banging her head against it. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. I have to be the dumbest bunny on the planet and the worst friend ever." Turning around she leaned her back against the barn door and fought back tears while staring up at the twinkling stars that had appeared in the darkening sky. The moon was out, too, but was shining brightly on the other side of the barn, which blocked it from view.
Wiping a paw across her eyes, she whispered, "Why did I have to treat Nick like that?" With a sob, she leaned over slightly and gripped her heart. "He was perfect for me, and I . . . I stabbed him in the back." She still wasn't sure Nick would have seen her as anything more than a friend, but he had stopped treating her differently, as if he no longer saw her as prey or a rabbit. Just as she'd stopped seeing Nick as just another fox—or even a predator—it had felt like Nick had stopped treating her like she was different from him.
It took her a while for her silent tears to dry up, but when they did, she still didn't feel like dealing with her large, noisy, nosy family. She had missed dinner some time ago but wasn't hungry, so she turned around and slipped into the barn, hoping the birds would calm her as they had when she was younger.
After flipping on the lights, she walked over to the large stalls where the dodos were kept. Leaning over the stall door, she watched the older light gray and white birds snooze while a few of the darker-colored younger birds chirped and pecked around the sawdust-strewn floor while looking for some missed fruit. There were about 2 dozen adults and half that many chicks of different ages. Her great-great grandparents used to have several dozen birds back before tractors were developed and they were still relying on the birds for ploughing the fields and pulling the wagons full of produce.
The dodos were also the perfect size for riding and were strong runners with their thick legs and streamlined bodies, though they had to be kept on a strict diet of fruit, roots, and leaves, otherwise they easily became fat and lazy. With the invention of the tractors, the dodos were now used in 4-H by the teens, ridden in some of the rodeo competitions or in parades, or used for pleasure riding. They also teamed them up to do wagon rides. Many of the poorer farmers still used the birds for ploughing and hauling produce, but they were now a dying breed as machines took over tasks that were traditionally accomplished by the thick-legged birds.
In addition to the dodos, they also had several Lesser rheas used for riding and racing (one of which she used while barrel racing in high school), along with a few Island Emus which were used for the same reason (she now preferred the emus as they had more stamina than the rheas). They even had a few hackney carriages they could hook the emus or rheas to and go for a jaunt down the country lanes.
While thinking about the much happier memories of her earlier days, Judy decided it was high time she rode again. She still had thoughts of Nick running through her head and she hoped a nice ride might finally clear her mind. Grabbing a bridle while walking down to the stall holding the male emus, she opened the stall door and slipped inside. Some of the emus were standing while others were already laying down. Talking softly to the birds so as not to startle them, she made her way to one of the laying down ones (which put its head at her level). If her memory served her right, the emu was named Billy-bob (her brother was being a dork when he named it) and as she reached it, she ran her paw over its darkly-feathered head and down its blue-leathery neck, its neck being lightly covered by soft, black feathers. As the bird leaned into her paw, she smiled, then slipped the bridle over its beak.
After buckling it on, she whispered softly to the large bird and tugged on the reins. It took a couple of tugs and some encouragement, but then Billy-bob stood and shook out its shaggy, dark-brown feathers. Judy quickly led it from the stall, made sure the door was closed securely, then brought her mount over to the tack room where the saddles were kept. Looping the reins around the hitching post, Judy entered the tack room and flicked on the light, then looked around until she found the saddle she used back in high school. After dusting it off, she brought it out and threw it over the emu's back.
Billy-bob was an older bird and was well trained, so he didn't fight her about getting saddled. After leading him to the barn door, they slipped out and then closed the door. Putting her foot into the stirrup, she swung into the saddle and turned Billy-bob's head towards the road. As she was riding out, someone hollered from the back porch. Judy turned the emu towards the house and road over to see her brother standing there in shock at seeing her.
"Hey, Mark, did you need something?"
"Judy?" the dark-chocolate buck asked incredulously.
Grinning, Judy replied, "Yep, it's me."
"You're actually riding?" He glanced up at the darkening sky and bright moonlight, then back at his sister. "At night!?"
Judy laughed. "What, you don't think I'm scared of a few shadows, do you?" Although rabbits had terrible night vision, the moon was nearly full which shed plenty of light to make out the road. Of course, she wouldn't trust herself to ride across the fields, but there was nothing in the road to trip her or Billy-bob up.
As Mark continued giving her a weird look, she added, "Come on, you know I used to go night riding all the time back in high school. So, what's the problem now?"
Mark shook his head. "Whatever you say, sis."
Judy grinned at him (and actually felt somewhat happy for the first time in months), then said, "If anybody asks, I'll be back later." As she turned Billy-bob around, she waved back at her brother and said, "Tell mom and dad not to wait up for me."
"You know mom's going to be waiting up no matter what you say." Judy laughed again and Mark shook his head one last time. His sister had been depressed for more than a month now, so to see her laughing while going on a night ride was hard to imagine. He just hoped she stuck to the roads and nothing happened to her. Mom and dad were worried enough about her without her going out and getting herself hurt riding in the dark. At least, Billy-bob was a dependable mount and didn't spook easily.
Rubbing a dark paw over his head and down the back of his neck, Mark turned and headed back inside while wondering if his sister's good mood would last.
….….
Nick stood outside the back door of the bakery with a light breeze ruffling his fur as the sliver of light from the cracked door highlighted a vertical line of orange fur and blue shirt, while leaving rest in gloomy darkness (the building blocked the moonlight, leaving the back door in dark shadows). Meeting his fellow fox's fearful expression, Nick held up his paws and said calmly, "I'm not here to pick a fight."
Gideon's ears perked up a bit as he said through the crack in the door, "You're not?" He was still skeptical about the other todd's reason for being here.
Nick shook his head with his ears relaxed. "I need your help." The breeze blew a little harder and kicked up some of the dirt and leaves laying on the ground. Flicking his tail up, Nick tried to keep the worst of the dirt from lodging in his fur.
Gideon's ears immediately pricked forward, and he opened the door a little wider. "You do?"
Nick nodded and said, "I need to talk to Judy. Seeing as the Hopps aren't very welcoming to strange predators, Saline said you would be my best bet."
Chuckling, Gideon snorted and said, "Ain't that the truth." Opening the door a bit wider, he paused and then asked, "You sure you ain't here to beat me up?" Waking up in an ICU room at the hospital wasn't how he wanted his night to go—or the coming days.
Nick shook his head again, then ran a paw down the back of his neck as he looked off to the side. "I won't lie and say the thought didn't cross my mind earlier," Nick began, then glanced back to meet Gideon's worried, light-blue eyes, and added, "But you were a jerk to Judy when you were both kits. I was a jerk to Judy just four months ago, so I unless I want to beat myself up first—I really don't have any call to hurt you." With a slight grin and head tilt, Nick added, "Besides, that's between you and Judy, so if she wants to beat you up," he held his paws up, "that's her prerogative."
Gideon's grin returned, and he said, "Ah, shucks, I, I met Judy a month ago and apologized. She didn't hold it against me or nothin." Opening the door all the way, he stood back and said, "Come on in."
Nick didn't hesitate to enter and then followed Gideon to the long table that split the bakery's large-sized kitchen in half. The room had a high ceiling and the floor had white and blue tiles wet in a checker-board pattern. Setting up to one of the dark, wooden chairs, he pulled it out to sit, then looked up and asked, "I . . . don't suppose you still have the other half of my pie lying around . . . do you?" At Gideon's ear flick, Nick elaborated, "I . . . kinda missed dinner and now I'm starving."
"Well, we can't have that, Nick. Hows about a turkey sandwich first?"
Nick's ears immediately perked up. "Turkey? You have turkey?" Although they sold turkey and chicken in the city, it was extremely expensive which meant he usually stuck with bug products or seafood.
"Well, yeah," Gideon said, "You can buy all kinds of turkey products here in town."
Nick's tail wagged as he licked his chops and watched Gideon pull out the ingredients for his sandwich from the large, silver walk-in fridge: sliced turkey, dark leafy lettuce, a tomato, pickles, and several slices of cheddar cheese, along with miracle whip and mustard.
Glancing over his shoulder at Nick, Gideon asked, "Don't they have turkey in Zootopia?"
Nick flicked his ear. "They do, but it's really expensive. Unless you have connections, it's hard for us foxes to come by the good stuff."
Gideon nodded in understanding as he fixed Nick's sandwich. "Well, it wasn't always so easy to buy it out here, but back in my grandpappy's day, several turkey farms were opened up between Bunnyburrow and Deer Hollow. And there are several chicken farms outside of Elk Meadow."
"You don't say?" Nick murmured. Gideon pawed him the sandwich a minute later and he took a huge bite. "Hmmm," he groaned in utter bliss as he died and went to heaven (it had been a long time since he'd had turkey—and never any this good or fresh). After swallowing his bite, he wiped his mouth and glanced up at Gideon, saying, "I have to say, Gid, I've eaten at some of the best restaurants in Zootopia, but nothing they got comes even close to what you guys have here." Motioning to the sandwich, and then the baked goods in the other room, he said, "This sandwich, your pies, the food I ate over at Grandma Hopps' diner—nothing in Zootopia can compare to the food out here."
Gideon's tail began wagging at the huge compliment and he and Nick spent the next hour talking about food and comparing the differences between packaged city food and fresh country food. Gideon even brought out a peach cobbler he'd baked earlier and the two split it for dessert. As the evening progressed, Gid realized he found a kindred spirit in the red todd across from him. Being both red foxes, they had more in common than most other mammals, and with them both being picked on and bullied when they were younger, it was nice to finally meet another mammal who could empathize with him on such a deep, personal level.
Leaning back in his chair and patting his now very round belly, Nick tilted his head back and closed his eyes while grinning. "Gid, I'm going to get fat if I keep eating here."
Gideon merely laughed while glancing over the tall, lean form of his new friend. "If ya ask me, you could stand to put on a few pounds, Nick."
Nick shook his head without lifting his head or opening his eyes. "I'm an Animalia Red Fox—we're supposed to be tall and skinny." Motioning towards Gideon with his head still resting against the back of the chair, he continued, "You obviously descended from the Europaw Red Foxes—you're supposed to be short and stout."
"I guess," Gideon murmured while scratching his neck. He hadn't done the greatest in school, even without the bullying, so he hadn't heard about there being two different red fox breeds. Back here in the country, red foxes were just red foxes. Studying the red fox across from him as he sprawled back in the chair, it was obvious to Gideon that Nick was much smarter than himself and if not for the bullying, he probably would've graduated high school as an honor student. It was a shame that no one gave him a chance for no other reason than he was a fox.
With a grin, Nick sat up and leaned over the table and pointed to Gideon, saying, "Besides, how am I supposed to keep up with Fluff when I find her if I let you fatten me up?"
Gideon cocked his head as his bushy tail swayed slowly behind him. "Fluff?"
Nick nodded eagerly and answered, "Judy. Fluff is one of my nicknames for her."
"She lets you call her names?" Growing up, he knew Judy didn't like being called different names (not that it stopped her siblings or the kits at school). Her dad and siblings liked to call her Jude the Dude, which she disliked as it made her seem more tomboyish than she already was. And the few times she actually was interested in something girly, her sisters teased her about the sudden interest and how it didn't suit her. She grumbled about it, but since her dad was the one who started it, she kept her grumblings to a minimum.
In middle school and high school, a lot of kits called her Jude the Prude because she liked to dress conservatively and wasn't into the whole dating craze. Nor did she hide the fact that she felt bucks were a waste of her time or a distraction from her goal of becoming a cop. This led to a lot of bunnies calling her Prickly Pear, the Bunnyburrow Ice Queen, Crazy Jude, or Lame-brain Judy the Wanna-be Cop.
She didn't particularly like the Prickly Pear name, but she couldn't deny that when it came to dealing with other rabbits, she became a bit stiff and terse with them. She actually got along better with other mammals than rabbits as they didn't have the same expectations of her. Crazy Jude and Lame-brain Judy irritated her the most and she got into quite a few scuffles in middle school over those two. By high school, most rabbits had learned not to call her these particular names within hearing distance (even if they were thinking it more than ever). The only name Judy didn't mind was the Bunnyburrow Ice Queen. In fact, she embraced the Ice Queen nickname and wasn't above busting noses when bucks tried getting pawsy with her.
Thinking about Judy in middle school and high school, Gideon realized they had a lot in common. He had been feeling guilty about clawing Judy ever since he started attending his therapy sessions, but now, he realized that if he hadn't been such a mess of angry nerves and low self-esteem when he was younger, he and Judy might have become good friends.
With a heavy sigh, he stared at the blue and white glazed tiles that covered the floor, even as his tail slumped in regret. There were so many things he wished he could do over in his life—and treating Judy a lot better when he was younger was at the top of his list.
Nick shrugged as he looked towards the darkened window while thinking of his time with Judy. "She didn't like it at first, but after our wild otter chase it just became habit. She stopped complaining about them and now answers them readily enough, so I assume she likes them now." With another wide grin, he turned his gaze back to Gideon and swiped a paw through the air as he added, "Trust me when I say, Judy has no problems letting me know when I'm bugging her."
Gideon nodded with an ear flick, then asked, "And you want me to help you talk to her?" Although Judy had forgiven him, he didn't feel that a simple 'I'm sorry' was good enough for what he'd done to her while they were kits, so if he could help her reconnect with Nick, then maybe he could redeem himself—at least a little bit.
Nodding, Nick explained, "Saline said you deliver pies to her family's roadside booth and that she sometimes works there during the day."
"Well, ya, she was manning the booth today," (Nick immediately perked up), "but I doubt she'll be back this week."
Nick's ears folded back. "Huh? Why?"
Gideon shrugged. "She only comes out ta the booth about once a week."
"Oh." Nick's tail slumped to the floor and he deflated a bit. He had arrived a day late—talk about bad luck!
"I, I can take you out there in the morning and you can talk to whoever is there at the booth, maybe give them a message to pass on to Judy."
Nick nodded but wasn't excited by the prospect. "I don't suppose you could drive me out to her place and introduce me?"
Gideon's ears immediately flattened against his head. "If her mom, Bonnie, was going to be there I could, but she and Stu are out at the rodeo grounds setting everything up for this Friday." Looking at the ground, Gideon fidgeted with his paws a moment, then said quietly, "Most of Judy's siblings don't like me and, well, the Hopps clan is well-known for having mammals arrested for trespassing."
Nick's ears disappeared behind his head and his jaw dropped with a look of horror. Snapping his mouth shut with a clack of sharp teeth even as his tail-tip twitched anxiously, he stated, "When you say mammals . . . you mean predators, don't you?"
Gideon gave a slight nod. "Most of the time, yeah. So, unless Judy is above ground when we arrive, her siblings might call the sheriff on ya."
Nick dropped one arm on the table while raising his other paw and resting his elbow on the table then dropping his forehead in his open palm. Raking his claws through his head fur, he looked back up and asked in a dismal voice, "Judy's siblings aren't very likely to pass a message along, are they?"
Flicking an ear, Gideon said, "Depends on who ya talk to and whether or not they see you as a threat."
"A threat?" Nick's ears folded back again as he was starting feel like the Junior Rangers Scouts' meeting all over again.
Gideon nodded. "I, I didn't give them the best impression of foxes." At Nick's nod, Gideon added, "You're also from the city and Judy came back from the city all depressed."
Nick nodded again. "They'll probably assume I'm part of the problem." And they wouldn't be completely wrong, he thought as a wave of guilt hit him like a tsunami. He knew that Judy would have survived the city a lot better if he hadn't walked out on her. She might even still be a cop, who knew? And even if she still felt the need to turn in her badge when Bellwether wanted to make her the poster kit of the ZPD, she wouldn't have needed to come home alone and depressed. He could have come back with her. And even if she didn't want him to stay (though he hoped she would), he could have at least escorted her home and made her homecoming a little more bearable. And—he wouldn't be sitting here now trying to figure out how to get a hold of her without winding up in a jail cell. Nick's ears folded back and his tail slumped to the ground as he realized just how much of the problem he really was.
Gideon didn't answer, but after a moment, he said, "If you stick around for the rodeo that opens Friday afternoon, I'm sure her siblings will drag her out to it."
Nick's ears immediately perked up and his tail began wagging. "You guys are having a rodeo? A real rodeo? With cassowary riding and rodeo clowns—the whole nine yards?"
Gideon grinned. "Well, shucks, Nick, you can't have a rodeo without the cassowary riding!" Slapping the table, he added, "That's what makes a rodeo a rodeo!"
"But they're like the deadliest birds on the planet! Aren't the riders afraid of getting kicked to death or their eyes pecked out after getting bucked off!?"
Gideon shrugged. "I guess that's the thrill—coming that close to death and yet walking away." With a tail wag and perked up ears, he added, "Besides, the winner's cup comes with a heavy chunk of change."
Nick nodded, but still looked skeptical. "I'll take your word for it." He had done some risky things in his past—selling Mr. Big that stupid rug being the top one—but riding an angry cassowary in a rodeo just seemed suicidal. He valued his life and all his body parts too much to take that kind of risk.
Gideon chuckled. "Come on, you might actually have some fun." Although he had never participated in any of the events, Gideon always enjoyed going and watching the skills of those who did. And now that he had his bakery up and running, he had already signed up to run a pastry booth this year. Since the bakery hadn't been running in full swing until this month, Gideon had signed up late, which meant he couldn't get the most ideal location (his spot was way in the back and far from any picnic tables). But he still hoped to do some good advertising, and next year, he hoped to get a slot with a view of the arena. That way his customers could still glimpse what was happening as they bought their sugary treats.
Nick tilted his head as he studied the round fox across from him. He had never considered attending a rodeo before, but Gideon's enthusiasm was starting to affect him because he was actually considering it. But no matter how enjoyable it was, he knew it would only be half as much fun if a certain somebunny didn't show up. "And you're sure Judy will be there?"
"The rodeo lasts for a week, so I can almost guarantee she'll come—whether she wants to or not." At Nick's questioning look, Gideon elaborated, "Like I said—her siblings will drag her there at some point. Her parents are really pushing her to get out the burrow in the hopes she'll get over depression." With his face brightening, he added, "Here's somethin' about Judy you probably didn't know—she used to barrel race a rhea in high school. Even got third place her senior year."
Nick's ears perked up. "Barrel racing? What's that? And are rheas the only birds used in the event or can you ride some of the others?" He knew cassowary riding was the main event of rodeos, but he didn't know anything about the other events. Rodeos weren't exactly big events in Zootopia. Instead, bird racing was huge as there were several racetracks and arenas up in the Meadowlands where road runners, rheas, emus, and ostriches were raced. And down in Sahara Square there was a huge track where the Zootopia Derby was held each year. Ostrich riders from all over the country would come to race, with the stakes reaching astronomical numbers when it came to the bets.
That was another risky venture he'd tried—and failed—when he was nineteen. The memory of the loan sharks chasing him through the back allies and sewers of Zootopia still sent a chill down his spine and tail, especially since they wanted his tail—literally—as payment when he came up short. Lucky, he hadn't had a lot of money to bet and so he was able to pay it back—eventually. But the nightmares of that time still sometimes haunted him and had him looking over his shoulder more than normal for a city fox.
Gideon waved his paws through the air. "Besides the cassowary riding, barrel racing is one of the other main events at the rodeos." With his tail wagging excitedly behind him, Gideon grinned widely as he tilted his head in thought and explained, "Usually Lesser rheas or one of the Island emus are ridden by the rabbits and slightly bigger mammals, with the larger mammals riding the Greater rheas and the Mainland or Tasmanian emus. Judy was riding a Lesser rhea, which are really fast and can turn on a dime, but they don't have much stamina. Emus are better if'n ya have a long way ta go and a short time ta get there." Shaking his head, he turned his focus back to Nick. "In barrel racing, three barrels are set up in a triangular pattern and the riders have ta sprint their birds towards them, and then race in and around them. The closer ta the barrels ya get, the better the time, and the ones with the fastest time win."
Nick flicked an ear and his tail swayed behind him as he tried to picture Judy racing one of the birds around the barrels. He still had a hard time picturing Judy as anything but a cop, but he could see the appeal she found in racing. With her speed and agility, riding a bird in an event that also required speed and agility suited her. Meeting Gideon's blue-eyed gaze, he asked, "And Judy won 3rd place?"
Gideon nodded as he wagged his finger at Nick. "Ya, and it's funny, too, 'cause she was too busy study'n to do much practicin, but still won."
Nick's tail wagged a little faster as he pictured Judy winning a medal even though she was being too much of a bookworm to practice. With a grin spreading across his face, Nick asked, "And what other events are there?" He was suddenly finding himself very interested in the rodeo—especially if he was able to attend it with Judy. That thought had his grin spreading across his whole face as his green eyes brightened with excitement.
Gideon leaned back and scratched his neck while he said, "Next main event would be the lizard wranglin, and the dressage contest after that. They have scaled down events for the kits and prairie dogs, too, who ride the dodos."
Nick nodded while rubbing his chin. He wasn't surprised the prairie dogs only rode dodos. With their short arms and legs, and their desire to stay close to the ground (or under it), Nick doubted they were brave enough to ride anything taller. Although rabbits were known for being cute and timid, prairie dogs were just timid.
While leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling, Nick thought about the last two events Gideon had just mentioned. He knew the dressage event was where the riders dressed up in their country best, groomed their birds till they shined (usually dressed them up, too, in flashy saddles and bridles), then strutted their stuff around the arena. The lizard wrangling, though, intrigued him as he had only heard about it in passing. "Lizard wrangling is when the rider chases those giant monitor lizards across the arena, and have to rope them, isn't it?"
Gideon nodded, then held up two fingers, explaining, "Yeah, but it takes two riders to do it, as one has to lasso its mouth shut and stop its run, then his partner jumps off his bird to flip the lizard over and rope one of its back legs to its opposite front leg."
"But isn't that almost as dangerous as the cassowary riding? Monitors lizards have sharp teeth, wicked claws, and that whip-like tail. How do they keep from getting themselves or their birds injured?" Nick asked.
Gideon nodded as he pointed a clawed finger at his new friend, "That's where superb birdmanship comes in and excellent teamwork. Ya have to be one with your bird and one with your partner."
Nick nodded again while he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms while looking out the darkened window. He figured that if he got himself a good bird and learned to ride it, that he and Judy would make an excellent team. Although he'd rather sit back and watch such an event, he could totally see Judy wanting to do it if she had the right partner—which meant him if she decided to give it a try. And, strangely enough, if she asked, he'd do it—for her.
With a flick of his ear as he thought about the immediate future and his need to contact Judy, Nick turned his attention back to Gideon. "Okay, since it's Monday night, I have three and a half days to try and get a message to her, and if that fails, I just need to look for Judy at the rodeo." At Gideon's nod, Nick then asked, "So where do you suggest I stay for a week or more? I don't want to be clear broke when I see Judy."
Gideon didn't immediately reply as he sat back to think. At his silence, Nick's ears drooped. "There aren't any cheap places to rent around here?" This surprised him as the clothing store he'd been to earlier was pretty cheap (without being cheap).
"Well, there are several places you could get a room for a couple of days, but with the rodeo startin this week, a lot will be already booked up starting Wednesday night. There is one place that will still have vacancies after Wednesday, but it's kinda a dump. Wouldn't recommend it." Gideon grimaced while thinking of the place. "It's run by a large, bad-tempered boar who doesn't like most mammals. He keeps the large mammal rooms fairly clean and kept up, but he despises small mammals, and so doesn't clean the rooms very often. And he has the hot water turned off in the small mammal rooms."
Nick's ears splayed back and his tail lashed irritably as he exclaimed, "How does he stay in business then!"
Gideon shrugged again and scratched behind his ear. "He inherited the place from his uncle, but he never cared much about it. Found it more a chore really, as he'd rather be huntin, fishin, and drinkin rather than run the place." Dropping his paw, he added, "Ta stay in business, he charges larger mammals extra, since he cleans their rooms and keeps ta furniture in better condition."
Raking his claws through his head fur, Nick exclaimed, "Are you saying I have to camp out in my car for a week then!?" He loved his car but sleeping in it for a week was out of the question. You don't get his good looks and sleek, fluffy coat without frequent showers and plenty of conditioner. Nor would he subject his classic car to that of being a motel room! It was in mint condition and his pride and joy, and he wasn't going to ruin its image by having dirty clothes and food wrappers cluttering up its back. He'd buy a tent and camp out by the river first.
Nick's ear perked up a bit at this thought, as he realized it wasn't a bad idea. Did they have camping areas around here? Ones with real bathrooms and showers? Surely, they did. This was countryside, for Pete's sake!
Gideon's own ears splayed back as he thought of the fox across from him sleeping uncomfortably in his car—a fox he was already thinking of as a long, lost friend. Gideon didn't have many close friends, but he knew that if he'd met Nick when they were younger, things might have turned out differently for him. He might even have been able to shave off a year or two of therapy—or maybe not even have needed it at all. Who knew? "Well, no, but . . ." Gideon scratched his neck again, then said, "If'n it won't bother you, you can stay with me here at the bakery."
Nick's ears immediately perked all the way forward and his tail began to wag, then he looked around at the tall cabinets, long counters, and industrial-sized appliances (stove/oven, walk-in fridge, large freezer), and the large pantry (there were two wooden doors in the back, with one being clearly labeled Pantry. He assumed the other one led to the bathroom and storage room). Puzzled, he looked back at Gideon and asked, "Here at the bakery?"
Gideon laughed lightly, then waved towards the ceiling and explained, "There's a three-bedroom apartment built above the bakery. You can stay in the guestroom if'n ya want."
Nick's tail began wagging faster, and he asked, "Really? I can?" At Gideon's nod, he asked, "How much will you charge?"
Gideon splayed his ears back and shook his paw out in front of him. "Nothing," he said, "It's free."
"Really?" Nick asked skeptically. Mammals never gave things away for free (except Judy—he still owed her the $20 he hustled from her)—there was always a catch.
At Nick's suspicious question, Gideon explained, "It's the least I can do." Scratching his throat while staring at the counter where one of his large mixing bowls sat, he added, "It's kinda my fault you and Judy had a falling out . . . and that her siblings may chase you off the property or have ya arrested if you showed up without her or her parents around."
Nick simply stared for a moment, then a wide grin spread across his face. "Well, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Let me get my car and you can show me around." Standing up, he made his way to the back door but stopped when Gideon spoke up again.
"Hey, Nick, if, if, you're worried about money, I, I could hire you part-time if, if'n you don't mind working here in, in the bakery."
Nick's ears perked up again and he quickly glanced around the large, well-stocked kitchen. Turning his focus back to Gideon, he answered, "I'd be honored to work for you." With a wide grin and his tail wagging, Nick added, "I've never done much baking—as in never—but I do know my way around a kitchen. One of these nights I'll have to bake you my famous lasagna." Kissing his fingers and then waving them in the air, he added, "It's to die for." Pointing his clawed-finger at Gideon, he said, "Oh, and my chicken enchiladas. I don't get to cook them often, but if chicken's cheap out here, I'll definitely make you some."
Gideon's ears perked up and his own tail was wagging. "It's a deal, Nick." Nick nodded to him, and Gideon watch him turn and slip out the back door. When the city fox first showed up at his door, Gideon feared he'd be sleeping fitfully in a hospital bed tonight while doped up on pain meds and attached to a bunch of beeping, irritating medical instruments, but now—he was really looking forward to the coming week.
WingedKatt here. I hope you enjoyed the world building I did in this chapter. Next chapter, Judy will continue her ride and Nick and Gideon will discuss various things that will reveal more of Nick's past.
Chapter 4: Thoughts of the Past, will post on Friday, March 27. I'm going to start posting Friday evenings, instead of Saturday morning. If you have any thoughts or comments, let me know.
**About the Birds I'm using in the story**
Ostriches are obviously the largest flightless birds and come from Africa. They're pretty well known, so I won't say much about them here.
Emus are the second tallest bird in the world, standing at 4.9-6.2 ft (1.2-1.9 meters). They come from mainland Australia and can run up to 30 mph and will travel long distances in search of food. Although all emus today originated in Australia, back in the 1802 when the birds were discovered by Europeans, there were also emus on the island of Tasmania, Kangaroo Island, and King Island. The Tasmanian emu was about the same size as the Mainland emu as Tasmania is a fairly large island. The Kangaroo Island emus (called just Island emus in my story), are much smaller and were extinct by 1827. They had a dark/black body and most of their neck covered by thick white feathers. The King Island emus are the smallest breed (I will be referring to them as Dwarf emus in my story) and are dark brown and black with a streak of naked blue skin from their eyes down their necks. Due to hunting and fires, the settlers had taken only three years to kill off the King Island emus, making them extinct by 1805. There were two live emus they had captured and taken to Paris, where they died in 1822. They were the last of their kind.
In my story, the birds obviously weren't killed off as it was intelligent animals who discovered them and would have seen their use in domesticating them.
Cassowaries are the third largest birds in the world and are much heavier and muscular than the slender emus (which makes them the 2nd-heaviest birds in the world). There are 3 species: the Southern cassowary is the largest standing at almost 6 feet tall. The Northern cassowary stands nearly 5 feet tall. And the Dwarf cassowary stands at 3 feet tall. They all live in New Guinea, Northeastern Australia, and surrounding islands. They can jump 7 feet high and run up to 30 mph. And yes, they are considered the most dangerous birds on the planet as people are chased and attacked by them every year. They have been known to peck, head-butt, and kick their victims during an attack. They, like the emus, have a large claw on each of their feet (that can be 5 inches long in the southern cassowary) that acts like a knife which they will slash with. Even if you keep your distance, they might still decide to attack you. Be wary of them.
In my story, Cassowaries have been domesticated like the other birds, so some of their vicious tendencies have been bred out, but the ones used in the rodeos still retain their thirst for blood and a good kicking.
Rheas are the fourth largest flightless birds and have two species: the Greater rheas, being the largest, and the Lesser rheas, being much smaller. Both come from South America, with the Lesser rhea found mostly in the southern part of South America. They are extremely fast runners and run with their necks nearly horizontal to the ground.
Dodo birds were discovered in 1598 on the island of Mauritius near Madagascar, and by 1681 they were extinct. Dodos are cousins to the pigeon and scientist figure they were just as smart and trainable as modern pigeons going by their brain-to-body ratio. They were not stupid but had no fear of humans because there were no predators living on their island to teach them fear. They had a large, muscular, streamlined body, standing 3.3 feet tall (a meter) and weighing 22-40 pounds. They could run very fast when they wanted to as sailors complained about how hard they were to catch when they decided to run. The term 'fat and lazy' used to describe dodos had something to do with the captured ones that were taken to Europe and were fed table scraps and not allowed to run—so yes, they became fat and lazy.
Contrary to popular belief, Dodos didn't become extinct due to hunting, for sailors and explorers found their meat tough and unpleasant tasting. What killed the birds was loss of habitat as their forests were cleared, and the release of pigs, goats, deer, monkeys, and rats. The pigs ate their eggs and chicks, while the other animals would have competed with the dodos for food.
In my story, Dodos were obviously domesticated and not killed off.
Roadrunners are mentioned briefly, and are found in the south-western and south-central United States and Mexico. Although they aren't flightless, they are excellent runners, being clocked at 20-27 mph. They will be ridden by mice and other tiny mammals in my story.
If anyone wants to know more about the Monitor lizards in my story, I'll doing a footnote with them when we see them at the rodeo.