"I'm sorry…" Abelard grunted, though he still scowled at Cainan when their eyes met. It was the first time either of them had spoken since leaving the church. Abelard had taken to helping Cainan by letting the young cat hold onto him, while he in turn held onto him to support him. They'd figured it was best not to let him put too much weight on his bad leg just yet.
"Hmmm, what for? The part where you yelled at my face or the part where you injured my leg?" Abelard stared at Cainan in disbelief. How could he still speak in such a casual, snide, almost jovial manner at a time like this? Under his free arm, Abelard carried Cainan's brown coat, which was surprisingly heavy.
"Your leg, of course," Abelard snapped promptly, not in the mood for Cainan's playfulness. "Does it hurt?"
"It does, but I'm sure it'll be fine." Although Cainan still spoke in that casual manner, Abelard couldn't help but notice that he sounded somewhat hesitant about that statement. He supposed he couldn't blame him for being worried. If Wendell's assessment was to be believed, it was a rather deep gash.
"Don't you worry, we'll be there soon. There it is," Abelard told him as they got to the top of the small hill they'd been climbing together. From there, the Arbogast Funeral Home was fully within view with its multiple floors, its singular turret and its big stone sign out front. They just had to follow the dirt road to get there.
"This is your home? It looks nice," Cainan noted calmly as they approached the large house. Normally, it would be a comforting sight to Abelard after a day of being away, but now was different, seeing as he was guiding Cainan – a person he vehemently did not trust – towards his abode. They still had a lot to talk about, but it wasn't the time just yet. No, Abelard knew it would have to wait, but he fully intended on getting the truth out of Cainan sooner rather than later.
"Yes, I have lived here most of my life." The two of them made it to the large, ornate stone sign, which Cainan took note of immediately.
"Funeral Home? I'm not dying am I?" For a moment, Abelard couldn't quite tell if Cainan was still joking or if he was genuinely worried.
"I'm afraid it's not your time just yet, Mr. Wirth," he told the younger cat dryly as he helped him up to the front porch. They hadn't even made it to the parlor door before it slid open. Elsa stood in the doorway, watching the two of them, though she shot a wary look at Cainan as Abelard helped him along. Elsa had her hair down and she wore a casual pale orange dress today, her expression looking troubled. "Ah, Elsa. Please, could you help me get this young man to the basement?"
"Basement?!" Both Abelard and Elsa ignored Cainan's alarmed exclamation. Abelard didn't actually want Cainan to be in their basement, all things considered, but unfortunately it was where Elsa would best be able to work.
Elsa turned those blue eyes that so resembled Abelard's towards Cainan's leg. The blood-soaked, white cloth that had been tied around his ankle, where the scythe blade had cut him, was barely visible through the cut up denim pants leg. She looked back up at Abelard, her face neutral, but Abelard knew what she was thinking. "I didn't tie it. Just help me get him down there, please."
With Elsa's help, Abelard managed to get Cainan into the parlor. It was a sparsely decorated space with a few places to sit, two small couches, a few tables with chairs. It wasn't designed to be the most welcoming place in the house, but just to be nice enough to put the mourning at ease while visiting. The parlor was also connected to the turret on the outside, its tall windows letting plenty of light in.
Abelard and Elsa got Cainan down the steps that led from the parlor to the basement. Throughout the house, vases holding flowers stood on shelves and tables. Normally they'd be live plants, but in winter and early spring, they were most often dried ones from seasons past.
It wasn't far, thankfully; not even a dozen steps down before they arrived in a small chapel, the place where the mourning could say their final goodbyes to the deceased once they'd been embalmed. The house had seen renovations since the days when Abelard and Elsa lived there with their parents, and the basement had seen some of the most significant ones. The basement had primarily been used for storage years ago, but after becoming a funeral home, the main space downstairs had been converted into the little chapel that it was today.
Much like the church where Abelard was reverend, it wasn't very big. The floor was made up of dark wooden planks and the walls were mostly barren and covered by similarly dark wooden panels. The one exception was the wall on their right where frosted glass windows separated the chapel from the embalming room. Once the trio got to it, Elsa unlocked the door and they all stepped into the room.
The small room that waited inside wasn't exactly welcoming, nor was it meant to be. This was only a room for work where Bobby and Elsa could take care of the dead. The floor was covered by dark brown tiles with smaller, beige, diamond-shaped ones in between where the corners of the bigger ones would meet. The beige walls were barren, lacking any sort of decoration besides the lamps that helped illuminate the space, which were placed between two small, frosted windows near the ceiling.
The only wall in the room that wasn't entirely barren was the separator wall from which they had entered. The wall was wooden with frosted windows to obscure the view from the outside, and it was also a newer fixture to the basement.
The embalming room wasn't very full or cluttered. It was clinically clean and always carried a lingering smell of cleaning products; it was always as clean as could be, given what usually took place in this room. In the very center stood an operating table, which was usually reserved for dead bodies, and a small sink that could be wheeled around stood next to it.
Normally Elsa would wear one of the white coats that hung on the coat tree, but the process with Cainan likely wouldn't be extensive enough to warrant it. She and Abelard both helped Cainan get onto the operating table. Once he laid there, Elsa turned to Abelard. "Please help him get ready while I get my things from upstairs."
With Cainan on the operating table, Abelard hung the younger cat's brown coat on the coat tree next to the door that led up into the garage. There was a large metal sink by the wall left of the coat tree and next to it stood a medical cabinet, and a large desk, which held various tools and mechanisms used for the embalming process, as well as… other thing. Seeing as Abelard wasn't actively involved in this part of the death business, he couldn't actually tell what most of the stuff was, as he rarely set foot in this room.
"Of course," Abelard grunted in response, giving a simple nod, even though he didn't like this any more than Cainan seemingly did. Once Elsa left, Abelard turned towards him, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the young cat looking quite worried. "What's the matter?"
"I'm not actually dying, am I?" The Turkish Angora cast a worried look down at his right leg. When he looked back up and saw the look on Abelard's face, his ears laid back against his head. "Look, I don't know, I've never been cut like that… Uh… I'm feeling a bit woozy, though, is that normal?"
"That's probably because you've lost blood. But don't you worry your little head about that, Mr. Wirth – my sister's going to take care of your leg," Abelard grunted at him, crossing his arms. He looked down at Cainan and sighed. "Well, shall we get this over with…?"
"Hey now, what're you doing?" Cainan asked, squirming slightly on the operating table as Abelard set about untying his shoes.
"What do you think, Mr. Wirth? My sister needs to have access to your wound." Once he got both shoes off and placed them on the floor, Abelard found himself hesitating when it came to the younger cat's pants. However, he knew he ought to remove them for the sake of access to the scythe gash. When he began to unbuckle Cainan's belt, he heard the younger cat snickering. Abelard's left ear gave an irritable flick, before he growled, "What is it now?"
"Oh, nothing… It's just that usually when someone's taking my pants off, it's under very different circums- And this is the part where I shut up – got it." Abelard had shot Cainan a glare like no other, which had successfully shut the white cat up, though he still smirked when Abelard looked at him again.
Grumbling under his breath, Abelard pulled the younger cat's denim pants off, leaving him in his underwear and leaving him looking significantly less dignified than before. Abelard put the ruined pants aside and tried his best not to make eye contact with Cainan as he waited for Elsa to return.
"So your sister's a nurse?" the white cat asked after a moment's silence, clearly trying to break up the awkward quiet that filled the embalming room. If there was one thing Abelard wasn't in the mood for, it was more conversation.
"Former nurse." Elsa had arrived, carrying a brown bag with her that lightly rattled from the medical supplies it held, a noise Abelard was familiar with by now. It wasn't too often that Elsa got to put her medical skills to use these days, but Abelard had complete faith in his little sister's abilities to properly take care of Cainan's injury.
"Oh, alright… so what-" But Elsa shushed Cainan and put her hand on his forehead before she gently pushed his head down. Once he was flat on his back, Elsa moved down to undo the white cloth around his leg, which at this point was quite red and bloodied. "How bad is it, ma'am?"
"You'll live… but I will need to stitch you back up," Elsa told him in her calm, almost bored voice, before she reached for her bag. Abelard had settled off to the side, seating himself on a chair located beside the coat tree. He didn't particularly feel like watching, but he still stuck around while his sister worked.
As Elsa set about cleaning the young cat's wound, Abelard heard him wincing and watched him squirm. Although the feeling of betrayal was as strong as ever, Abelard couldn't help but feel guilty about being the one responsible for putting Cainan in this predicament to begin with. No matter how he looked at it, it was still his fault, whether Cainan was truly guilty of the crimes he'd (allegedly) committed as a child or not.
Abelard didn't know what to truly believe at this point. The odds weren't on Cainan's side; from the way he'd acted, to the way the locals didn't seem to have a lot of positive things to say about him, especially Mr. Weaver. The reasons to believe Cainan was guilty as charged were starting to pile up.
And yet…
Wendell had seemed so willing to vouch for Cainan, which was down to how readily Cainan had (allegedly) been willing to help him out around the grounds. But was that enough? Of course, people could change, but… The sins of Cainan's past were numerous, if the hearsay Abelard had heard was to be believed. But then again, that was just hearsay, wasn't it?
For the longest time, Abelard had prided himself on being a man who didn't put any stock into rumors like that. Was he letting his personal feelings sway his judgment? As Cainan grunted loudly in discomfort, Abelard looked over, watching the white cat as he laid there. He was a pitiful sight at the moment. Abelard supposed he may have jumped to conclusions too quickly. All he wanted for his church (and by extension, Defiance) was the best.
It was a church that meant so much to Abelard; he'd attended services there when he was young and it had felt like one of the defining moments of his life when the title of reverend was given to him, and he became the village minister. The building was as close to a second home as it could get, given how much time he spent there. All he wanted was to make sure he didn't put it into the wrong people's hands.
He supposed… Well, God was forgiving, and he supposed he should be as well.
Sins could be forgiven, if Cainan even wanted forgiveness. He seemed like an unapologetic type to Abelard, hardly like the kind of man who would feel remorse for his actions or seek forgiveness. Cainan had said part of the reason for his return was to set things right with his parents, but was that even the truth? Abelard had every reason to doubt his word at this point, but perhaps he ought to give the young cat more of a chance; show good faith and benevolence over distrust.
Abelard remembered the way Cainan had seemed so indifferent when he told him that his parents were no longer living in Defiance. If Cainan truly wanted to set things right with the Wirths, this hardly seemed like the reaction such news ought to garner from the young cat. Add to it the fact that he'd hardly seemed interested in finding out where they currently lived. But maybe that was simply relief, knowing he wouldn't have to confront them – at least not yet.
What if they had still been in town? Would Cainan actually have confronted them then? Tried to reconcile? Abelard couldn't help but wonder about that. The impression he currently had of Cainan's character told him that he likely wouldn't have, but perhaps the young cat still had more surprises left in him, if his charitable act was any indication…
"There, that's the worst of it," Abelard heard Elsa saying in her unbothered voice. Perhaps not the most comforting tone, but Cainan seemed to have survived. "Now, what exactly happened to you?"
"Work accident," Cainan muttered vaguely, which surprised Abelard. Their eyes met, but Cainan didn't hold eye contact for long as he soon averted his gaze. Was that a look of guilt on the young cat's face? His ears laid back against his head as he turned to face upwards, momentarily startling Abelard as his blank upwards stare made him look like he just might be dead.
"I see. Well, you better not be too active until the wound has started to properly heal. I'll wrap your leg up now," Elsa told him, as usual sounding almost bored as she set to work with the bandages. Cainan laid quite still as she worked, before Elsa finally started packing her things away. "Now where-?"
"Elsa, may I please have a word with Mr. Wirth?" Abelard asked, cutting in before his sister could finish her question. She turned towards him momentarily, looking at him in silent disapproval, but she simply nodded as she finished packing up, leaving with her bag. Abelard and Cainan both watched her leave, before the younger cat turned to Abelard. He sat up in his half-dressed state, looking down at his bandaged leg.
"She did a good job," Cainan said calmly as he sat there, using his arms to prop himself up into a seated position. The white cat's tufted ears folded back against his head again when he met Abelard's eyes. "I-… Are you going to yell at me again?"
"Maybe… I would very much like to, Mr. Wirth. But before I do, I suppose I'd best ask you why you did it." Abelard was speaking with a forced calm tone, not quite as natural as Elsa's, but he was trying his best to be civil.
"Did what?" Cainan wondered aloud, his voice once again quite small. Seemingly he hadn't yet forgotten the look on Abelard's face and the way he'd grabbed him up by the church. Once again, he asked, "What did I do?"
Walking over to stand by Cainan's side, Abelard looked down past his nose at him. How clueless was he really? Abelard couldn't be certain, but he supposed using his words was the best way to know for sure. "I heard… some things about you while I was in town today."
"You did…?" Cainan laid back down on the operating table, looking past Abelard straight up at the ceiling. "So what was it? How bad were the things the locals had to say about me?"
Hearing this response, Abelard found himself hesitating. It would seem like Cainan was either fully aware of what was likely said or he was simply expecting the worst. Once again, Abelard found himself jumping to conclusions; odds were that he knew that the truth would be shared around. Abelard even remembered him talking about it briefly the previous day. "Is it true that you stole from your parents when you ran away?"
"No. No, I left with barely anything other than the clothes I was wearing." Cainan sat up again and looked into Abelard's eyes. Abelard found himself staring back into those pale green orbs, trying his best to look for any kind of tell. He was looking for something – anything – that might indicate that Cainan was still lying; a flick of his ear, a twitch of his eye, breaking eye contact, something!
But Abelard spotted nothing of the sort.
"Father, Arbogast, I know I haven't been honest from the start and that-… For that I apologize." Cainan stared straight into Abelard's eyes as he spoke, holding eye contact for once. "Especially when you were so kind as to give me a job and all. I know apologizing doesn't magically change things, but since you gave me that job at the church, I know I ought to start with a clear conscience, right?"
Abelard fell silent and just stared down at Cainan, though he did angle his head down slightly to properly look at him. When he didn't get a response from Abelard, Cainan continued. "I honestly didn't steal as much as a penny from my parents when I left, I don't know where that rumor came from. I know it won't count for much, but I swear by it. Can you forgive me for not being honest from the start, Father Arbogast?"
The sincerity in Cainan's voice caught Abelard so off-guard that he was left speechless. It was especially jarring, given how it contrasted with the way the young cat had spoken up until this point; always shifty, always secretive or speaking in a jesting fashion. But this time around Abelard could tell the white cat wasn't playing a trick on him – he just knew it. He sounded genuinely sorry. "I-… Yes, Mr. Wirth, I forgive you. Now, will you promise to be honest with me from now on? If you'll be in my employ, I'd dare say it's the least you can do."
"Of course. If there's anything else, just ask, Father Arbogast." Cainan carefully swung his legs around till he sat up properly, letting his bare, white-furred legs dangle off the edge of the operating table. Abelard watched him for a moment, before reluctantly handing him his blue denim pants, the slashed pant leg left reddened from Cainan's blood.
"Do you have anything else to wear? Actually, speaking of, where are you really residing right now?" It was something Abelard had been wondering about, and also something he still had the worst assumptions about, based on the younger cat acting as shifty as he did. Had this been something else that he'd been lying about?
Once again, Cainan's tufted ears laid back against his head as he didn't meet Abelard's eyes. "I have something else, it's in my car, and… that's also where I've been living for a while now."
"You've been living out of your car?" Abelard asked in stunned disbelief as he stared at Cainan, who was trying to slip his pants back on. He managed fine for himself, though once he was back on the floor, Cainan seemed hesitant to move about too much, likely heeding Elsa's words.
"I have, yeah… It's all I really have left right now – well, besides all the stuff inside it," Cainan replied, going back to that casual tone that Abelard had grown accustomed to by now.
"You stupid boy," Abelard almost spat, which quickly garnered the young cat's attention again. He looked confused, perhaps slightly hurt, but before Cainan could say a word, Abelard continued. "Why didn't you take me up on my offer when I gave you the option of letting you stay here? Why in the world did you decide you were better off staying in your car of all things?"
"I don't know…" was the half-muttered response Abelard got as Cainan looked at the floor. "You were already helping me, I didn't want to be more of a burden than-"
"Than what? Did it not once occur to you that I was offering you something because I wanted to help ease your own burden?" Abelard asked, unable to shake the irritation that was brought on by Cainan seemingly being too prideful to take up an offer like that. "Listen, Mr. Wirth, if it's a matter of your personal pride, I'd suggest you let go of it. Pride is-"
"One of the Seven Deadly Sins, I know," Cainan sighed. He took a tentative step towards Abelard, grunting in discomfort. Nevertheless he managed to walk around a bit, although not in a very elegant or even natural fashion. In a rather bitter tone, Cainan added, "My parents told me all about those, don't you worry…"
"As they should," Abelard snorted in response as he watched Cainan. "Now, if I extend the offer to you again… Would you like to stay here with us, or would you rather go back to staying in your car all by your lonesome?"
The white cat turned away and looked at nothing, seemingly. Abelard could tell he was thinking it all over. Cainan was a strange one, Abelard rarely understanding what was going through his mind. What was he thinking right now? What thoughts were going through that head of his? How did he weigh his options? What would he consider to be a good option at this point in time? Was this young cat really so stubborn that he'd rather go back to living out of his car? If he were, Abelard wasn't sure if he should consider it admirable or infuriating.
"I-…" Cainan turned back towards Abelard, offering a small smile. "I'd like to stay here, please. Thank you…"
Cainan actually sounded grateful, almost relieved even. And more importantly, he finally seemed ready to be honest, though this didn't mean Abelard had no more doubts about the young cat. But the feeling that Cainan was starting to be well and truly honest was a good one that started putting some of Abelard's reservations about the white cat at ease… some of them at least.
"Very well, Mr. Wirth. Now, where is your car exactly? My brother-in-law and I can fetch your things for you, if you're going to stay here," Abelard said in a rather business-like manner as the door swung open. And speak of the devil…
Stepping into the embalming room, Bobby shot the two a curious glance. A heavyset shorter cat, Bobby was clad in a casual outfit of beige pants, a white button-up shirt and a brown sweater vest that contrasted so with his light grayish fur. The English cat offered Cainan a small smile as he approached. "Ah, gentlemen. You must be Mr. Wirth, we've heard a great deal about you, young man."
"You have…?" Abelard noticed Cainan shooting him a curious glance, before he turned back to Bobby to shake hands. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.…?"
"Bobby Bastion at your service, Mr. Wirth." As the two of them got introduced, Abelard just remained where he was, not saying a word as he simply stood by. Bobby gave a chuckle. "Oh, that's right, I'm English, I can see you're dying to ask. I see Elsa got you put back together properly. She's a right, proper miracle woman, she is."
"I'd say, sir. I'll have to properly thank her," Cainan said, offering Bobby a smile, then offering Abelard one as well. "Well, I'd best get going – I need to retrieve my things-"
"With that kind of injury? I think not," Abelard cut in, speaking for the first time in a small while. He'd crossed his arms, scowling at the white cat. "Bobby and I can retrieve your things. Just tell us where exactly you've been staying and we'll head out and get your belongings."
It wasn't up for debate with Abelard. He and Bobby walked Cainan back out of the embalming room and up the stairs, while he recounted where he'd left his car. He managed just fine, though his gait was still somewhat stunted. Abelard and Bobby guided him further into the house to the living room. Almost immediately Cainan laid down on the couch in front of the large fireplace, looking quite comfortable.
"Well, you look like you feel right at home," Bobby said, seemingly amused. "Just hang tight, Mr. Wirth, we'll have your stuff back here in a jiffy."
Leaving the young cat in the living room, Abelard and Bobby made their way outside, exiting through the front door. Stepping onto the front-porch, they found Elsa seated by herself on the swing seat by the other door that led onto the porch.
"Hello, love. Everything alright?" Bobby asked her. The blonde cat had been staring off at nothing in particular, seemingly, but she slowly turned her head and offered her husband and brother the slightest of smiles.
"Oh, yes, everything is fine." Abelard nodded. He was sure this would be a lot for Elsa to get used to. He knew he ought to have discussed it with her beforehand. Ever since returning from the war, Elsa hadn't handled big crowds, strangers and noise very well.
Abelard moved along the front porch over to his sister and took a seat beside her on her right. They used to sit out here a lot when they were younger. Of course, Abelard and Elsa hadn't spent much time together as children, given that Abelard was already considered a young man when she was born. "So, Elsa… I should let you know that I did offer to let Mr. Wirth stay with us for the time being. Would that be alright with you? If not, we can most certainly try and figure out a different arrangement. I'm sure someone in town might be willing to house him, if I asked."
Elsa didn't respond right away, averting her gaze again, seemingly settling on the still mostly barren flowerbeds in front of the porch. Bobby made his way over to the two, standing beside the swing seat on Elsa's left side. He put his right arm around her to gently give her shoulder a light squeeze. After a moment's silence, Bobby said, "I take it you'd prefer we did just that."
"No, he can stay, Bobby. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine, Abe," she told Abelard upon turning to look at him as well, using that nickname she had used so often when they were younger. No one else ever used that nickname for him – he wouldn't let anyone else use it. Abelard wasn't convinced, however. He knew the reason Elsa in particular had returned to Defiance was to avoid all the things she now struggled with. Cainan was a stranger and Abelard knew just having him around for an extended period of time could be a struggle for her. "Really, I wouldn't want him to be all alone. And besides, we have so many spare rooms…"
It was true; the Arbogast residence had several guest rooms; even when Abelard and Elsa still lived here with their parents, they'd had several rooms that had occasionally seen occupancy from relatives over the years. But since Abelard had inherited the house, the funeral home hadn't seen many visitors. Their aunts and uncles had since passed away, and their cousins didn't live in Defiance anymore, a few living quite far away.
Bobby offered his wife a small smile, letting go of her shoulder. "We'll figure it all out, darling. And if your brother is right for once, he won't be our problem."
Abelard offered a short nod, though the more time passed, he wasn't so sure about his assessment of Cainan. He was a hard one to figure out, that much was for certain, and that was more or less the only thing Abelard knew for sure about the young Turkish Angora.
"He doesn't seem so bad to me. Your mad ramblings made him sound like a bloody hooligan," Bobby noted when the two of them left the funeral home together on foot. Abelard hadn't noticed it when he and Cainan made their way here, but now he saw the small trail of blood left behind by the younger cat's injury. Who knew how much blood he'd actually lost? Just another reason for him to take it easy and recuperate for a few days.
"Well, you also didn't speak to him as much as I have… or at least not with the way he acted when we first met," Abelard grumbled at the gray cat by his side as they climbed the small hill. Cainan's directions had been rather vague, but armed with the younger cat's keys, he and Bobby had set off to retrieve his automobile. "But even I will admit, he's shown improvement since Elsa got her hands on him."
"Perhaps he was truly fearing for his life. Imagine that, dying in an embalming room of all places," Bobby chortled, apparently amused by the thought. "What was so bad about this boy anyway?"
Although Abelard would rather talk about anything else, he still relayed the first couple of interactions he'd had with Cainan to Bobby, making sure to go into extra detail compared to when he'd explained over dinner the previous night. However, Abelard chose to mercifully steer clear of the apparently vicious rumor he'd heard from Mr. Weaver. That rumor in itself might prove an issue, but how did one dispel a rumor like that? Abelard wasn't sure what to believe anymore, but he wanted to keep that to himself for now, at least until he knew for sure what to believe.
Abelard was willing to give Cainan the benefit of the doubt, and yet he still had his reservations about the young cat…
"So it all comes down to him being a bit secretive, is that it?" Bobby asked after Abelard had explained himself, sounding rather unimpressed. "It almost sounds like you were looking for an excuse to not believe him, you know that?"
Abelard scowled and gave a snort. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I don't know, I just think you may have jumped to conclusions, that's all." The two continued on their way in silence for a bit, walking past the rolling hills.
Abelard cast a glance up at the bright blue sky. The sun was shining brightly, the clouds having mostly cleared out by now, though a few banks of white were still rolling along here and there. The spring breeze rustled the crops near the two, the swaying plants giving the impression of waves akin to what one would expect out at sea. Abelard hadn't actually seen the ocean; the closest he'd gotten was seeing the Mississippi River being particularly tumultuous. Even so, the imagery still stirred memories in him as he watched the green plants swaying.
"You don't think I was being fair, is that it? You know as well as I what kind of scum we've had to deal with," Abelard finally said, his eyes settling on a dark spot, which he guessed to be some of Cainan's blood. A macabre sight to be sure, but also a reminder that he had accidentally hurt the young cat. "And quite frankly, I feel as though my concerns were warranted. He kept secrets from me and he lied to me."
"I think you're just taking it personally. He's still young," Bobby told Abelard in an exasperated tone, rolling his eyes. "Young people do stupid things, whether they realize it or not. The boy was probably just afraid of looking like a foul git."
Abelard furrowed his brow as he glanced over at the gray cat by his side. "How so?"
"Well, for someone with nothing, coming into town and asking for help is a bit embarrassing, innit? You said he ran away as a wee lad, I bet he feels as though he has to be able to take care of himself." Abelard fell silent; he hadn't actually considered that. He couldn't see why asking for help when one needed it would be so embarrassing, or why Cainan had felt the need to lie about it.
Thinking back on what he'd been like at that age, Abelard tried to remember if he would have been more or less willing to ask for help. He'd had to grow up fast, or rather… it had just happened. Back then, Abelard's life had revolved around faith – in many ways it still did. But had he been the kind of person to ask for help?
"I suppose… In any case, Bobby, I'm willing to help him out for now," Abelard half-muttered as the two made it past the treeline that acted as a natural border for the area where the church was located. Out front, Abelard saw Wendell still at work with the lawn, the grass around the church and even one of the groves had been cut neatly. He was busily working the area closer to one of the smaller grave sites.
"Ah, Abelard, Mr. Bastion… How's the boy? Did he make it?" the tuxedo cat called as the two got closer, tone mildly sarcastic. He was using the same scythe that Cainan had, and Abelard couldn't help but notice that the older cat was swinging it with a lot more grace and ease than Cainan had. Probably just skill and experience, Abelard thought to himself.
"He did indeed. Elsa took proper care of his leg," Abelard replied stiffly as he and Bobby stopped by the groundskeeper. "It's nothing to worry about, but we shall see how fast he heals. We might be out of a new groundskeeper for a few days, however."
"Fine by me," Wendell snorted, before he resumed work, being meticulous enough to cut the grass right by the headstones, despite how cumbersome a scythe's large blade could be. Wendell worked the tool with such effortless swings and ease, it was rather impressive to watch. "Just make sure when he gets back, it's in one piece, Abelard."
"Will do…" he grunted, before he and Bobby continued on their way.
"Wait, so you actually did give him the job? Well look at you…" Bobby mused as they left the church behind. "I did find it curious that Elsa said the injury was a work accident."
"I did. I'm willing to help the boy. And besides, Wendell vouched for him – it was his idea," Abelard firmly told the shorter cat. "We shall see how well he does as groundskeeper. I just hope he won't be wasting my time."
"Oh, God forbid he doesn't start out perfect." Abelard shot Bobby a look when he used the Lord's name in vain, the gray cat simply chuckling.
The two continued onward in silence for a bit, moving away from the church up past the small hill and further away. The walk took them to the very outskirts of Defiance, further away than most of the farmhouses that made up the small community. If Cainan's instructions were accurate, they shouldn't be too far from the young cat's car by now. He hadn't been the most clear, but at least Abelard thought they might be able to properly find their way to it. It was clear the young cat hadn't been in Defiance for quite some time, given how vague his directions had been.
The two of them did eventually find the black car parked amongst the trees of a small grove.
"This is it? How on Earth did the boy ever afford this thing?" Bobby wondered out loud as they approached. Though a few bugs were buzzing around in the air, it wasn't nearly as bad as it got during the height of summer in Defiance. Having lived in this town for so long, Abelard knew just how bad it could get, bordering on unbearable some years.
"That is an excellent question. How indeed…?" Abelard noted coolly, his mistrust towards Cainan rearing its ugly head once more. Once he'd unlocked the door, Bobby got onto the driver's seat, while Abelard seated himself beside the stockier cat. Casting a look over the backrest, Abelard scoffed when he saw the utter mess in the back.
It most certainly did look like Cainan had been telling the truth about living out of his car, given how much stuff he had stashed back there; boxes, bags and suitcases holding who knew what. "This boy… How foolish was he to think he could live out of this thing?"
"He seems to be a stubborn lad – you two have that in common," Bobby casually said as the car's engine roared to life, the black Lafayette soon rolling out of the clearing and onto the dirt road.
"I'm nothing like him," Abelard told the other cat, shooting him a look. The gray cat barely seemed to pay attention, simply focusing on the road. Abelard turned his head and glanced out the window at the cornfields that slowly rolled past.
For the first time, he started to try and put himself in Cainan's place, really trying to imagine how hard life had been for him, living the way he had. Abelard glanced over his shoulder again at the mess on the backseat. Clearly living on the road hadn't been easy or comfortable. Abelard couldn't even begin to imagine what sleeping in this car night after night was like.
But then again…
This was a rather nice-looking car. Clearly Cainan had managed to get his hands on some money at one point or another, unless…
Abelard turned back to face the road, scowling. No, he wouldn't have…
Would he?
He was trying his best not to immediately assume the worst about Cainan. Surely, there had to be a logical explanation for this – one Abelard would ask for when they got back. He couldn't even begin to speculate on how a young man who now lived out of his car had managed to get a hold of a car like this to begin with. Though Abelard couldn't pretend to know much about automobiles, he could tell this was a rather nice model, likely an expensive one.
The ride back to the funeral home was a mostly silent one. Abelard wasn't in the mood to talk, though Bobby did start humming when they got closer, much to Abelard's annoyance. But they got the black car back, driving around to the small garage where their hearse was parked. It was where they brought bodies in through the garage door and into the embalming room in the basement.
Seeing as neither of them knew what to bring inside, Abelard and Bobby simply shut the car off and made their way back around to the front door. They found Elsa was still sitting on the swing seat, the blonde cat offering the two a silent greeting.
"I'll go check on him," Abelard said shortly as Bobby turned to join his wife. As Bobby sat down on the swing seat, Abelard stepped into the foyer. Wiping his feet on the doormat, Abelard continued into the hall beyond where the staircase that led upstairs was located. However, he set his sights on the living room where he found Cainan resting in the armchair Abelard considered to be his own favorite.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Wirth?" he grunted at the young cat, who was still wearing his ruined denim pants. He seemed quite content at the moment.
"I'm fine, I'm fine…" The younger cat shot Abelard a tentative glance that made him raise an eyebrow. "Did you find my stuff?"
"That we did, Mr. Wirth. Tell me something…" Abelard saw the younger cat recoiling slightly, clearly bracing himself for another hard-to-answer question. "How did you afford a car like that? It seems like a strange possession to have when you have nothing else… You didn't steal it, did you?"
"Again with the tone of suspicion…" Cainan sighed, sounding almost amused. "Well, to put your suspicions to rest, Father Arbogast, I very much purchased it with my own money – back when I actually had money."
When he had money? That was certainly a curious statement, at least Abelard thought so. He sat down on the couch diagonal to the armchair the white cat occupied, and watched him curiously. He once more found himself intently staring at Cainan's face, looking for any sort of tell. "Are you insinuating that you used to have deep pockets, Mr. Wirth?"
The white cat didn't answer right away, their eyes meeting momentarily. He cleared his throat, but gave a reluctant nod. "Yeah, I used to do fairly well for myself, actually… That was back when I lived in St. Louis. I used to have my own place to live and everything."
"And now you're homeless…" Abelard noted calmly. "What happened exactly?"
Cainan opened his mouth to answer when footsteps could be heard in the foyer between the living room and the front-porch. He laid his ears back against his head and muttered, "Not now… please."
Abelard gave a scoff and crossed his arms. Rising to his feet, Abelard moved around the coffee table and leaned towards Cainan. In a hushed tone, he said, "You do realize you'll be telling them eventually, don't you? I will not tolerate you lying to my sister and brother-in-law while you stay here… I trust you'll be telling us soon enough. For now, I'd best be getting back to the church."