Roomies-Chapter 5

Part 5: Happy Place

Sunlight beamed from the now open bay window. The harsh rays reflected off the parched sand outside, intensifying the glare as it hit Michael’s sleeping face. His instincts turned him over, burying his face in the white seat cushion of the couch. With white fur on white cloth, he grumbled and yawned into the fibers. He was so comfortable that, in his daze, he had forgotten where exactly he was. He shuffled his legs, bringing his knees closer into his belly and folding his arms over his chest as if giving a hug, all while his tail gently swung below him and brushed the hardwood floor.

He mumbled, “No…..mom…..five more minutes….”

Even in his drowsiness, an unexpected reply surprised him. It said, in a raspy, high-pitched voice, “Oh dearie, come now. We can’t have you in bed all day! Mostly because you’re on the couch, and if you don’t move, I’ll miss my soaps!”

Part of him wanted to turn around, though another part feared of what he might see when he did. Yet another part just simply wanted to fall back to sleep completely, but the brightness of the room saw an end to that. Finally, albeit reluctantly, curiosity won out and he rolled himself back over.

He had to squint and blink a few times in order to see the fuzzy shape standing before him clearly. His eyes finally focused the colors into the correct places: red and black swaths morphing into fur on a grinning face, with white accentuating the insides of ears and the wide grin inside a muzzle. The movement behind the shape finally came into focus as well, forming into a large, bushy tail that swayed listlessly through the morning air.

The realization that this was his roommate, Louie Joel, happened only after the smaller red and black mammal took a step towards Michael’s legs and gently slid them off the couch. The jolt from being forced into a sitting position woke the arctic fox up completely, though he wasn’t particularly happy about it. After holding his head in his hands and wiping his eyes, Michael shot Louie and indignant look.

The glare was answered with a look of self-assured innocence. It was far too early in the morning for Michael to deal with any kind of arrogance, and since he was in the safety of his apartment, he felt free to let his displeasure be known.

“What the hell’s the big idea,” he said. “You’re seriously not gonna let me sleep in after the day I had yesterday?”

“Hey pal; I DID let you sleep in. Take a look at the clock.”

Following the jabbed thumb that pointed behind Louie’s head and towards the kitchenette, Michael, for the first time, took notice to a clock mounted onto the panels of one of the cabinets. It’s hands read that the time was already well past 1pm, a fact that made Michel’s eyes widen in surprise.

Louie said, “I already held off on making breakfast this morning, but even when I started it, the smells didn’t wake you up. I was just about to eat without’cha, but I saw you laying there and…well I would’ve felt bad if I did. So this is your wakeup call: you don’t take it, and your food’s gonna get cold.”

With that, he turned on his heels and headed for the four-foot dining table that sat just on the other side of a low wall separating the kitchenette from the rest of the apartment. It was only upon seeing the significant spread laid out on the table that Michael picked up on the bouquet of aromas wafting through the house. As if a centerpiece of the entire table, a nearly foot and a half stack of pancakes bellowed steam like a smoke stack. Next to it, tofu sausages still crackled and popped as their hot skins came in contact with cool, sugary maple syrup. A plate of what must have been a dozen eggs glimmered with a coating of freshly melted butter, accentuating the myriad of shapes and colors of the vegetables that were cooked within. Beautifully browned toast sat on top of the low wall, the nearly fully loaf of it looking down on the rest of the table. Condiments of every style filled in the gaps between foods, save for the two places where empty plates sat. Louie took his seat in front of one of these places and began to unceremoniously stab various food items and place them on his dish.

Michael watched his roommate for a few seconds, taking in the scene as his still sleepy mind attempted to reboot itself. Finally, before digging in, Louie turned in his seat and hastily beckoned his roommate over. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but since it seemed like Louie wouldn’t begin eating until he’d sat down, he thought it rude to simply stay where he was. And so, he got himself to his feet, shuffled over to his chair and plopped down in it.

Sitting in such proximity to the delicious spread must have had more of an effect on him than the arctic fox had once thought. At once, his tummy rumbled like a freight train barreling through a neighborhood. Louie, at the time, had already begun eating himself, and the sight of it only made Michael realize that he was actually quite hungry. He began picking pieces of food from amongst the spread. He grabbed two eggs and two pieces of toast, decorated them with various condiments and pressed them all together into a sandwich. He didn’t bother worrying whether or not the food was actually going to be any good; he was starving, and seeing as the food LOOKED good enough, he figured he might as well try it.

It just so happened that the sandwich was divine. Michael unconsciously moaned his satisfaction as he scarfed the rest of it down. When nothing but crumbs laid on his plate, he wiped his face with a nearby napkin and leaned back in his chair. For the first time since he started eating, he looked across the table at where his roommate sat. Louie was staring at him, chewing on something with his mouth twisted into a self-satisfied grin. The arrogance of the look made the cold weather fox’s blood boil, and so he looked away to avoid getting himself even more worked up.

Just as he had figured, eye contact prompted his roommate to speak. Louie said, “So, how’d you sleep last night roomie? Was the couch comfy enough for ya?”

“Actually yeah, it was.”

A jovial laugh erupted from the other end of the table. Then, “That’s good to hear. But I think you’ll have a better time sleeping in your OWN bed tonight.”

Michael had totally forgotten about that detail. In all the hustle and bustle yesterday, he had neglected unpacking any of his things and putting them in their proper place in his new room. In truth, he hadn’t even SEEN his new room yet. Mild annoyance gave way to frustration and anger. All of that would have been done YESTERDAY if his roommate hadn’t dragged him on an excursion through the city streets.

He said, “Oh, yeah. I just gotta make sure I UNPACK everything first. I hope I can get it all done.”

The disgust must have come through in his voice, because Louie huffed from across the table. Just when Michael thought he was going to get an earful about being rude, his roommate said,

“Ahh, I have every faith in ya. In fact, I could help ya out! Just tell me where to put everything and….”

Louie had risen to his feet and started walking past Michael towards the far hallway. Before he got past however, Michael stood and blocked his path, keeping an arms length between them and waving his paws in emphasis.

“NO NO NO NO NO, that’s okay. I’m fine, I can do it by myself. You’re good. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense! It wouldn’t be putting me out at all! What are roommates for? Well, ya know, besides dashing good looks in my case.”

“No, seriously, it’s fine. I only have a few things. If I….look, if I need your help, I’ll be sure to let you know. Is that fair?”

Louie stopped his advance abruptly, causing Michael to finally lower his guard. In a surprisingly sincere voice, he said, “Alright, no problem. You probably got a bunch of personal stuff in there that you don’t want other people rifling through. It’s cool man, I understand.”

A smile arced its way from cheek to cheek like an inverted rainbow, and looking just as sweet. He said, “I’m here if you need me.”

Michael didn’t really know how to respond. Words didn’t seem like the right response, so he resorted to a series of quick nods. Once he did, he instantly felt awkward, and so in an attempt to escape, he turned on his heels and made his way down the hallway behind him. As soon as he did, he felt a hand wrap around his own.

It froze him in place. Without even turning around, he heard Louie say, “Heh heh, wrong way dude. You’re gonna be going down THIS hallway.”

The hand pulled at his, and he dutifully followed where it led. Like a wild young puppy on a leash, he followed along the path that Louie blazed through the apartment. His grip wasn’t even all that firm; in fact, it was downright gentle, but the sheer pawpad on pawpad contact made Michael feel like their hands were glued together. They had made their way down the short hallway, hand in hand, until they finally reached a closed door.

Louie opened it with his free hand and led them both inside. When he did, he finally let go of his artic roommate’s hand. Upon its release, Michael began massaging it with the other, trying to get the sensation of being touched to leave his paw pads.

Thankfully, it left immediately upon being distracted by the sights of the room he had entered. The first thing he noticed was a pair of twin-sized beds, abutting the walls to his right and left. One was dressed in brightly colored blue sheets, accented with bright white stitching and trims. On top of the freshly made sheets was an assorted pile of clothing, a mishmash of styles and colors appropriate for seemingly random times of the year. Michael instantly thought that the varied climates of each sector of the city must have required appropriate clothing if one was to spend a significant amount of time there; Louie’s failure to do so yesterday when the pair entered Tundra town was a testament to that.

Above the bed was a large painting. The stretched canvass seemed a bit lopsided looking at it from the entryway, but that didn’t really detract from the beauty of the picture depicted on it. Fine brushstrokes and intricate details brought a gorgeous cityscape to life. The perspective made it appear like the painting was a window, perched high on a skyscraper in the middle of a bustling nighttime scene. Buildings not unlike the ones they had seen in Savannah Central seemed to crop up to cover every inch of the horizon, replacing it with windows studded with lights that made them almost indistinguishable with the stars in the night sky painted above. In fact, the delineation between the sky and buildings was very difficult to make out, making it seem like the lights from the buildings were turning into stars. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

Michael must have marveled at the painting for longer than he had realized, because his roommate suddenly interjected his thoughts.

“Ya like that, huh? Believe it or not, I just got that the other day. Ya see, I had the bed over by the window over there, but I decided to let my roommate take it instead. Ya know, a show of goodwill among roomies. Only thing is that I kinda liked looked out the window at night, and since I couldn’t open up a hole on my side of the room, I figured a painting of a nice view was the next best thing.”

It was only then that Michael turned around and saw what his roommate was talking about. Directly opposite the painting was a window nearly identical in size. It looked out over the desolate sands, though just beyond the dunes, Michael could just make out the sprawl of Savannah Square’s central hub. Just underneath the window, the other bed lay bare, save for the mattress and a folded up pile of plain white sheets. The sill above the bed was filled with a series of small novelty items; mostly gag gifts, such as packages of shock gum or snake-in-a-can spring traps. Pictures of mammals Michael didn’t recognize hung on the walls surrounding the window. Some were signed, though most simply pictured the mammal in question onstage, or on some advertisement promoting a show. One picture featured Louie standing next to one, beaming proudly and squeezing onto the other person’s shoulder. In the corner of the picture, a brief message was scribbled in script: Louie, never forget to have a laugh! Louis Charles-Kendal.

Michael stepped forward to try and get a better look, but was unable to get the chance when his roommate hopped onto the bed and started taking the pictures off the walls. He piled everything in his arms, saying,

“Heh, sorry about that. I didn’t get a chance to finish moving all my stuff over.”

When his hands became full and the sill and walls were cleared completely, he sprung off the bed. He took a few wobbly steps across the room before letting everything drop directly onto the pile of clothes, causing the heap to flatten out. He clapped his paws together and turned around, facing Michael once again. Smiling, he gestured towards the empty bed.

“She’s all yours now!”

Michael looked back and forth between the beds. It still seemed incredibly unreal that this would be his room from now on. He never let go of the feeling that he would have the luxury of his own room, even when he found out that he’d be bunking with someone else. While he could admit that he wasn’t particularly thrilled about the arrangement, he, in truth, really didn’t know what any of this meant. With no siblings in his family, he had always had a room to himself, a space where none of the day’s worries or cares could ever get to him. It was a place where he could be alone and unwind, writing his stories to his heart’s content and cleansing his mind of all negativity.

The idea of sharing that personal space with someone else seemed…wrong, in a lot of ways. However, everything was happening far too fast, and Michael couldn’t find the heart to argue about it. There was no way he could change the situation without coming off as ungrateful and rude, and so his hands were tied.

He found it funny how that seemed to happen a lot since he had arrived in Zootopia.

Louie, looking like he just remembered something, hurried out of the room, leaving Michael all alone with his thoughts. Thankfully, he returned before the young arctic fox was able to drag himself too deeply into self-pity once again. He dragged behind him all of Michael’s bags, each one stacked on top of the other and pulled along like a cart. He deposited the bags in the empty space between the foot of the bed and the opposite wall, a space that wasn’t any more than yard wide at most.

“Probably a good idea to have your bags with you when you unpack. Ya know, just a thought.” He giggled to himself and started towards the door. When he reached it, he hesitated a step. He turned to face Michael again.

“You sure you don’t need any help? I’d be glad to give it.”

Michael couldn’t even find the courage to look the other mammal in the eyes. Rather than appear bashful by standing stupidly and looking at the floor, he decided to try and look busy by approaching his bags and starting to fumble through them. He knew that alone wouldn’t satisfy his new roommate, so he said,

“No, it’s really okay. I mean, you can feel free to do your own stuff in here; I don’t mind that. But I got my bags. Thank you.”

The arctic fox risked glancing over towards the door. Louie chewed the thought for a moment, but his reply came confidently.

“Nahhh. I’ll get all that stuff sorted later. Besides, I gotta clean up the mess in the kitchen anyway so it’s gonna have to wait.”

He grabbed hold of the knob and pulled it shut as he stepped backwards out of the room, giving a cheerful salutation on the way out. As Michael listened to the footsteps taper off in the distance, he let out a sigh that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. He sat up from the bags and leaned his back against the footboard of his new bed. Finally, after all this time, he could take a breather and collect himself.

He sat still for some time, letting his blank mind wander in the safety of his own space. It was only then that, like clockwork, ideas started to form. All of a sudden, he wasn’t in his apartment in Zootopia anymore. Instead, he was in some fantastical land of his own design, the hero of yet another story, unbothered by failed social interactions or haggared by a menagerie of people and things all vying for his attention. Bit by bit, a plot formed, one that was reduced, lengthened, edited and reedited as he got to his knees and started rifling though his bags.

His body worked hard as his mind remained in his fantasy world. The ideas flowing into and out of his head sent his heart racing, giving him an influx of energy he used to work. He moved about the room like he was walking on clouds, committing half his mind to figure out how things should be organized while the other continued to brainstorm. In the quiet, he could hear the business of his roommate in the distance; the sound of running water carried through the hallways and was easily picked up by Michael’s canine ears. A memory of home flashed in his mind: his mother, busily doing housework downstairs while he tidied his room.

The arctic fox closed his eyes for a minute and sat down on his bed, bringing his mind further into focus. He felt a chill course through his body at once, that familiar feeling of the cold seeping in through the nearby window. His nose picked up smells that weren’t there; the distinct aroma of fresh fish being spiced and grilled while biscuits baked in the oven. As he ran his toes through the fibers of the carpet, he felt them morph into the silkier kind he had once walked on every day. Michael turned, bringing his legs up onto the bed, both in his fantasy and in real life. He saw his desk with his computer opened up on it, and the collage of pictures littering the walls directly above it.

Then he opened his eyes. When they focused, they looked out onto the expanse of dull beige sand. The sky was a harsh shade of bright blue, with the sun blazing to heat the dust below and cause lines of heat to dance from the surface. At once, the familiar chill left his body, but with the quiet still surrounding him, his heart didn’t sink nearly as much as he thought it would.

In fact, after looking out the window for a minute or two, his mind actually erupted with fresh ideas. At once, Michael hopped off the bed and pulled his laptop from out of its case and began booting it up. He sat cross-legged on the still folded sheets, balancing his computer on the sides of his knees. When his desktop finally appeared, he quickly scrolled through his collection of work until he found the piece he found the latest chapter of his novel, and began typing feverishly.

His fingers danced across the keyboard, the clacking of his claws on the keys putting him into a trance. He paused only briefly to look out the window again, as if confirming with an unseen entity as to what he should write down next. After mulling over a dozen ideas, he nodded to himself and continued on. In time, he felt his legs begin to tingle and sting, so he straightened them out in front of him, though he didn’t stop for an instant. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the word count reading increased like the ticker of an accountant. Letters clogged the screen, and then were abruptly wiped as the program loaded a fresh page. The sudden jolts barely registered in Michael’s intensely focused mind.

He was truly in another world, one that was both familiar and fantastic. Rather than dictating what his characters did, he instead looked on them as a silent, omnipresent observer, watching and transcribing what he saw as the action took place. He described roving fields, claustrophobic cities and chattering forests as he stood amid them in his mind. He captured every smell, every taste, every sound that he could and articulated them with flowing adjectives and cunning adverbs. When his characters spoke, it was as if he heard them clear as day. Each one had a unique voice and speech pattern, all of which shone through on the page when Michael had typed it out.

Finally, his steam had begun to run out. He neared a good stopping point and placed his final period with gusto. After he did, he sat back for a moment to catch his breath. It felt like he had run a marathon, even though he hadn’t budged an inch for some time. His paws cramped, but even still he found the will to smile to himself. He scrolled back through the pages he had just written and read through them all again. Every so often, he would bring his hands back up to add a comma or correct a spelling mistake. He would even, on occasion, delete and rewrite whole sentences. It was frustrating work, to be sure, but such feelings were fleeting and never really lasted very long. The sensation of inner stillness always returned; he wasn’t being jostled, pushed or FORCED to do anything. While he was here, in his space, he was his true self. Here, he was at peace.

At least, he WAS. Not but a moment later, the door creaked open with a loud, grating shriek. It gave Michael a start, so much so that he had to brace the laptop with his paws to keep it from flying off his legs and crashing onto the floor. Once he recovered, he looked up to see two eyes peeking out from beyond the edge of the slightly opened door.

When he made eye contact, Louie pushed the door further to let himself in. Michael scowled, but tried his best to keep it hidden. THIS would be what he could look forward to now that he had to share his room with another mammal: distracting interruptions without even the courtesy of a knock first.

As irritated as he was with the interruption, he knew Blue didn’t do anything to warrant a snapping remark. Instead, he took the initiative and spoke first, trying his best to hide the indignation in his voice.

“Hi, what’s up? You need something?”

Whether or not Louie actually caught the icy barb in to the frigid fox’s tone Michael couldn’t be sure. He certainly didn’t show it if he did. Rather, he walked over to his bed and plopped himself down on it. The springs squeaked in retort, and the knickknacks that were carefully balanced on the pile of clothes next to him popped slightly into the air before coming back down in a jumbled mess. Louie didn’t seem to notice that either, as he was instead looking at Michael’s side of the room. He scanned it up and down, with a goofy grin on his face the entire time.

“Looks like you’re not quite done in here, huh?”

Michael, for the first time in a while, took a solid look around himself. His bed was still bare; the sheets meant to dress it were wrinkled and crumpled up underneath his foxy butt. The suitcases at the foot of his bed were only half emptied of their contents. One in particular had a single shirt dislodged from its folded crevice, crumpled up and wrinkled on top of all the other pieces of clothing. Even more clothes were stacked next to him, all of them in neat organized piles arranged by type.

The young arctic mammal flushed with embarrassment. His mind was so focused on other things that he hadn’t finished what he had set out to do in the first place. He looked back at his computer and sighed. This certainly wasn’t the first time he got distracted by his writing, but it took on a whole new level of shame when it happened in front of a nearly complete stranger. He quickly saved his progress and closed his laptop before Louie got any funny ideas about looking over his shoulder to see what was onscreen.

“I…guess I got a little sidetracked.”

Stiffly, he rose to his feet and attempted to resume tidying up. But before he could reach out to grab the next shirt in his bag, a paw on his shoulder froze him in place.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Michael couldn’t even find the courage to fully turn to face the other mammal, especially not with his hand still on his shoulder.

“Uh…I’m finishing unpacking?”

Without warning, he was spun around and grabbed on both biceps. Louie, having to look up slightly due to his size, seemed almost twenty feet tall due to the brazen look on his face. He made an obnoxious buzzer impression before saying,

“Wrong answer! What you’re ACTUALLY doing is getting ready to go out with me!”

“B…bu….but…I’m not done here…I gotta…”

“Pfft, you gotta do nothing but hang out with me!” He jabbed a finger at the bed behind him. “You think I care if the room is a little messy? No way man, it’s part of the charm of being a bachelor!”

He finally let go of Michael’s shoulders before continuing in a more relaxed tone, “Look, today is my day off of work, and usually I’d go hang out at this really cool place I know downtown. I think you’ll really dig it, it’s just your kind of club, I bet.”

The word “club” rang in his ears as if it were a curse. He tried his best to not appear frazzled by the invocation of the dreaded phrase, and came up an excuse impressively fast. “I…I’m really flattered, but I seriously should get this done…”

The smirk that stretched across Louie’s face was hard to read. It wasn’t clear to Michael if he had caught on to his true feelings or not. “Aw come on man, you’re here in ZOOTOPIA, place where dreams come true! You got no job to worry about, so you could do this stuff while I’m at work. Besides, didn’t you say you had money stored away JUST for stuff like this?”

That was a fair point, Michael had to admit. Though he did feel the desperate need to finish what he started, the whole point of his long journey here wasn’t to spend it doing housework. The place, for all its flaws, was still magical in its own way. Back home, he’d wanted nothing more than to explore its streets and sample some of the wonders that he only read about online.

Besides, he’d gotten a lot done today, if not all of it what he had initially intended. He had to admit that finishing a chunk of his magnum opus always put him in high spirits, even if it took away from other things. However…

“But….I don’t really DO clubs. I’ve….”

Louie looked puzzled for a second as Michael trailed off. However, he quickly perked up and said, “Ohhhhh, you’ve never been to one before, huh?”

“I…N…no…”

Louie’s familiar warm smile instantly brought down the young arctic fox’s guard. The simple act caused every muscle in Michael’s body to loosen, releasing a tension that he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Hey, that’s no problem. We all gotta start somewhere, right? Don’t worry, I’ll ease you into it. The place has a bar, we can go there, sit down, order some food and drinks and basically just enjoy the music. They got this band there that….well, I’ll just let you see it for yourself.”

Louie took Michael’s hand, but far more gingerly than last time. It was an inviting gesture, the slight tug of his arm feeling more like an unvoiced request than a command. The innocent, puppy dog look he gave didn’t escape Michael’s notice either, and it worked in tandem with his words to weaken the fox’s constitution. The inner wall he’d built up against the idea crumbled brick by brick, until soon it was nothing but powder underneath the mighty power of this pleading little canine.

“I….well….okay….”

The grip around is paw tightened, and a hard jerk sent him stumbling forward. Before he knew it, Michael was out in the hallway, being dragged through the hall, into the living room and then back around the other hallway that ran parallel to the one he was just in. He saw as Louie threw open a door that appeared to lead to a bathroom, right before he was shoved inside.

“Well then let’s go go go! Here, I got some nice threads for ya. Mouthwash is under the sink…no, we don’t have time to brush. We gotta get moving while the getting’s good!”

The red mammal tossed Michael a set of clothes. He didn’t even realized Louie had grabbed anything off of his bed, so he was surprised to see a button up shirt and pair of slacks of his fall into his arms. Before he could even process what was going on, the door to the bathroom was slammed shut, causing Michael to yelp with alarm.

It was some time before Michael emerged from the bathroom, mostly due to the fact that he had to recover his wits before he could change his clothes. As he walked into the living room, he heard a rustling though the walls from the direction of the bedroom. Just as he rounded the bend, Louie sprinted down the hall and popped into view, nearly giving the larger mammal a heart attack.

Like Michael, Louie was dressed in a collared button up shirt and slacks. His, however, were far more vibrantly colored than the more subdued deep purple shirt and black pants that Michael wore. Louie’s pants were bright white, offsetting the he bright electric blue of his shirt. The color actually reminded Michael of the hue of his claws during the winter months, when he and the rest of his family wore their bright white coats of fur.

“Lookin’ good there, slick” Louie proclaimed, scanning the arctic fox foot to snout. The attention caused Michael to blush, making him turn away slightly to avoid eye to eye contact.

“Th…thanks. You too.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Louie pause for a moment. Just as he turned his head to look at him, the other mammal looked up from what he was staring at quickly and turned suddenly. He walked off quickly, but called to his roommate behind him that it was time to go.

Michael shook off his curiosity and ran off after his roommate.