112
Tank
“Okay, let’s figure out where your mom is,” I say as I pull into a diner. It’s still before nine a. m.
“Her vehicle wasn’t at her trailer.”
“Where does she work?” I park and get out.
“She teaches art at a community center, and makes jewelry and other crafts to sell to tourists. Dreamcatchers, wind chimes, stuff like that.”
“She makes a living doing that?”
Foxfire shrugged. “Enough. She’s never held down a job, as long as I’ve known her. But, the way she lives, she doesn’t need much.” We sit down and open our menus.
“The thugs who tore up her place-they probably spooked her. Does she have friends she could’ve run to?”
“I have no idea. Could you maybe sniff her out? You know”-she drops her voice”in furry form?”
“In public?”
She shrugs, “I could get you a collar and leash.”
“No.”
“You have any better ideas?”
“We’ll explore on foot. It’s good for you to learn how to use your nose to track, in whatever form.”
“Sounds good.” We order and the food comes, and she tears into her plate. We both got extra orders of meat.
Under the table, Foxfire’s foot rests on mine. When she finishes her meal, I slide her leftover sausage my way, and dig in.
Her foot slides up my inseam, resting on my crotch.
“Careful,” I growl at her.
She just smiles, the sweet curve of her lips making my dick hard. Naughty fox.
I ask the waitress if the cook wouldn’t mind making a few burgers to go, although it’s not their lunch hour yet, and after she brings them, I put them in the truck. When I turn around, Foxfire is heading toward a craft and farmer’s market. It’s early enough it’s sparsely attended. The booths are still getting set up.
“She used to sell here. I’m going to ask them if she’s been around,” she says when I catch up, growling at her for leaving without me.
I ask first. “Excuse me. Do you know where Sandra Hines has her booth?”
The man frowns at me.
“Sunny,” Foxfire adds. “She goes by Sunny. My boyfriend hasn’t met her yet.” She grabs my hand, and the man’s look of suspicion disappears when Foxfire adds, “She’s my mom.”
“Oh yes, Sunny. Usually she’s set up over there. Haven’t seen her since Friday, though.”
“Thank you.” Foxfire tries to hide her disappointment, but I can see the devastation in her eyes.
Fuck. We have to find her mom.
~.~
Foxfire
We do a round of the market. I meet as many of the stall owners as I can. They all agree my mom often shows up to sell there, but not every day. I give them my cell number and ask for a call if they see her.
We take a break to step into a cell phone store. Tank buys me one to replace the one he crushed.
“So what now?” I ask as we leave the store and head for the truck. I lower my voice and wait until a few tourists pass before murmuring, “You wanna do the four-legged thing?”
“I’m not sure it will help. Your mom has been all over this town. Her scent is here. Besides, you have a phone now. if one of her friends spots her they’ll call you.” He puts the truck in gear. “Let’s try her house again, see if we sniff out any clues.”
Back at the trailer, he shifts. I keep a lookout as a huge black wolf sniffs around carefully. It’s amazing how big he is. Just massive. Real wolves are pretty large but he’s taller than them by a head.
He hops up into the bed of the truck, and waits to shift back until I close it up. When he climbs out, fully clothed and breathing hard like he’s run a four-minute mile, I hold up the burger I’ve unwrapped from its paper.
“Who’s a good doggie?”
He snatches the sandwich from my hand and inhales it in one gulp. “Don’t ever call me a dog. Not unless you want a red ass.”
I hand him the bag with the rest of the food from the diner. “Wolfie?”
He shakes his head.
I lean against the truck bed, admiring the flex of his strong jaw as he chews. “I love teasing you.”
“Keep it up, baby. There will be consequences.”
“I love consequences.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. I’ve felt how wet your pussy gets.”
“My foxy bits,” I correct. “That’s what they’re called.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.
Tank shakes his head.
“You know you love it, Big Daddy.”
“Keep talking, baby. I’ll still be on top tonight.”
I turn away to hide my happy grin. Tank finishes his food and uses a water bottle to wash his hands.
I flop onto the truck bed. “Now what?”
“There was something in the trailer. It smelled… I think you should see it.”
Reluctantly, I follow him inside. I should’ve visited my mother more. She drives me crazy, but that’s what family is about. Even though I never lived in this particular trailer, it smells like my childhood. There are a few things I recognize -the stained glass design I helped Sunny make, a small gold statue of Buddha, the Japanese tea set we bought at a thrift store.
“Here,” Tank beckons. Beside a little bench used as a seat and storage he taps a panel and opens a hidden compartment. Out pours a stack of envelopes.
I pick through them. They’re all addressed to Sunny, but only a PO box is listed as the return address. “They’re empty.”
“Recognize the address?”
“No. Why did you think these were important?”
“Because,” Tank says quietly. “They smell like fox.”
~.~
Foxfire
Back in the truck, I finger the address. We took one envelope and put the rest back.
At this point, it’s my only link to my heritage.
It’s lunchtime, and even though he’s already eaten, when we stop for tacos, he orders twenty.
“We might try the community center. Find out if she still works there and if anyone’s seen her.”
I nod. I’m still thinking of those empty envelopes.
“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “We’ll find her.”
“Do you think someone…?” My throat clogs. Even if I don’t visit often, Sunny is family. She’s all I got.
“I think they scared her. She left a message for you and she’s lying low. Foxfire, she’s not a shifter.”
“But what about-” I lift the envelopes.
“Those are the only thing in there that smell like fox.”
“She could be dormant, though. Maybe her fox is like mine-she never felt safe, or protected enough…” My voice trails off at the pity in Tank’s eyes. I can handle being called a weirdo or freak, but don’t fucking pity me.
“I don’t think she’s a shifter. I think you got the gene another way.”
That only leaves my male parent. My missing male parent. Is it possible? The one who made me a fox is the father I never met?
I don’t realize I’ve spoken out loud until Tank answers. “I think it’s the strongest solution. Either way”-he taps the envelopes-“these hold the answer.”
I trace the address again. Large, clumsy handwriting, almost childish, indicating an address in Moab, Utah. The postmark is from three years ago. All this time, and my dad was only six hours away?
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. All that matters is finding Sunny.
“Tank? What are we going to do, when this is all over?”
His face goes blank. “Let’s just take this one day at a time.”
I open my mouth to protest.
“Foxfire?” A familiar voice wafts across the street.
A long-haired woman in a peasant blouse and skirt walks through traffic, completely oblivious to the cars slowing to avoid hitting her. One honks, and I wince.
My mother doesn’t notice. At least, I think it’s my mother. She’s dyed her hair blonde, with pink streaks, making her look younger. “It is you!” She gasps and rushes to me. “I thought I was seeing with my third eye.”
“Sunny.” I run to her.
“Darling!” About a hundred thin bracelets chime on her wrists as she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight, enveloping me with the scent of sage and lavender oil, and her own earthy smell. She still doesn’t believe in wearing deodorant. Or shaving her pits. My super fox senses make that clear. Tank holds his hand near his nose, a stony look on his face. I grimace in sympathy and wipe my face clear of expression before Sunny lets me out of the hug.
“And who is this?” Sunny turns to Tank with a broad smile.
“This is Tank.”
“Oh. what a lovely name. Are you two-?” she looks from me to him. I was expecting this.
“Yes,” I say at the same time Tank says, “No.”
Ouch.
“We’re not in a traditional relationship,” I explain. “We’re just lovers.” Beside me, Tank goes very still. I want to look at him, but don’t dare risk it.
“Oh, how wonderful.” Sunny claps her hand with a tinkling bracelet explosion. “Love should be free from the constructs of society.”
I grab Tank’s hand. “That’s what we thought. I mean, why label it? We’re just having sex.”
“Oh, good.” Sunny lays a hand on Tank’s broad chest. “Yes, I see. Your chakras are out of balance, though.”
I cough. “They should be balanced. We spent all morning working on alignment.”
Sunny closes her eyes. “Your heart chakra is damaged. An early wound, maybe? Something caused you to shut your heart to love.”
“He’s fine.” I bat her hand from his chest, and she steps back. I scoot closer to Tank, who looks stunned. Maybe I should’ve taken the time to warn him a bit more.
“Where have you been?” I ask Sunny. “We went to your trailer and were worried.”
“Oh.” She waves her hand. “That was just a bit of trouble. Some men came by and said I owed them money.”
“Well, did you?”
“I may have borrowed a bit to fix the bus last year. A Mr. Biggs. He’s a nice man, runs a few card games.”
“Mom!” I pull her into an alleyway so our conversation is private. “You got involved with the mob!”
“Really, darling? Well, you know, modern currency is a figment of our imagination. Someone should really explain that to these lenders.”
“Mrs. Hines-” Tank begins.
“Oh, Sunny, call me Sunny. I insist.”
“Your daughter had a visit from a thug. We think it had to do with your trouble.”
“Oh!” Her hand flutters to her chest. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, Sunny.” I sigh. My mom is so clueless, sometimes. I must take after my dad. “Tank took care of him.”
“Really?” Sunny brightens. “Is he swimming with the fishes?”
“Mom!”
“No,” Tank says. “We did not kill him. We questioned him and let him go. Have you had more thugs bother you?”
“No, not since the first visit. ”
“But your trailer was trashed.”
“Yes, I think some kids did that. I’ve been meaning to go back and clean it up.” She waves her hand to the chorus of bangles.
“You don’t think it was the same thugs?”
“No, of course, not. I mean, I paid the loan back. Mr. Biggs said it would be all right.”
“Then, why didn’t you go back to the trailer?”
“Negative energy. I haven’t had a chance to sage it and clear dark energies that came in, so I slept the last couple of nights in Daisy.”
“So you borrowed money, got a reminder, paid it back, but then your trailer was trashed. Did you call the cops?” Tank asks.
“No need, darling. The men who came had very bad energy. Karma will take care of them.”
“Men? There was more than one of them?”
“Yes, two,” Sunny says. “And they seemed interested in you, Foxfire. That’s why I called to warn you.” She looks back and forth between us. “Is something wrong?”
“Let’s go back to your home, Ms. Hines. We have a few things to discuss.”