Chapter Twenty-Three

I would be belaboring the point, I think, to say yet again that the resilience of humans never ceased to amaze me. I still felt ready to fall apart, and yet Fauve seemed her normal self again, now that the question of why I had been avoiding her for the last few days had been answered.

This leads to another conclusion about humans:

Certainty of doom is better than uncertain happiness.

When dealing with humans, knowing what is going wrong is almost always preferable to not knowing what is going wrong. Humans are a very active species, even those who are not physically active tend to be mentally so, I cannot say how much of this is nature versus culture, but as a species they tend to be very self observant. ‘What am I doing?’ ‘Where am I going?’ ‘What am I accomplishing?’ ‘What am I doing wrong or right’ ‘Who am I’. They are a race in constant flux to the point where one of their great philosophers once said:

‘An unexamined life is not worth living.’ The very notion of simply ‘being’ without reflection, causes them to doubt the worth of the way they live. Looking back now, following Fauve up the stairs while she bounced on her heels and hummed like everything was just fine, I wondered how much it bothered her that I seemed to draw myself back from our connection for seemingly no reason.

The stairs creaked a little on our way up, though we did move with care, she never let go of my hand the entire way, like she was afraid I’d be one of the ghosts out of their stories, just drifting away as some ephemeral shade.

Her hand was sweaty too, humans are very sweaty creatures, not that I minded much, the hairy cannot critique the sweaty, after all, especially when Rebecca was so patient with my occasional shedding of orange and black fur around the family house.

I sat down at the table and Fauve retrieved the cup with the name ‘Bailey Walker’ on it. I was quiet while she poured the coffee. It was a nice gesture on her part, it reminded me of the way Rebecca always did the coffee prep when Fauve was asleep.

I didn’t type this up until later, having neglected to bring my datapad, but I couldn’t help but notice the little things. Fauve stood at the coffee maker and scooped the grounds out of a fabric pouch. With my sensitive nose I could experience it as she never could, and I tell you, it was wonderful enough that I could have believed that the old human superstitions had some merit. How else could something so rich and smooth envelop my nose?

But I digress, she scooped the same way her mother did, not with a gentle tilt, but with a sharp flick of her wrist designed to hurl the grounds down into the brown paper filter, thus creating an audible and pleasant ‘swish’ sound that also stirred up the scent a little bit more.

She had the water ready, and I knew at once she planned this. It had all been laid out with the idea that I would tell her the truth, that everything would be all right. That was why she was fairly bouncing on the balls of her feet and humming with a smile on her face while she worked.

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For all of her father in her, the coffee making was done just like her mother. It was a tranquil, pleasant air about her which I have to admit… I missed seeing.

I didn’t really know quite how to explain it, but that this kind of generational cycle was the stuff traditions were made of. While I watched Fauve work, I could easily imagine her own daughter doing it one day, insisting her spouse get out of the way and let her do it.

It seemed to bring her joy, this simple little thing she was doing for someone else, and it made my earlier cowardice about telling her the truth just… so much worse.

I bowed my head and my tail curled under the chair in which I sat. “Sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I just didn’t want to upset you.” I said, but that was a lie too, at least… at least it was a half truth.

Fauve tapped on the countertop while she waited, bopping around to some music she hummed that I had no chance of recognizing. She didn’t answer me at first, she just waited until the coffee was mostly done and filled first my cup, then her own. A few drops sizzled as they hit the hot plate beneath before she could replace the wide glass pot.

“Is that all?” Fauve asked without looking my way.

‘How did she know?!’ Human social perception’s heights just seemed to get worse or… or better, really.

I lowered my head a little bit more. “No. Yes. I-I didn’t want to deal with this either. I didn’t mean to worry you, really. I just didn’t know what to do. This is all so new, and I like you all a lot, I didn’t expect that. But I do and I didn’t want to disappoint you, or see you get upset… I don’t know.” I used all the air I had in my body to spit those words out, and finally wheezed my way into morose silence, all I managed to mumble out while she brought the cups over was, “I told you all before… I’m kind of a coward.”

What I did not expect was her response to my words, she set the coffee down and flung her arms around my neck and head and squeezed as tight as she could. Had it been Boatswain or Byron, I do believe I might have died.

As it was, her hold was fairly tight, thankfully my familiarity with hugs was such that I at least knew this was one of the most important signs of affection a human could offer. She rubbed the top of my head and my tail instantly started to swish back and forth, she rubbed the top of her head against the top of mine. “Big idiot. You said you’re an alien, but that sounded pretty human, and pretty male too.” She snorted a little.

“You had me worried sick.” She added, “I know I’m just a kid, but I think things will work out. You just have to find a way, and it’s like my dad says.” Her voice deepened a little when she cleared her throat and she straightened up, holding one hand on her hip, closing both eyes, then holding her other hand up at chest height with her pointer finger extended while the rest balled up into a fist she said, ‘There is a solution to every problem, it’s just a matter of finding it.’ so just find it.”

“What if I don’t? I don’t want to leave.” I said honestly, and she looked at me cockeyed, like I was being an idiot again.

“Then we better get a lot more of these in.” Fauve said and hugged me again.

There’s something about human affection that makes for a powerful sense of determination. When she hugged me that second time after reassuring me there was a solution to be had, I just… I somehow knew she was right, I’d find a way, I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail.

It was impossible, after all, I had a family on my side.

The coffee tasted extra rich that night, is all else I will say.