7 Days in November, Friday Part 4

Jon left Java, Missouri, in September. He left a note that explained how little he felt connected in Java, how much he hated school, and how badly he needed change. He and Jace, his girlfriend, were heading west to promises of a new life and happiness. He said his goodbyes in quiet blue ink, and that was it. No more, no less. Jon was gone.

Farly kept the note. He kept everything Jon sent back. At the beginning of November, a postcard appeared in the mail. It was a picture of the skyline of Gateway City, but postmarked in Arizona. They came faster after that, three or four a week. Back-dated, they created a path across the Southwest, and up the West Coast. Jon sent each postcard only to Farly. Farly worried each postcard would be the last.

Farly kept the postcards in a box under his bed, and on his bad days he’d pull out the box and read through them. Friday’s card was a picture of the Space Needle, in Seattle. Jon and Jace had settled in the area, and he seemed happy. The card read:

Farly,

After work, Jace and I rode the ferry to Bainbridge Island. It’s really nice. I wish you could have seen it. I wanted to get a postcard, but I couldn’t find one.

Jon

And that was it. Short and always a little impersonal. Farly flipped the card over in his hands a few times. He put the card in the box with the rest and slid the box back under his bed. He stood and stretched and went out of his room, to the kitchen.

Farly’s stomach heaved. Jon was important, but the postcard was low on the long list of things he needed to worry about that day. He opened the fridge and took a soda, and sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen. He listened as Ty climbed the steps from the basement. He didn’t bother turning to look.

Ty hugged him from behind, resting her head against his. “You got a postcard from Jon today.”

“I know,” Farly said, keeping his eyes on the can in front of him. “I read it already.”

“How is he?” Ty sat down on the stool and turned to face him.

“OK, I guess. He never really says a lot.”

“Hmmm.” Ty tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”

“Bourbon’s in trouble.”

“What’d he do?” She didn’t sound surprised.

“We got caught this morning.”

“Got caught? What were you doing?”

Farly sighed. “Sleeping.”

Ty’s ears twitched. “Guys aren’t allowed to sleep in the same bed?” She asked flatly. It was one of her better tones, her ‘that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life and you should hate yourself for saying it,’ tone. She used it well.

“Most guys don’t spoon.”

“Oh.” Ty dropped her eyes and thought a moment. She smiled. “You guys spoon?”

Farly turned away from her and sighed. “They said they’d talk to him about it when he got home from school. They… they didn’t even look at me.”

“I’m sorry. What’s going to happen?”

Farly folded his arms on the island and rested his head on them. “I dunno. It’s going to be bad, though. You know they once told him AIDS was God’s way of punishing the ‘homosexuals’? That’s how bad it will be.”

Ty scooted close to Farly and rested her head on his shoulder. She put her arms around his back and rubbed his side. “I’m sure he’ll be OK. Bourbon’s a fighter.”

Farly only nodded.

They sat together for a moment. Farly closed his eyes and let his mind drift as Ty did her best to comfort him. Ty was a good sister. He looked nothing like her, a full head shorter than her, he was covered with soft brown fur. His ears folded over and hung against his head. Unlike Ty and their brother, TJ, Farly wasn’t a mix of wolf and fox, but a bunch of different canines. A mutt. Farly moved in with Ty and TJ long before he could remember. His parents were killed in a car accident and Ty’s family gladly adopted him. When he was nine, Ty’s parents died, too, hit by a drunk driver. To that day, Farly couldn’t imagine why Ty was so eager to drive.

Ty was his best friend when he needed her the most, the reason he survived middle school. They rarely fought, and when they did, it was only because they were worried about one another. They were each other’s best support.

“He’ll be OK,” Ty said.

Farly nodded. He let that sink in a moment. “Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” Ty sighed. She leaned back in her stool. “I skipped today.”

“Neat. How’d you get away with that?”

Ty shrugged. “I don’t think I did. They’ll prolly be calling soon.”

“TJ’ll cover for you.”

“He’ll be pissed.”

“Maybe when he finds out why you skipped…”

Ty shook her head. “He’d want me to stop running from it and confront it.”

Farly nodded and scratched thoughtfully behind his ear. “What’d you do today?”

“Just hung out with Furball. Went to the Strip.”

“That sounds nice. What was Furball doing home?”

“The same thing I was. He’s not doing too well.”

Farly tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

Ty started to speak, but the phone cut her off. Farly answered the phone a little more cheerfully than he was. His ears dropped as he listened, his eyes focusing hard on the floor. “No,” he said in a low, pensive voice. “Come over… well, fuck them. Come over.”

Ty drew back. She could guess he was talking to Bourbon, but Farly never cursed, not even in his worst moods. She decided to let Farly deal with this one alone, and she climbed off her stool. Farly grabbed her by the arm, and she turned back. He looked at her, the phone still pressed to his ear, a look on his face that screamed, “please don’t leave me now.” He pulled her back and rested his head on her chest. On the phone, Ty could hear Bourbon’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. He sounded panicked. She hugged Farly and ran her fingers through his head-fur, and waited for the conversation to wind down.