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Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #1740521
beginning of a story I'm writing for a very good friend of mine
Crimson tossed his hard hat into the passenger seat of his dad's old truck. Living in Arizona wasn't easy for hardworking furs, the heat would get to most of them. Mining work wasn't the most fun of things either. Granted he never did any of the actual labor, he did have to carry a wide assortment of tools to the employees in the catacombs of the quarry; none of them by any means easy to transport. His journeys took him well over four hundred yards into the earth's crust, and said pilgrimages were accompanied by the occasional cascade of sand from the loose dirt not knocked away while carving the passageways. The stifling halls of the mine were dimly lit, a few construction lamps were loosely wrapped around the wooden supports every ten to twenty feet. The sparse light made carrying his loads all the harder, adding the danger of waste boulders and maybe some other contraption that the mining men didn't move out of the way. Coming back up was always a joyous thing, but, for today, he would have liked to stayed below ground.

The black - furred fox was catching the worst of the heat today. The invisible blaze beat down on his dark fur, forcing him to sweat almost unnaturally. His fur was already pretty soaked, but now he looked more like a wet seal than a young fox that ached to get home. He rubbed the top of his head and did a small stretch on the open window of the vehicle. The gentle pull on the top of his back and arms felt almost too good to be real. He felt as though he were swimming in the Dead Sea, small bits of grit rolled into tiny spheres in his sweat. He needed a drink, a really cold one.

He turned and scanned the hastily made sand parking lot for his father, his only means of leaving other than walking a good thirty miles back home. His old man was nowhere to be seen and the allure of a shower was starting to get the best of him. Crimson gave a sigh and climbed into his father's four by four, getting blasted by even more energy-draining heat. He turned his face to the window and shut his eyes, cursing under his breath at his inability to escape this omnipotent inferno. Before he sat all the way in the bucket seats of that shiny red truck of his old man's, he grabbed a towel and pulled it over the polyester fabric that covered the back of both driver and passenger seats.

His dad had recommended the windows be left down just in case a fresh breath of evening air wanted to come through. That had apparently failed as greatly as the air shafts in the mine seeing as it was still blistering hot inside of the Dodge Ram. The fox chewed at his nails and reclined his seat. It felt real nice for a nap...Real nice. But that dream would never come to pass be due to his father's deep laugh. Crimson closed his eyes anyway as he waited for his old man to climb in and get him home to his revitalizing shower. However, although his father's laugh generally meant the end of a conversation, he heard him talking in a raised voice to a few more of his co-workers and the foreman. “Great,” he thought, “more waiting.”

After a time he felt the driver side door groaned open and Crimson felt the weight of the truck shift a little and smiled inside as the door creaked shut with a loud bang, most certainly attracting attention from the co-workers the black fox and his father shared. A clinking of keys told the older teen that it was finally time to leave the breeze-forsaken quarry. Maybe the humming of the V8 engine beneath the hood would catch him a few minutes of blessed absence from the world of the living. Crimson put his hands behind his head and breathed a little with the strain on his aching muscles. He sighed again and opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp slap to his chest brought him crashing back into a reality.

Crimson gripped the middle of his chest grinning, “What the hell was that one for?” He laughed and groaned at the same time and his orange fox of a father just clapped his hands and rested his forehead on the steering wheel breathless from his abyssal laughter; the expression that crossed his son's face was one of legendary proportions. The youthful fox chuckled uneasily as he massaged his chest and silently cursed murder on his father. He opened his silver eyes and glanced at his father who was finally getting a grip on himself. The elder fox wiped the tears from his amber eyes and took in a deep breath of fresh air.

"I dunno. Thought you needed it so you didn't think sleep is a good idea." He smirked at his son before starting the car. Shifting it into reverse, he looked out of the back window, "You still have that resumé you have to type up, because you know this mining work is just seasonal."

Oh yeah... No more fourteen dollar an hour job after September. No more buying up everything on the shelves at GameStop or anywhere for that matter. The fox closed his eyes and started to think about how much he hated what he did for the mine, but that paycheck made all of the day's transgressions just fade away like grains of sugar tossed amongst the restless waves of the ocean. He didn't really want to leave, but at the same time he did. Sometimes he wondered if that made sense at all. But regardless of what he wanted, it was going to come down to leaving the mine. Besides he needed to find some type of employment about five hours west, right in good ol' California.

His wife-to-be, Cyan, wanted to head back home. Not a feline to be trifled with, that cat could weave a web of words that even the most cunning linguist would stumble over, and eventually concede to whatever desires lay behind that innocent facade. When Crimson asked that do-or-die question, that one turnabout inquiry, he sealed away all the potential fun he could have. It didn't matter then, still didn't now.

She wanted to go home, stay with her parents for a while. Who knows, they may even help that happy couple with their bills. Probably would be expected, but Crimson would do more. He'd pour all of his income to making sure everyone was provided for, not some of his impulses to nab the newest copy of Fallout. If he could spare it, he'd drop a few dollars to get his future in-laws a nice gift to commemorate their upcoming anniversary.

“Hey. You might wanna think of something snappy, son.” He thought he was hearing things at first, but a telltale slap to his chest told him otherwise. “HEY! The missus is waiting with a piece of mail in her hand, and she looks ready to bring either a third world war or maybe worse...”

Crimson sat up from his reclined seat and stared out of the windshield. There in the driveway of his father's home, stood his gorgeous wife. Lithe and silver furred, green eyes that sparkled like newly cut emerald. Her curves demanded attention and her stature commanded respect. She could be goofy, but one chance is all you get on screwing her over. She'd gnaw her own arm off before helping any prick twice. Her soft arms were folded and the mail rested over her left breast, supple and modest.

He groaned and turned his head to the side, desperately wishing to escape back into unconsciousness so that the impending discussion could at least be postponed until he had at least a little energy to speak his mind without her interjecting with authority. But alas, he knew it wouldn't be today. His father pulled in the drive, and waved at Cyan with a smile.

“Good evening, mademoiselle. How doth thee fare?” He laughed at his own little joke as she fumed. Crimson's father stepped out of his Dodge and glanced back at his son, who just now mustered the unfasten his seat belt and fumble with the handle, “Good luck, kid. She's a live one today.” But then again, when wasn't she?

The black fox looked at the letter and noticed it was handwritten, great. “Now, we get to talk more and more about when we'll be leaving to go live with your folks. I know, babe... But you have to understand, I have to bring in as much money as I can now so we'll have a better chance when we get there...”

Cyan just stared back at him and nodded her head, “Uh-huh. But before we do any of that, go get a shower. I can see the sweat through your uniform.” Oh hallelujah, he was spared for a moment. He would savor this small favor from his beloved mistress. The fox kissed her lips and hugged her tightly.

“I promise we'll be gone soon. Just give me a little bit more time.”



07/10 -
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