Chapter Eight
Tanzanite
"change negativity to positivity"
Disclaimer: I do not own the series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Kevin Eastman, Peter Laird, and ViacomCBS and Nickelodeon. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me, unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.
Summary: Life had been simple. Shay had moved out of LA to Montana's deep northwestern woods with her kids. She had a ranch and house. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than LA. Shay, however, hadn't planned on hosting a bunch of mutant turtles that stemmed from old comics, movies, or shows. Just how far will she and her kids go to protect them from their tight knit community?
Notes: I am a slow-ass writer these days, because life is a fucking nightmare and I'm a piece of garbage, but thanks for checking in anyways! Anyway, apologies for the lapse in updates, my lovely readers both old and new. Being divorced and a full-time mom with a full-time job makes it kind of hard sometimes. At least for me, it is. But I'm trying to get to the keyboard more, I promise!
And as a token of my gratitude, I present this rather hefty, chunky chapter for your reading pleasure. Enjoy, my lovelies!
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"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see a shadow."
— Hellen Keller
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Her head was absolutely pounding, temples throbbing as the war drums continued beating away. They only seemed to get louder and more painful. It did not help at all that her phone was ringing off the hook. At first, she believed it to be her alarm, but no. The ringtone was Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, the song she picked for her mother's calls. She absently hummed along with the music before unbundling herself from the mountain of blankets atop her. She snaked a hand outward, fumbling along the bedside table before snatching up her phone and brought it beneath the blankets.
Yep, it's Mom. And wow. It's early, even for her.
Her mother was infamous for her habit of sleeping in. If she didn't have church to attend, or a trip to plan out and execute, or a community event to go to, Shay's mother was sleeping until almost noon. It didn't help her case much when she stayed up until two or three in the morning, watching movies or shows.
Like mother, like daughter, Shay thought tiredly.
Shay stabbed her finger on the answer button and brought it to her ear, coughed once, and groaned into the receiver.
"'Lo?"
"Have you seen the news?"
"…no. I was sleeping. You know. Like a normal person?"
"Turn on the local news."
"But Mooooom…sleep. Why aren't you sleeping? You're supposed to be "
"Dad woke me up. Just—turn on the news, please!"
Before Shay could ask why her mother was being cryptic, the call ended with a click. Shay didn't like the tone of her mother's voice. It was taut with stress and desperation and maybe even a dollop of fear.
Shay blinked blearily down at her phone, sluggish and gritting her teeth from her aching skull. She was slow to move, slow to untangle herself from her bed. She picked up the pace as she got dressed and took her meds. By the time she got downstairs, she could see that the sun had already greeted the day. Such was the summertime hours.
The living room was bright with the early morning sun, so bright that it made her head hurt even more, and at a faster tempo. It was much too cheerful for her liking. She was momentarily distracted by movement, and craned her neck to see Leonardo at the kitchen table. He stood, clearing his throat.
"You're up early."
Shay blinked owlishly at him, then nodded.
"Yeah. My ma just called me; said I need to check the local news. Something's up. Uh…can you do me a favour?"
"Of course, but…why are you whispering? Something wrong?"
She motioned to the curtains, squinting at the sunlight while covering her eyes with a hand.
"C-could you, um, close the curtains? I've got this killer migraine right now, and it's just…murdering me."
"Ah, that explains it. I can understand that. Donnie sometimes gets them too."
He moved with purpose, while Shay stood idly by on the last step of the staircase, away from the direct sunlit spaces and shielding her eyes. Nausea bubbled beneath the surface, her only relief relying on the darker shades of the house. When the room was dimmed, she sighed in relief.
"Thanks. Appreciate it."
"Not a problem."
The throbbing drum-war tempo and pressure behind her temples and eyes lessened a great deal. However, Shay she knew her meds would take a while to work their magic. She nodded again in thanks to Leonardo before taking that last step down.
She moved slowly across the living room, taking in details she hadn't moments earlier. Mikey was sleeping on the main couch on his belly, looking comfortable as one can get. A game controller was on the ground, his fingertips just barely brushing it. She saw no sign of Raphael or Donatello, but she took the relaxed air around her as a sign that there was nothing to worry about.
When she crossed halfway towards the living room, Leonardo fell in step with her, mouth open to speak—
—only to suck back down whatever he intended to say as Shay's phone rang again for the second time that morning. Mikey snorted from his slumbering perch on the couch, mumbled something, but didn't stir any further. Shay groaned, stopping in her tracks, eyes squeezed shut, her free hand rising to clutch the side of her skull. She pulled it back just a smidge to hold up her index finger, in the universal sign of "one moment".
She peeped on eye open enough to locate and press the answer button, as well as see the name.
"Why're you up so early? You're as bad as my mom right now." Shay whined, circling around the back of the couch, squinting further to locate the flat screen's remote. She found it, picked up and clicked the button, then set it back down.
Georgina's voice filtered over.
"Better question is, why are you awake?"
"Nnnnng. Fuck off." Shay replied half-heartedly, not meaning anything by it. From the corner of her eye, she saw Leonardo shake his head.
"Love you too, chickadee," George cooed at Shay with a short snort tacked on the end. Seconds later, her tone changed completely. "Something's going on. Your mom, of all people, called me up—"
"Called me too. About to take a look, hold on."
"I'll save you the trouble: some places up in Whitefish have burned down."
That froze Shay's hand as she crouched for the game controller, just a few inches from snatching it up.
"What…what did you say?"
"Some homes and shops of Whitefish? They burned down. Fires started up sometime late last night."
"Not…not the gallery, right?"
A jolt of terror mounted inside of her, ready to take flight and cover as much ground as it could. She shot a look at Leonardo, her brow creased with concern before she turned away back to the screen. She winced, sucking a sharp breath between her teeth as her temples gave a savage pulse. She ignored it as best she could.
"No! Of course it didn't! Don't you worry, we're all safe from unemployment. You remember how to breath? Do just that. Okay? And just as a heads-up while I'm remembering, Jules is going to be swinging by—unrelated to what's going on, but the timing is pretty impeccable—in about a week or so. So, keep your little insurance policy close by for the time being. Sound good?"
"Got it," Shay yawned, hiding her open mouth behind the back of her hand. Georgina reassured her again before bidding her goodbye and the line closed out. Shay tucked her phone into her pocket, yawning again. She inched the controller out of Michelangelo's reach, and into her own. Started up the PlayStation. Got it going. Flicked through menus after logging in. Found YouTube and turned that on. Found what she was looking for in the search engine. Clicked on the livestream news video.
"—who live in uptown Whitefish, where our firefighters have been gallantly containing it. At this point in time, it's speculative as to what the cause is. I spoke earlier with Captain Orcas, who has narrowed it down to either electric, candle-related, or possibly even arson—"
The video froze, buffering as it pleased. Ten seconds later, it resumed with a static glitch, jumping ahead. In the background, Shay could see firefighters working a hose to spray down an indecipherable building. Flames guttered as the high-pressured water doused them as the reporter held her microphone to a local resident. Shay vaguely recalled that they owned a shop in downtown Whitefish.
"—it was just massive when I heard the sirens, and I saw them tearing down the streets, and I felt, I felt scared down to my core! It only got worse when I could actually see the fires just down the street—"
Another buffer presented itself, catching the speaking Whitefish native mid-word. Shay grimaced at the flat screen television, nose wrinkling while a groan built in the back of her throat.
The video resumed after another delayed bout of seconds holding it back. She wasn't surprised when she felt rather than saw Leonardo join her to watch the news cycle.
"—families without homes in just the blink of an eye, a community scrambling to pick up the broken pieces as they face this tragedy. This is certainly not the way to start a new day. I'm Catherine—"
Shay quit the livestream as it reverted to a generic newsroom with a pair of half-smiling news reporters. They instantly turned up the grin factor once they acknowledged the tragedy in order to move on to their next early morning segment which was more wholehearted and fluffier in comparison.
Shay shook her head, cursing under her breath.
"That's not a good sign."
"Yeah, no shit." All the throbbing in her skull seemed to have finally bowed out and she was glad her meds have finally kicked in. Her skin prickled at the entire wrongness and just how disturbingly close Whitefish suddenly was to her home. If I go outside, I'd probably see the smoke from the fire.
That thought sent chills down her spine, moments before she reconciled them. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight, sadly enough.
"I've seen worse. I mean…this is bad. Real bad. But it ain't like the fires in California."
"Who's on fire?" Michelangelo slurred tiredly, punctuated by a loud yawn. Shay glanced back at the couch and saw him pushing himself up to a sitting position.
"Some homes and businesses burned down in Whitefish. They don't know if it was arson, bad wiring, or even a candle gone rogue." Leonardo responded before Shay could.
He gently pried the controller from Shay, and she let him as he exited one news stream for another. When it began playing, he crossed his arms over his chest, staring intensely at the screen.
It was a clip from earlier in the night when it was completely dark. An inferno was twisting its dancing orange tongues sky high and burning as bright as the sun. It had completely engulfed the structure that was within its core. Briefly the fire blew outwards in a starburst of sparks, showering the surprised firefighters as the roof collapsed in on itself. It sent another surge of embers to go flying up into the air.
Shay couldn't recognize whether it was a business or a home. Some homes had actually been converted into businesses along the main street of Whitefish, and judging from the purposeful angles the camera was filming from, it was difficult to discern. Either way, there was no recovering of the building. She just knew, however, either from word of mouth or from a simple drive around town, she'd instantly be able to see what she was questioning as to who and where these fires had affected.
Shay heard Michelangelo shift on the couch behind her. She glanced back at him again, realizing she was standing in the way and scootched over to let him see the TV screen.
"Oh, whoa. That is not chill at all. And they don't know what started it, huh?"
"Try seeing an entire mountain range on fire. That shit's even scarier."
Shay slid her hands into her back pockets, and she could feel eyes burning into her.
"Not sure if you guys know, but California is practically in a perpetual state of drought. We don't get a lot of rain out there and we have a lot of dry vegetation because of it. Perfect kindling for the tiniest spark. I remember needing to wear a bandanna over my face just to breath because the air was so thick with smoke and ash during fire season." She could almost feel it falling down around her like grey snow. "I remember the mountains around my valley burning, see the outline of them at night from the glow. It gets worse every year. I hate saying I was used to the fires, but it's the truth."
She breathed in deeply, watching as the images continued to shift to footage from hours ago. The newsroom suddenly came back on with a pair of new anchors at their desk, promising to fill in the waiting public as the story continued to unfold. It was another broadcast that Leo had put on.
"Shit got real when people had to evacuate when the fires got too close to their homes. Some couldn't be saved, and…lots of people lost their lives too. And the mountain pass where the highway cuts through to get from the San Fernando Valley and Los Angeles? The entire thing catches on fire. People had to drive past with the fire literally beating at the concrete dividers and through all that smoke."
"That's…pretty harsh, dude."
Shay shrugged, breathing deep. She could almost feel the fragrant sting of wood burning inside her nostrils, taste the ashes in her mouth, hear the wailing of sirens as a tinny echo in her ears. The weaning news report brought up a slew of memories that she hadn't really thought about in years. Quiescence stole over her for a time before she twitched into action and cleared her throat. There had been fires in the state of Montana before due to dry conditions, true enough—but they had never truly been close enough to matter. Not like the fires in southern California. One had to see those flames to believe in them.
The fires in Whitefish were jarring, to say the least.
"I've got a few calls to make while I…take care of the, uh, the morning chores. Just gotta make sure people are okay. I'll, uh…I'll be back in a little."
She was already burying her nose into her phone, only glancing up once or twice to make sure she was heading toward the front door. Trotting up behind her was Evergreen and Chief and as she opened the door, they both bolted outside. They zoomed down the porch steps and pelted across the property.
Leonardo and Michelangelo watched her go, the pair silent for a time. When the front door opened and closed, it signified that they were alone. Leonardo turned his attention back to the television, but the livestream was already moving on to an early morning fluff piece. Something going down in Kalispell. His attention waned.
"This isn't good, is it?"
"No. It isn't," Leonardo replied tersely. Michelangelo shifted in his seat on the couch and swung his legs over the edge. "So…does this mean what I think it means?"
"It won't be easy," Leonardo admitted and added, "but I think it would be best if we did show this place a little more security."
"Yeah, that sounds great and all, Leo…but what about getting into town?"
At first, Michelangelo thought he'd found a hole in his older brother's plan.
"We may be able to work around that if we get a working vehicle in order. We can't simply take Shay's. What if she has an emergency and needs to get to town? She'd be stranded here, unable to get help."
The orange-banded turtle sighed and nodded, seeing the sound logic in that.
"Especially if her kids got hurt or her animals," Michelangelo echoed to back up Leonardo's sentiments. Leonardo gave yet another curt nod in response.
"Exactly." The blue-banded turtle scanned the television screen momentarily. "Find Raph. I'll grab Donnie."
That perplexed Michelangelo for a split second. "For what, exactly?"
Leonardo met his younger brother's gaze directly, unflinching.
"We need to get back into our routine of training. It doesn't matter if we're home or not. If we slack off any longer, we won't be a complete and synchronized unit. We fall apart when we're on our own. It's only when we're together that we thrive and stay strong."
Michelangelo's expression deflated, but it was fleeting and temporary. He could only offer a nod in return. He watched as Leonardo headed off. Michelangelo began to stretch, working out any kinks he may have developed while he had been sleeping on the couch. He could only guess as to where Raphael had slept last night, but Donnie was a bit more predictable.
He wasn't discouraged by the silence that was overwhelming the house. The kids weren't up quite yet, and Shay was tending to her chores with the animals. They had some time to kill until then.
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Tlitoo was waiting for her out on the paddock fence. Once he spotted Shay, he gave a croaky greeting and fluttered to the woman's shoulder. Tlitoo nibbled gently on one of Shay's many earrings and mumbled a quick hello in her ear.
"Morning, buddy. How're Bongo and Chips doing, huh? Y'all gonna raise some little babies soon?"
Tlitoo snuffled in reply, a soft croak building in the back of his throat. He pressed his breast closer against Shay's cheek. His glossy feathers were warm and soft from the sun already. Shay looked skyward as she closed the barn doors, and she could see a thick trail of smoke still billowing up over the mountain ridges.
Concern rippled within as she recounted all of the phone calls she had made in record time as she had worked. So far, she's heard positive affirmations—mostly repeated information from the news cycle. Nobody she knew was dead or injured, but they were all shaken up. Some of the folks in town had to crash at other people's homes or in motels as they tried to collect their wits. She called her mother back last. Shay knew her mother, of all people, was a social butterfly and could gather up information faster than Shay ever could.
Tlitoo shuffled his feet on her shoulder, talons digging through her shirt as she headed back toward the house. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. The kids were roused from bed, dressed, fed, and walked out to the bus stop.
When she returned from her walk from the bus stop, the house was strangely silent. It was the first she noticed it. Her house was overwhelmingly empty and much too big for her liking. She went by the numbers, checking out the rooms on the first floor. She found no sign of the turtles. It was like they were never here at all.
Did…did they leave?
Concern edged closer towards panic, far more quickly than Shay would have liked to admit. It was Tlitoo, with well-meaning nips and grumbling croaks, that distracted her long enough to stumble upon the brothers with some calm reserve leftover.
She relaxed when she saw that the brothers were outside, out behind the house. Not gone. They hadn't disappeared without a word. Tlitoo hopped off her shoulder as she crossed the back porch and leaned against the railing to watch the turtles down below.
Watching them on a screen was one thing. She could break down scenes of a film quite easily, right from treatment to script to thumbnails to storyboarding to total completion. It helped having gone to a film school for her degree.
But being able to physically witness things she could only imagine previously firsthand was of an entirely new level of awe that filled her from head to toe.
She couldn't look away, they were mesmerizing in their own respects. They moved fluidly, almost like it was dance being performed rather than sparring practice. There was a grace to it all. Leonardo was more precise in his movements, a sort of calm diligence and preemptive guesswork to his movements based on experience. Raphael, in contrast, was utilizing his brute strength and heavier hitting movements as a strategy. Donatello was content to keep his distance, while Michelangelo was more upfront and wilder. He wasn't easy to predict.
None of them had their weapons out, only utilizing their bare hands and feet. They executed moves and forms that Shay winced at, and her back twinged at just the thought of her trying to do the same. They hardly took pause to recover and simply slid from one position to another. When blows struck, she could swear she felt the power of it crackle in the air around her from the sound they carried.
Shay could only follow one of them at a time. She shifted from one brother to the next, lingering for minutes at a time until one of the others caught her attention.
The sun beat down on her backside and she had to shed her light jacket as the heat began to rise. Tlitoo stood beside her, watching with only the occasional passing glance at the commotion out on the grassy knoll. She didn't know how long she stood there, watching them, transfixed.
In the interim, at least three more ravens came to join her on the back patio. One of them settled at Tlitoo's side and they began preening one another. The others hopped along the wooden slats of the patio, playing little games. The smallest of the birds stood beside Shay on the opposite side Tlitoo was and pecked gently at Shay's tattooed arm.
"Hey, Chips. How're you doing today," she asked quietly, breaking her line of sight from the brothers. In the time she looked away and back at the brothers, they began to use their weapons. Shay diverted her attention back to the brothers as she absently burrowed her fingers into Chips' scruff. He made soft, pleased noises as she helped him with pin feathers that were ready to shed their keratin cocoons.
Donatello blocked a blow from Leonardo with his bō staff; Michelangelo danced out of range from Raphael's sais. And in the middle of it all, they'd switch off wordlessly, pairing off with one of the others.
When Shay finally checked her phone, she balked at how long she had been on the back patio. Slowly, she stretched to work out the stiffness that had once again settled in the crooks and crannies of her muscles and tendons. She moved back inside with some regretful glances shot over her shoulder. The ravens followed her inside, hopping like bunnies as they did.
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"So…don't get mad."
"I'm going to get mad, aren't I? What did you do?" Shay sighed, rubbing at her temples with frustration building up behind her fingertips. And here she thought she'd been rid of her goddamn migraine…
Georgina smiled guiltily as she gathered her thick, curly hair into a makeshift bun. Shay held the back office door open, patiently waiting for her to finish.
"Well, number one. I got Peter off your back from the other day—"
"—thank you for that," Shay interjected quickly, a small but hefty burden of half-hearted guilt rising away from her shoulders. It evaporated as quickly as morning dew caught under the gaze of the sun.
Georgina nodded and winked in return. "You're welcome. And number two…I smoothed things over with those customers that were bugging you."
"I sense a 'but' coming on. Why do I sense a 'but' coming on? Is this a good 'but' or a bad one?" A heavy lead ball took residence in the pit of her stomach, replacing the weight she had just been released of. Georgina didn't answer for one option or the other.
"But—"
"—I fucking knew it—"
"—I also maybe-kinda-sorta…got a date with one of those guys. And I only agreed to it, if you came along."
Georgina's words left Shay stunned until she could actually gather her own.
"…I'm not just a third wheel or some kind of chaperone, am I?"
Georgina chuckled as they stepped out of the back office together and into the gallery. Shay took the keys from Georgina and strolled to the front door, unlocking and unbolting it. She flipped the sign hanging in the window from 'closed' to 'open'. Shay flipped the lights on, and the paintings were cast in stark, clear relief from the gallery lights.
Outside, the morning foot traffic was slow, but it would pick up as the day drifted into the afternoon. That is, it usually would, but her thoughts drifted to the fires. There was still smoke rising heavenward, and she doubted it'd dissipate for a while. It was too much of an eyesore for the moment. People would be more focused on that today.
At least the fires are under control.
"Uhhhhh…well, not really. It's more like…a double date."
"Ex-fucking-scuse me?" Shay froze solid in her tracks. The only thing that moved was her head as she swiveled it to look at her friend. Georgina's smile retained its sheepish nature while she delayed in responding. Shay wasn't sure whether she should be shocked or angry.
Or perhaps both. Both. Both was good.
"A double date," she repeated to a still incredulous Shay. "I'll be with Tyler, and he said he'd bring Andrei. You know. For you?"
"You went and got a date with that handsy motherfucker, and now you're making me go out with the creeper dude?!"
"It's just one date and I'd feel a lot better if we were together. Strength in numbers. Plus…this could be a good kind of change for you. Something to break up your usual routine."
"You—I—why didn't—I don't—UGH. FUCK. Why, George? Why?!" Shay wilted the longer she lingered on the idea. It made her shudder with disgust. "George, I don't want to be around that guy! You don't understand, I just…don't feel right when I'm around him," she said, hugging herself and casting a cursory glance outside. She almost half expected to see Andrei loitering outside, watching the gallery from afar. Without blinking. Like a creeper.
"Pleeeeeeeease do this for me, chickadee? Pleeeeeeease?" Georgina clasped her hands together in a begging motion, her smile hopeful as she stared down at her smaller friend. Shay scowled back. Here she was, hoping the most eventful thing she'd be doing this week would be helping Korra using a bow, and practice ax-throwing for a tournament in a few weeks.
"You didn't even ask me if I'd be all right with going."
"He was cute though! And that ass, girl. Whoo! It reeled me in. Don't tell me you didn't notice. I know you did."
She groaned at Georgina as the other woman waggled her brows at Shay. Shay's groan dragged out into a wordless whine. Shay moved around to the register, pulling her stool out and plopped right into it. Her leg twinged in protest, but it wasn't as bad today. The graze from the Polk's hunting rifle was already starting to heal. She doubted she'd have a visible enough scar in the next week or so.
"Ugh. Fine. Yes. He was…conventionally handsome. I will concede to that point."
"Conventional? Mm-mm, nope. Don't start lying to me now. He's sexy like Idris Elba or Michael B. Jordan. Mm-MM! Mama likes." Georgina crooned with a pleased, sultry look painted on her face. She halted by the counter, leaning forward and cradled her chin in the palms of her hands as she sighed.
"Yeah, well, Mama better remember he's just a tourist, he's got it written all over his face. Last I checked, not a lot of people of colour are looking to flock to White People Central in the middle of god's nowhere."
"Don't remind me of the troubles that plagues us black folk up here. I grew up in this area, I more than know about that struggle alone already." Georgina finally joined Shay behind the register, pulling up her own stool and slung an arm around her friend's narrow shoulders. "It's just the one date and it's this Saturday, by the way. If you're still creeped out, I won't push it anymore. Just…give it a chance, huh? It might be different when you ain't working and have to be all professional and chipper and fake and shit."
Shay glanced at the taller woman from the corner of her eye, her frown practically glued on. She sighed and slumped her shoulders in defeat.
"Fine. I'll be your double-date-friend-slash-chaperone. If either of them makes any wrong fucking move, I reserve the right to bitch-slap one or the both of them with extreme prejudice."
"I'll take it."
"And next time, George? Please don't volunteer me for any double date schticks ever again. Not without asking me first, at least."
"I make no promises. But I'll help you hide the body if things go south. I got a shovel in the trunk of my SUV."
"Why am I not surprised? Well, I guess I'll provide the beer, rope and tarp, then. But you have to bring the lye and woodchipper since I ain't got a boat, fish chum, or sharks. I don't need no dead body stinking up so bad a search party tracks it down lickety-split."
"Deal."
They shook on it, with Shay feeling relaxed and at ease by the thin yet comforting thought she wouldn't have to remain alone in this entire endeavor.
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"The bear came back again, Mommy. And I think it had a friend."
The drive home was a monotonous journey. She was lulled by its familiarity and simply nodded her head and added, "Mm-hmm. That's nice, baby."
"It was a crocodile! A real mean-looking one too! They were both so big!" Cas continued with an explosive burst of energy in his motions. That gave Shay pause. She momentarily glimpsed her son's reflection in the rearview mirror. Raised a brow. Quirked her lips downward.
"A…a crocodile, you said? Honey…as fun as that sounds…crocodiles…they don't live out here. It gets way too cold in the winters. They prefer warm climates that are year-round."
"But it's warm here. It was so hot outside today!"
"It also snows here a lot, and I know they can hibernate, but they primarily live in more tropical or arid climates for a reason. They can't generate heat of their own, just like snakes or lizards can't."
"But Mommy—"
"Castiel…I'm telling you, it…it just isn't possible. Maybe for the summer, it would be fine, but come wintertime, it would go to sleep and probably die from the below freezing temperatures. They can only survive outside their usual homes at places like a zoo. Simple as that."
Cas fell into sour reticence, his little brow crinkling together while his lips pulled into a stubborn pout.
"You're not listening to me, though…"
"Cas, Mom's right. Crocodiles are reptiles. They wouldn't like it here in Montana for most of the year. They wouldn't last long in our woods. One winter, that's all it'd take to kill it. Reptiles don't like the cold. Remember how Wishbone doesn't eat all winter, every winter, ever since we got him?"
"But I'm telling the truth!"
"Did your teacher see it?" Korra pressed, looking her brother up and down beside her.
"Well…no…but I sit close to the window, and I know what I saw!"
"Enough, you two. Cas, your sister's right. Now just…enough." Shay sighed noisily through her nose, shaking her head as though that alone would clear it. She brought a hand up to rub at her temples as she could feel it pushing back hard with every pulse. "I need you guys to help me get some things from the garden. Think you can handle that?"
"What're we getting," Korra responded, perking in her seat in the back.
"One of the zucchinis, some garlic, onions…"
"Rosemary?"
"For the bread, of course. We'll prep the new loaf tonight and finish off the one I made the other day. Tonight, I'll be making—"
"—chicken and zoodles and sauce!" Castiel and Korra both said simultaneously.
"My favourite," Cas added, making a loud slurping noise of delight. To think, this kid had been the pickiest eater in the family as a toddler. Worse than Korra, worse even than Shay. It wasn't hard to see where he got it from, however. Her ex had never been particularly picky when it came to food. And Shay's personal brand of pickiness was selective on textures mostly. She was, ultimately, the culprit.
Shay smiled, nodding as she glanced at the kids in the rearview mirror.
I definitely made the right choice bringing us here. They both were thriving more so here in Montana than all of them had back in Wisconsin and even more so than in Los Angeles.
Everything didn't need to happen in such a rapid-pace fashion. It all occurred in a more natural way. She didn't have to worry about traffic, the rush to get everything completed all at once. The pressure of city life had melted away once she and the kids had settled into their new home three years ago.
And to think, Shay had spent so many years away from the state she had grown up in—only to wish nothing more than to move to Montana. Just like her dad…
Her thoughts, however, continued to drift to what her son had told her. A bear and a crocodile…?
A bear she could believe. If a bear was growing used to people, that was a problem, especially if it was hanging around her kids' school.
But a crocodile?
They just weren't built for Montana. Not full-time and outside of a zoo environment.
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"You've got about four messages on your answering machine."
Shay sighed the moment she walked in with the kids, already dreading having to go through her landline's machines. She could remember the very last time she had ever had a landline and that was over fifteen years ago back in California. Getting a landline out in Montana however…
It has, so far, upheld itself as a proven investment in the long run. If her cell phone crapped out, she could rely more readily on the landline. It didn't drop her calls as badly as her cell when she was at home. She flashed a thumbs up to Donatello, the one who informed her firsthand of those messages. She realized halfway through the first one that he was still standing beside her.
Julien's voice came filtering through, which surprised her quite a bit. "Hey, it's Julien, just wanted to touch bases with you and Georgina and to let you know I've got some things to discuss with everyone at the gallery. I'll be stopping by early next week for that—either Monday or Tuesday—so don't be too surprised or nervous if you see me. If you have any concerns, just let me know. All you guys have my number."
Shay vaguely recalled Georgina saying the same thing, that Julien was coming in. The second message was from a friend in town—who ironically was another veteran such as herself. He was asking whether or not she'd be joining him and some others for ax-throwing practice later this weekend. Shay began texting him back halfway through his message, letting him know she'd be there Sunday, and that it was a promise.
The third was an unsolicited caller spouting a spam. She deleted it barely a sentence in.
The fourth was from her mother, asking Shay to call her back. She sighed, recognizing the concern in her mother's voice. No doubt it was with more information about the fires earlier on. Her mother's powers of conversation never ceased to amaze Shay.
Ever since Shay was a child, she would always say her mother knew everyone, no matter where they all went.
So far, Shay has hardly ever been wrong. Wherever her mother went, she always seemed to run into someone she knew—whether they were long-term or newly forged relationships. Her mother has always managed to craft lasting relationships with just about everyone she crossed paths with. It didn't matter if those contacts remained on a constant basis or for a short tenure. Shay was secretly envious of such abilities…
"I've been keeping track of those fires since the news report earlier this morning," Donatello remarked. Shay glanced at him from over her shoulder, brows knitting together.
"I've been at work all day and I don't really get to use my phone there, so…lay it on me."
"No casualties so far, thankfully," Donatello continued, lifting a weight from Shay's heart. The following 'but' she expected sank it back down a little. "But some homes were irreparably lost. A few businesses as well."
He listed the names, and when most drew a blank from Shay, she was partially ashamed to feel relief that they weren't people she knew (or people she didn't recall knowing). One of the businesses Donatello listed from the recent news report she vaguely knew of, however. Another one was a cleaning service of kind.
"Haven't heard much else, being at work all day," Shay admitted once again, lips pulling into a stiff and grim line.
"I figured as much. You said you worked at an art gallery in Whitefish, right?"
"Yeah. One of those messages, it was from the gallery owner. He jumps between the three galleries he owns across Montana, just to make sure they're running smoothly. He's one of those hands-on kinds of bosses."
"Is that good news or bad news for you?"
"Should be good. I know for a fact my immediate manager has it out for me, being the control freak jackass that he is so far, but he doesn't scare me. I've got plenty of dirt on him."
"I'm sorry to hear that. But I assume this dirt will help," Donatello guessed, a half-smile crossing his features as he pushed his glasses back up. Shay snorted loudly and grinned, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
"Nah. Me and George are a united front on a number of things and she'll vouch for me. I think Peter is more afraid of her than she is of him too. She ain't a push over and she speaks her mind. You know…she actually went to New York City to attend a really high-profile fashion school."
She saw the light in Donatello's eyes intensify with interest. "Really? She did?"
Shay felt pride in her friend…but it slowly eked out of her, remembering vividly why George had to leave. "Her…her mother got sick. She's the one with Huntington's. See, George's dad skipped out when she was pretty young. It's just been her and her mom since, and the community. It's...something I understand on a personal level and everyone was rooting for Georgina when she left for school, but…well…"
"Her mother's Huntington's got worse," Donatello finished. Shay nodded, closing her eyes.
"Yeah. And now she works at the gallery with me. She was there before me, but it pays the bills so far. Peter wasn't there for that long before George got there, and then I came along. Peter, he…he hates my guts, and I only have speculation to go off of. And all of it came from third-hand parties and hearsay. I think he just…hates that I became a Marine somehow? Maybe he tried to join but didn't meet their standards at the time of his enlistment? Maybe he just hates all Marines? I really don't know. He's mum on that, but he just oozes hatred around me."
Shay heaved a sigh, the heaviness of the situation weighing against her backside.
"And," Shay continued, "it doesn't help that he's lusting hard after a married woman we work with, who also happens to have some kids."
"As opposed to a divorced woman with kids. Like…you?"
Shay ignored the hurtful sting that lanced through her at the somewhat innocent, yet painful, truth of things. She was partly glad because it wasn't out of jealously or want for Peter. His prolonged nastiness he leveled at her on a constant basis…it was the ultimate turn-off. A man being terrible towards a woman does not a romantic relationship make.
She'd had enough of that abusive bullshit from her ex-husband after ten grueling years of marriage.
"I refer back to my manager pining for a married woman. It's why he lets her off work to the point she's practically never there. He covers her for all the time, falsifies her hours, keeps her at full-time. I can't even count the number of times he's tried to either cut me to part time or let me go completely if I so much as bag a trashcan wrong." Shay huffed a short laugh. "Thank god for George, man. She watches my back like a hawk, and I do as much as I can to return the favour."
The easy-going smile Donatello offered her was relaxed. "It seems you two are pretty close."
Shay nodded. "She is in my top three at this point. I dunno what would happen to me if I didn't have her around. Fall back on old habits of curling up, keeping quiet. Taking the abuse. She…she helps bring me out, I guess. But…it's still hard, knowing that someone I work with is actively trying to kick me to the curb. I guess nobody hates veterans quite like other veterans."
Shay threw her hands up in defeat. She was so tired of trying to figure out how Peter's head worked and has since given up on the herculean effort a long time ago.
It didn't mean his constant open hostility launched at her on a daily basis wasn't equally exhausting and disheartening. In the beginning, she had tried fixing whatever slight she believed to have committed. When the truth—or the third-hand party account's version of it—came down to her, she realized there was nothing she could actually do.
He had absolutely no interests in reciprocating her efforts. Peter had chosen to hate her on principle. He had chosen to cast aside any options of truce or mending bridges. He seemed hellbent on continuing to his path of abhorring Shay's guts.
"You can lead a horse to water, but…"
"You can't force it to drink," Donatello finished with a little nod in her direction. Shay gave him a tired dip of the head in return. She wished she could simply go upstairs and collapse into bed. She had a nagging feeling that for once, her insomnia would gracefully step aside to allow her back into the dark oblivion's embrace for a short while.
But, she thought, I have dinner to make. And we're all hungry. Time to woman up and keep moving forward.
Suffice to say, quite a few hours after the fact, she was pleased dinner went down well for herself, her kids, and especially her guests.
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