Jacob opened the door to his parents' house as quietly as he could. He slipped in and eased it shut behind him.
...click...
"Oh my God he's back!" His mother's voice scraped through the house.
Jacob winced and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. Footsteps thundered from the TV room and then both his parents burst into the entryway.
Jacob's mother came first. She was a bustling woman who seemed to constantly be in motion. Her flailing arms and twitchy head reminded Jacob of jungle birds he'd seen in nature docs. She was a teacher at St John's Elementary School, where Jacob had inevitably gone to school, which meant every summer she had the same two months off that he did.
His father rounded the corner a moment later. He was a balding man with huge, bulging frog eyes behind his horn-rimmed spectacles. He wore slacks and a blue button down shirt, which was the same thing he wore in his office at Clyde & Reddinger Chartered Professional Accountants, sitting on the couch watching TV, and while cleaning the house. The last of which he did every Saturday morning, wearing big rubber gloves that went up to his elbows and safety goggles, jumping and leaping through the house while Brahms blasted from the surround sound system in the TV room, which Jacob could hear, and feel, from his bedroom upstairs.
His mom threw her flailing arms around him and squeezed him as hard as she could, which wasn't very hard at all. Jacob suffered it. His dad hovered around them for a moment like a big bee.
"Thank God you're alright!" His mom said.
"Alouette, dear, Jacob's dirty." His dad said.
His mom sprung off him with a squawk. Both his parents looked him up and down in mild horror.
Damn. Jacob had been so worried about getting home as quickly as possible he'd forgotten to clean himself off.
"Dirt all over your face, your shoes look like you've been trucking through mudflats, and, my God, your knee!"
Jacob looked down. The left kneecap of his jeans was torn away. Through it was a bloody scrape. With all the adrenaline and craziness from the fight, he could barely feel it.
"I'll get the med kit." His dad said.
Meanwhile, his mother herded Jacob into the kitchen.
"What happened?" She crooned. "Did you get in a fight? If it was that Carr boy again I swear I will go directly to the school board this time!"
"No!" Jacob said. "It wasn't him. I didn't get in a fight, I..."
He'd lied to his parents plenty of times. It was second nature to him by now. It had to be, otherwise he'd never be able to do anything. But now he hesitated for the first time since... well probably since he'd been ten. This was different, because all those other times what he lied about hadn't really been dangerous, hadn't really been a problem. But this time, he'd almost died. That warranted telling them the truth, didn't it?
He opened his mouth.
"If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you. Do you understand me?"
He clamped his mouth shut and swallowed. "I just realized I was going to be late and I tripped over the sidewalk." There. The perfect lie. It was just the sort of 'random accident' his parents always said could happen when you were outside.
"Well, just be thankful you didn't get hurt worse." His mother sniffed. "And yes, you were late. You, young man, are grounded. No leaving the property for the next week."
The 'property' was their term for the house and the small backyard and the short front walk.
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"I have school tomorrow."
"Of course. But after that." His mother shook her head.
And the worst part of it was that she would be home throughout the days once school was finished. He was accustomed to slipping out in the middle of the day when 'grounded' and both of them were out. Often times he didn't really do anything, just walked around the neighbourhood, or went to Luke's house to play games, or to Fred's Convenience to get something to eat. Anything to get out.
He sighed. It was going to be a long summer.
Once his parents were done examining, 'healing,' and scolding him—three procedures he bore with a half-attentive autopilot he'd developed after being subject to them for years—they 'let' him go up to his room.
It was only when he shut the door and lay down on his bed and was finally by himself that he let out a shuddering breath. He opened up his laptop, put on his headphones and resumed the new Netflix nature doc, Life in Colour, he'd been watching last night.
He could never tell his parents what had actually happened. All their fussing and craziness just made him more upset about things, and if he got any more upset about what had just happened he thought he would cry.
He was seventeen now, not twelve. He couldn't be crying about stuff anymore. The last time he'd come home crying had been in grade seven: that same incident his mother had mentioned earlier and remembered with laser-like accuracy.
There'd been a big showoff in his class named Tommy Carr, who at twelve and a half already had acne all over his face and stubble on his chin. In science class, the teacher had asked a question about the food chain, and Tommy had eagerly shot his hand up and blurted out the wrong answer. People in the class had snickered, but that was all part of Tommy's game. For a kid like him, any attention was good attention.
Jacob had put his hand up and had answered the question correctly, and later at recess Tommy had cornered him by the swing set.
"Think I'm fuckin' stupid, do you?" He'd shoved Jacob off the swing set. Jacob hadn't even thought about the other boy when he'd answered the question. When he said as much Tommy's reply had been "You think I don't matter, then?"
In the grand scheme of things, the beating hadn't been that bad. Compared to the craziness they showed in teen movies, it was a joke. But those things only happened in movies, and worse than the actual beating was the shock that he'd actually just gotten beat up in the schoolyard. At that point in his life he'd thought that—along with so many other things—only ever happened in movies.
He'd gone home crying, and had told his parents. Big mistake. They'd made such a fuss that Tommy had got suspended, and the entire school had to go through a gruelling two-hour bullying assembly. Everyone had known it was because of Jacob, and it had taken the rest of the school year for people to stop ignoring him and snickering behind his back.
After that, he couldn't afford to get his parents involved with anything at school. It was just another reason he had to be able to do things on his own. Fly the nest. If he had been able to stand up to Tommy himself he wouldn't have to rely on his parents. But he hadn't, because he was a chicken.
He paused Life in Colour because he was only half paying attention and he didn't want to waste it. He laid back on his bed and sighed. That's why hopping that fence had been so important. It had been taking control, making the courageous decision, and if he could just take control of his own life then everything would be alright. Wouldn't it?
It all seemed so stupid now, insignificant compared to the insanity of that fight with the tiger. Who cared about hopping a fence? He'd nearly died!
He looked around his room. The walls were covered with posters of vistas around the world and some of his favourite anime. The bookshelf took up most of one wall, with an entire row dedicated to nature books. His all time favourite book there in the middle: a signed copy of Sir David Attenborough's first autobiography. It was all there. All perfectly normal. Smelled normal. Looked normal. Felt normal. Lying there, he could almost believe it hadn't happened.
But then there was the stinging pain in his knee.
He remembered yelling at the tiger as it closed in on Camilla. He covered his eyes and cringed even though there was no one else in the room. Christ, what had he been thinking? He could have died!
But it had been courageous. And it sure beat hopping a fence. The thrill. The adrenaline rush that exploded through him the moment he'd called out Hey! and then later when he'd tossed the fence shard to Camilla. Was that what it felt like to be courageous? To take action? To make decisions for himself?
Jacob smiled. It felt good. Really good. Sure Camilla had done most of the work, but he'd helped. He'd actually helped.
Jacob smacked his forehead. Camilla had been watching him at the fence! Everything had happened so quickly he only just pieced it together. Why the hell had she been following him? Had she known a tiger was going to jump out of nowhere at him? And what had that hole in reality been? And that other world behind it? He'd seen enough isekai to have too many ideas.
He sat up on his bed. He had to ask her. Corner her and get some answers. What if the tiger came back? What if something else popped out?
"If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you. Do you understand me?"
Despite the threat, he still had to. It would be a good chance to make up for not hopping the fence. He wasn't going to be a powerless chicken this time.
Tomorrow he was going to confront her and make her explain everything.
Even if she killed him.