Getting the Ball Rolling
"Come on, come on!" a young Nick cried as he tugged at the larger paw holding his. He pointed to a section of the stadium's bleachers further down from where they currently were with a rugged baseball glove. "Our seats are right over there!"
The kit wriggled out from the grip of the older fox that had been holding onto him and pranced down the stairs. The adult chuckled and called out, "Don't run too far ahead, Nick!"
"The seats were just right here," the seven-year-old fox replied as the grown one caught up. The former literally jumped into his chair while the latter eased himself in. Nick bounced up and down energetically as he studied the baseball field in front of them. "Hey, dad. Who do you think they're going to send out first?"
"You mean for the Keepers?" his father asked. Nick nodded. The adult male rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, if I had to guess, it would probably be Adam Grizz."
Nick looked at his father skeptically. "What, no way! Obviously, they're going to send out Daniel Howland. He's their best batter!"
"Maybe you're right. You do know these things better than I do, son."
"Well duh. You need to study more. I can let you borrow some of my baseball cards if you want!"
Nick's dad laughed. "You really mean that?"
"Yeah, but later though. We still need to watch the game today first! I can't wait!"
"You do realize that it isn't going to start for a little while, though, right?" his father asked as his eyes glazed over hundreds of still empty seats. "You were the one who suggested we come early."
Nick's cheeks flushed and he looked away, embarrassed. "W-well, you never know what could happen. I just wanted to make sure we got our seats."
"I'm just teasing, kiddo." His dad laughed again and ruffled the fur on top of his head, prompting Nick to smile widely.
A grown up Nick stared out the passenger side window of Finnick's van with his chin resting atop his paw, supported by his elbow which was propped up against the inside of the door. He watched stretches of uninteresting and unchanging land whiz by at speeds several miles above the speed limit.
It had been his job just a few days prior to stop animals much like the one next to him from breaking the law, but now? He couldn't care less. He was off the clock and they were far from Zootopia. They even still had a couple hundred miles to go. It would be a while until he would start caring again.
The thing that did bother him, though, was the fact that he had nothing to do. He was bored out of his mind. The last day or so was spent doing exactly this—him mindlessly gazing out at absolutely nothing and Finnick—
"Fucking piece of shit!"
He was being Finnick.
The red fox heard a swift thump—the sound of paw striking against metal. He lazily looked over to the fennec who had one paw on the wheel and the other on the knobs of the van's radio. A scowl lined Finnick's muzzle as he fiddled with the piece of technology. Static emanated from the radio's speakers with hints of a broadcast fading in and out. The smaller fox's eyes danced between the road and the panel the radio was mounted on, eventually leaning more towards the latter.
Nick might have been more worried had there been at least one other vehicle nearby or if there was a turn they needed to make, but the road they were on was as straight as an arrow and as empty as a desert. Hell, they probably were in a desert. Dusty yellow sand and dirt was on either side of them and quite a bit of it escaped onto the asphalt in front of them.
Suddenly, the van jerked to one side as Finnick's paw slipped, causing Nick to stumble. Once he recovered, Nick glanced at his partner again. "You might want to focus a little more on that radio of yours, Finn," he said dryly.
"Up yours," the fennec replied.
"What are you even trying to listen to anyways?" Nick asked.
"I got some good money on a ball game," Finnick answered. "I just needa get this stupid thing working and then I can find out how much I made."
"Any chance you don't get that radio working?" Nick said, immediately turned off by the mention of the sport.
"It's my radio; I can listen to whatever the hell I want. If you got a problem with it, piss off."
Nick rolled his eyes. Classic Finn. "I don't get why so many animals get excited over a stupid game; someone hits a ball and they start running around. What's so great about that?"
"What's great is that there's a lot of money to be made," Finnick argued as he continued to tinker with the radio. "I still don't get why you hate it so much. We woulda been rich from the scams we coulda pulled off if you weren't such a bitch about it."
"We always did well enough without having to dip down to the levels of every other amateur out there. Ticket scalping, really?"
"It's a nice, clean scam that's easy to pull off. We—oh, damn finally. Christ."
The radio roared to life, playing a clear transmission.
"—Westwing Fliers with two on first and second. With two outs on the board, Dromaius will be hard-pressed to get a hit and keep racking up those points for his team, but Mulee from the Zootopia Keepers is looking to strike him out."
Nick suppressed the groan that would have otherwise escaped from his muzzle and pinned his ears to his head. As bored as he was, he wasn't desperate enough to want to listen to a game of baseball—he still had his pride. But that didn't mean anything if Finnick insisted on listening to the broadcast.
Nick stuck a paw into his pants pocket and fished out his phone and a pair of earbuds. He carefully stuck each bud into his ears and flipped through the different albums he had saved on the device, eventually hitting the bottom of the list. The red fox sighed and hit the random button.
With his ears now occupied and his eyes without anything interesting to look at, Nick resigned to sitting back and shutting his eyes until their next stop.
An hour later, he opened them to see that nothing had changed. They were still on the same stretch of road in the same stretch of land. His earbuds had fallen onto his lap and after checking his phone, it seemed that his device had paused the music somehow.
"Byrd's readying the pitch and cocks his wing! And there it goes!"
And to his disdain, the baseball game was still going. He glanced to his left to see Finnick almost out of his seat listening to the cast. "Come ooooon, baby!"
"It connects and he sends it flying! It's going, going, and it's—"
"Gone," the red fox finished as he reached forward to shut off the radio.
The fennec gave his former partner a deadpan glare. "Screw you, Nick," he said softly, turning the radio back on.
Nick rolled his eyes. It's just a stupid game. Who cares.
"Damn it all to hell," Finnick cursed a moment later.
"Did your team lose?" Nick asked.
"Tch. This is why you don't bet on the Keepers. Those guys were never good after Grizz left."
"Then why bet on them if they were going to lose? You got too greedy again, Finn. This is what happens when you don't have me around."
"And if you were still around, we woulda had some serious bank!" Finnick replied. "I'm still waiting for you to give me the details on that inside job of yours."
"I've told you a thousand times already; the whole officer gig isn't another scam."
"Yeah, yeah. We passed a sign ten minutes ago, by the way. We'll be at the next stop in about two hours or so."
Nick propped up his head on his elbow. "So what is that? A third of the way there? Looks like we'll be there in another two days."
"I just hope it's not going to be another two days of you bein' a bitch and messin' with my radio."
Nick snorted and said, "You know you love me."
"Fuck you."
Judy absentmindedly played around with the phone in her pocket as she walked down the street. Her eyes glossed over the street signs, directing her to the address of the Ottertons' flower shop. Passing by an electronics store, the bunny pulled out her phone and checked the time.
It was 12:18.
She was right on schedule. At this rate, she would arrive just a few minutes before what she and Mrs. Otterton had agreed upon earlier. Judy considered herself quite fortunate in being able to arrange a lunch date with the two otters on such short notice. Had she not arranged any plans for today, the bunny would have spent an unhealthy number of hours dwelling upon the discovery she had made on the night of Nick's departure. As much as she didn't want to admit it, the primary reason for her lunch with the Ottertons was to distract her from what she had found. Of course, this wasn't to say that she didn't want to catch up with them—she very much wanted to know how Emmitt Jr. and young Lucas were doing—but she couldn't deny that she was using them for her own selfish reasons, if only a little.
Soon enough, Judy found herself in front of the Ottertons' flower shop. It was simple, two-story building with the lower floor acting as the storefront and the upper floor as a living space. The first floor was decorated expertly with various flora, mesmerizing passing animals with their visual allure and inviting them to take a closer look. Though the off-duty officer had every intention of going in anyways, the flowers drew her in nonetheless. Tempted, Judy stopped and sniffed one of the flowers; her nose was filled with a light and refreshing fragrance.
"I see you're enjoying the hollyhocks, Officer Hopps," Mr. Otterton said as he approached her. He glanced at a wall mounted clock behind him and added, "Though I guess you do have a few minutes to spare before lunch starts."
"I didn't want to be late," the bunny replied. "And please, Mr. Otterton, call me Judy."
"Only if you call me Emmitt!" he said cheerfully.
Judy nodded in agreement and the otter motioned for her to step inside. He closed the door behind them, hanging up an 'out for lunch' sign. The bunny looked around, but saw no one else. The only audible sounds belonged to a small television in the corner running some sort of shampoo commercial. She asked the shopkeeper, "Where's your wife?"
"Octavia's upstairs getting the finishing touches for our meal," Otterton answered. He started up some nearby stairs, gesturing for her to follow. "I hope you're as excited as I am for her cooking."
"Judy!" Mrs. Otterton greeted as the pair entered the second floor. She walked up to the bunny and spread her arms apart for a welcoming hug. "It's great to see you!"
"You too!" Judy said, returning the gesture. Once they separated, she spied the lunch the female otter had prepared for them. A couple servings of freshly cooked salmon covered in a dark brown sauce rested upon two plates for the married couple and a bowl containing dark greens mixed with chopped carrots sat on top of a short table nearby. The trio made their way over and the rabbit couldn't help but marvel at the sight and smell of the food.
"Wow, this looks delicious!"
Emmitt wrapped an arm around his wife. "That's my Octavia! Her meals are just to die for!" He placed a paw over his belly and grinned. "They're the reason I'm putting on all these extra pounds!"
"Ah, yes, my cooking is why you've been gaining all that weight and not the frequent snacks you've been sneaking when you think I'm not looking," the female otter said, poking her husband in the side. She snickered at his not-so-masculine reaction and turned to Judy. "Anyways, I hope I got your lunch right. I did a little researching, but I'm still not very familiar with rabbit diets…"
"You got everything right," Judy assured her. She pulled up a chair and sat down, mirroring the Ottertons. When settled, Judy picked up a fork resting next to her bowl and dug in.
"So, how is it?" Mrs. Otterton asked as she took a bite of her own dish.
"It's great," Judy responded after swallowing a mouthful. "It's so fresh; where did you get the ingredients for the salad?"
"There's a local grocery just down the street," Emmitt answered. "We actually get a lot of our food from there. It's very convenient."
"Yeah, I can imagine. The closest store to my apartment is almost half a mile away." Judy's eyes wandered around, noting how open it was. The kitchen and the living room weren't divided by any walls—much like how Nick's apartment was—and the transition between the two was smooth. A number of small plants complemented the furnishings they had and several family photos hung from one of the walls. "Your home is very lovely too."
"Thank you," Mrs. Otterton replied. "We were lucky to find this place when we did. I was pregnant with our first child—Emmitt Jr.—and at the time, our home was very cramped. But by some miracle, we were able to purchase the whole building and move in before I even gave birth!"
"That is lucky," Judy commented. "I probably should look to move out of my own apartment. Something like this would be nice."
"If we come across anything, we'll let you know," she said.
While the two females lightly chatted, the bunny couldn't help but notice the lone male glancing between them and a nearby clock. Judy wasn't the only one to notice as Mrs. Otterton turned to face her husband.
"Is something wrong, Emmitt? You keep looking at the clock."
"Well, uh," he began sheepishly, "there's actually a game going on right now between the Zootopia Keepers and the Westwing Fliers. I was watching a bit of it on the television downstairs."
His wife groaned. "It's just one game, Emmitt! You can watch that later! We have a guest over right now!" She offered Judy an apologetic sigh. "I'm so sorry."
Judy shook her head. "There's nothing to apologize for," she said. Then she turned to Mr. Otterton. "You're a fan?"
"You bet!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, please don't get him started," his mate said half-jokingly.
"What's wrong with wanting to talk about a little baseball?" he asked. "Besides, it's not like I ever get to talk about it with anyone—Emmitt Jr. isn't into sports and Lucas only cares about soccer!"
"I thought you said you didn't care that Lucas liked soccer more than baseball!"
"I don't! I am very supportive of what my boys want to do!" Emmitt argued. His wife looked at him unconvinced. "Okay, I admit that I am a little disappointed that my two sons don't share the same interests as me. What kind of father isn't?"
Mrs. Otterton sighed and shook her head. "Do you see what I have to put up with?" she said to Judy, who laughed.
The male otter took a deep breath to calm himself. "Sorry. I do get a teensy bit excited when I finally find someone I can talk to about baseball. Are you also a fan?"
Judy shook her head. "No, but…" Her words trailed off as her thoughts drifted back to the box of Nick's mysterious belongings.
"Was there something you wanted to know about baseball?" Otterton asked.
She hesitated. If Mr. Otterton was as big of a fan of baseball as he said he was, there was the possibility that he could identify one of the objects she had found near Nick's closet. She could start piecing together what all of it was and what each item meant. But it wasn't her place to be snooping around Nick's things in the first place. Despite all the trust the fox put in her, all of it would be thrown away the instant she chose to pursue the matter further. And it wouldn't be the first time he'd lose faith in her either.
She remembered how easy it was to destroy their friendship back when she had spoken at that press conference and how difficult it was to build it back up after. Granted, her apology was rather quick, but building up the strength and courage to get to that point had been one of the biggest challenges in her life. And should it happen again, she couldn't imagine it being any easier. In fact, it would probably be harder—impossible even—to mend their friendship a second time.
Of course, that was if he found out in the first place.
And that final, seemingly innocent thought was all that was needed. Recalling the name she had seen on Nick's old baseball, she asked. "Does the name 'Dan Howland' ring a bell?"
"'Dan Howland'"? the florist repeated enthusiastically. "Any fan of the Keepers worth his salt could tell you anything and everything about Dan Howland!"
Seeing the otter's reaction over the mention of the name caused Judy's ears to perk up. "So you know him then?"
"Of course! I was a huge fan when I was a kid! Everyone was!" But then whatever excitement he had disappeared. He sighed. "Of course, that was back then. He retired sometime around 1993." Otterton lowered his head and solemnly placed a paw over his heart. "Was a sad day for all Keepers fans; the team hasn't been the same since."
Judy's ears drooped slightly. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. I just found an old baseball the other day and was wondering where it was from. It had his signature on it and—"
Light filled Emmitt's eyes. "You have something signed by him?" he asked ecstatically. "That old wolf hardly ever signed anything! If you can bring it around, I could probably find out for you!"
"R-really?" the bunny asked surprised.
"Just stop on by whenever you can and I'll get back to you as soon as possible!"
Judy fell back into her seat. She couldn't believe her luck. Somehow, she had managed to find someone who not only knew who Dan Howland was, but could also tell her the exact information she needed to piece together the puzzle of Nick's past.
Judy flipped the nearby light switch on and illuminated her surroundings. Of course, nothing had changed from the last time she had barged in. The dirty magazines in Nick's room were still lewd, his bed was still unmade, and she still felt as guilty as she did before, if not more so. Had she lingered on that feeling of betrayal, perhaps it would have been enough to persuade her to turn around.
It wasn't too late to back out and apologize when she could, but Judy already took a few steps towards Nick's closet door. This time, she didn't hesitate and swiftly opened it. Within moments, she stared at a faded signature on the side of an old baseball. It read 'Dan Howland' in blue swirling letters. There was nothing else besides a bit of dirt rubbed onto its leathery surface.
"What am I doing?" she muttered to herself. "Since when do friends snoop through each other's things? If our roles were switched, he wouldn't be doing any of this."
Sighing, she placed the ball back into the box and pulled out her phone. She brought up the messaging app and tapped on the conversation she had with Mr. Otterton.
Hey Emmitt. Turns out I couldn't get the ball. Sorry about that.
Judy brooded over the text, hesitating to press the send button. It would have been easy. Send the text and forget about the whole thing. Or she could just wait until Nick got back and she could ask him directly. Instead, she chose to fall back onto her partner's empty bed with a cry of frustration. Her grip on her phone loosened and she let go of it, letting it bounce once off Nick's mattress and onto the floor.
She groaned at her own carelessness and begrudgingly got up. She bent over to pick up her phone, but noticed a letter sitting atop Nick's nightstand.
Dear Nick,
How are you doing, bud? I know it's been a little while since my last letter, but I haven't forgotten about you or your mom. Things have gotten a little busy here with the holiday season coming up.
Speaking of holidays, I've been working on a little something for you. If it doesn't come in time for Christmas, it'll be there by New Year's. I think you'll like it. I don't want to spoil the surprise, but here's a hint: you can find it in Suitopia.
I'm sorry I can't spend the holidays with you two this year, but next year we'll spend it together. I promise I won't let you down, Nick.
Love you,
Dad
The bunny read through it two more times before even realized that she had picked it up. Confusion, rather than guilt, was now the dominant feeling for Judy as she recalled crumpled up drawing from Nick's box of things. She retrieved the drawing and looked at it again. Seeing the two foxes prompted her to also grab the photo. It was obvious now that she got a good look at everything—the box and its contents were all somehow related to Nick and his father.
Her partner had never brought up the topic of his dad, only his mother. But armed with all the evidence in front of her, she couldn't make sense of it. These were all good memories, so why were they all packed up to be so readily forgotten? The resolve she had from the other night to learn more about Nick and his past returned. She grabbed her phone and erased her previous text, replacing it with a new one.
I got the ball. I can stop by later tomorrow to hand it off.
She clicked send and exited Nick's room with the old baseball in tow.
I'm not dead! And I finally managed to get chapter 3 out! Long story short, but same one as always: I'm pretty busy with school. Especially right now. I had most of this written for a while, but only had time to finish it recently. For now, there probably won't be anything until at least after March. Even then, I'm still not sure when I'll get something out.
Sorry to those of you who are left waiting, but thank you to everyone who keeps reading!