Luca's Story Ch. 16
Chapter XVI--The Consequences We Reap
_Time to face what you are hiding from
Don't have to do this on your own
Together we are strong
We don't need anyone
No matter what they say the time has come
I'm ready now to start a new beginning
With all our hopes and all our dreams
And I know the stars will shine for you and for me
From the moment you believe
I know they think that I'm no good for you
But we both know that they're wrong
Together we can fight
Show everyone we're right
I don't care what they say our time has come
I'm ready now to start a new beginning...
When you believe there's nothing you can't overcome
When you believe the earth is brighter than the sun
I believe
I'm ready now to start a new beginning..._
-Melanie C, "Moment You Believe"
Luca and Beccah were staring at a resounding twenty pregnancy tests, all of which were laid neatly in a row, side-by-side, all of which had little plus signs in their readout windows. They had been staring at them in dead silence for a very long time. Outside, frost clung to the window still, the slate gray of cloud cover keeping the fresh winter blast intact for the time being.
"What the hell are we going to do?" Beccah asked. Her voice echoed eerily in the bathroom adjacent to Luca's room. As if summoned by some dark mojo, the doorbell rang.
Looking down the stairs, Luca saw her father showing Harold into the house, saying, "Sure, I think I saw her and Luca walking into the house a couple hours ago. Luca!" he called up the stairs, still somewhat out of view. Only the two males' legs were visible from where Luca stood. "Harold is here, are you and Beccah decent?"
"Yeah," she called. "He can come up."
"Luca, what the hell am I going to tell him?" Beccah hissed, having just showed up beside Luca after disposing of the evidence.
"I don't know, but I'm here for you, either way," Luca replied, holding Beccah's hand.
When Harold got up the steps and saw the pair of girls, their eyes watching him nervously, their hands clasped tightly together, and their faces speaking of fear, he already knew. "Fuck me..." he whispered, passing the girls into the bedroom and sitting on the bed. The pair followed in stunned silence. "How long?"
"How long what?" Beccah asked.
"Since your flow was supposed to happen."
Beccah and Luca blinked, looking at each other and back at Harold. "How did you know?" they said in unison.
Harold gave them one of those oh-please-you-know-me kinds of looks. "You have it painted on your faces. Two girls, looking terrified, with an excessively growing amount of anxiety at the sight of a particular boy. You're sure you're pregnant?"
Beccah shrugged. "Well, I mean there's false positives, and the only way I really know is if I go to take a test at the doctor."
"How many tests have you done?"
"Twenty."
Harold was looking exceedingly calm, considering the circumstances. Inside, however, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Apparently his troops' first mission out on the field was a little too successful. "What do you want to do about it?" He said, looking up at Beccah. He reached out his hand and took hers, gently squeezing her fingers.
"I... I don't know," Beccah said. "I mean, we only just found out. I haven't really thought about it."
"It's your burden to bear for the first nine months, that puts you at the advantage in decision-making," Harold said, letting his hand drop. Even if he didn't show it on his face, and even if he knew somewhere deep in his heart he thought it was wrong, he pleaded with God or Allah or whatever powers that be that Beccah would get rid of it. He would never ask her to do that, though.
"Thank you," Beccah whispered quietly, sitting next to Harold and laying her head on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, though," she said in a tone that tried to be reassuring, "at least we know you have no trouble meeting the challenge of becoming a daddy."
Hearing that word only struck it home for Harold just how real this was. It was only by the graces of god that he didn't run away from that house as quickly as he could.
The roads were easily passable even by around ten that morning, so by the time the trio of friends decided to go and do something to take their minds off of the seriousness of Beccah's "condition" that afternoon, they were able to borrow Luca's father's beamer to go eat somewhere nearby.
Once inside, the place was dead, patiently awaiting the evening rush of people. Luca suspected it wasn't going to be much of a night for the little restaurant. It wasn't a shady kind of place, but it sure wasn't very modern or glitzy, either. It was simplistic, focusing on food and service while lacking it atmosphere and décor. Still, in the corner was an empty stage for local bands the place normally booked each week, and generally the younger inhabitants of Queens tended to frequent this place as an escape from the less exciting borough.
As they sat down, the trio fell into a close hunch together over their table. The waitress, a trashy-looking but exotic-looking chameleon dressed in a pair of black slacks and sneakers with a red blouse, was taking her time in getting over to their table. It was something that would normally have bothered Luca. But tonight, she was glad for the privacy.
"So what options are on the table?" Harold said in a low voice. Luca and Beccah looked to him, then at each other. Luca shrugged, unsure what to say. Beccah sighed, sitting back into the booth and looking out the adjacent window at the snow-dusted parking lot. The evening was coming early with the cloud cover, and with it came a new flurry.
"I don't want to think about it," Beccah whispered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Can't we just enjoy ourselves?"
"You know, dodging this might not be a good idea," Harold tried to chip in. Beccah ignored him. Silence came over the table as the waitress finally came up to them.
"How kinnah hepyoo?" She said in an odd accent, slurring through the words without much regard for enunciation.
"Lemonade," Luca said.
"Water," said Harold.
"Water," Beccah finished.
"Mmmm-hmmm," the chameleon girl said, not bothering to write it down. Her look was seemingly neutral, but her eyes gave away the disdain she had for younger customers. Luca wondered if not tipping her for the rudeness would make her think twice about treating young patrons like that, or if it would only motivate her to make other teenage customers feel even more guilty about not having a significant income.
"Bitch," Harold muttered as the chameleon stepped out of earshot, then lay his head on the table. "I can't believe I'm going to be a daddy."
"We haven't decided that yet," Beccah said.
"You have abortion on the table?"
"No."
"Well, then barring the unfortunate circumstance," Harold said with a few raps on the worn wood of the table, "I'll be on the receiving end of father's day gifts in no time."
Beccah shot a glare at him. "I said I don't want to talk about this tonight."
Harold was just about to shoot a snippy comment back when Luca suddenly sat bolt upright and shouted--almost unnecessarily--across the mostly dead restaurant, "Alan!" Luca waved an arm. Harold looked, finding himself looking at an otter waving back.
"You invited him?" Harold asked with irritation.
"No, actually..." Luca said. "Coincidence?" she asked.
"More like lover boy wants another photo op for his feature story," Beccah mumbled. Harold gave her a retaliatory angry glance, Luca didn't notice it.
"Hey, glad I caught up with you," Alan said, smiling warmly as he sat beside Luca at the table. Luca happily introduced him to her friends, to which the response was lukewarm at best.
"What are you doing here?" Luca asked, her face practically glowing with her excitement at Alan's presence. Beccah had seen that before, and she worried for her friend. Luca was a couple months shy of sixteen, this boy a couple months past eighteen. Usually that kind of disparity didn't work for her. She believed firmly that advancing age meant advancing horniness.
"I was stuck at work all day, but I wanted to find you and apologize for the front page photo that appeared in the paper. I hadn't even realized that that prick Benson was following me. He knew I was working hard to get in touch with you. If I'd known--"
Luca shook her head, squeezing Alan's hand. "Chill, Alan. It's ok. If I can't handle a little publicity at this point, I'm in serious trouble."
Alan smiled, and Luca kissed him on the cheek. Beccah rolled her eyes, and Harold was back in his world, considering the full extent of the consequences of being a daddy. The child's name was now in question in his head, and he wondered what a hyena-rabbit hybrid would look like. He hadn't really seen one before.
The waitress came back, seeing the newcomer. "Whachoo havin'?" she asked Alan.
"Jack and Coke," he replied simply, with a kind of persevering confidence. The waitress hesitated, knowing she should ask, but seemed not to care enough as she turned away to place the order. At least someone was buying drinks at the table, and she didn't give a damn who it was.
Luca watched in interest. "How'd you do that?"
Alan shrugged. "First time it's worked," he laughed.
With that, Beccah seemed to ever so slightly warm up to the otter. At least he was cute, she thought, and dragged her way over to Harold with a slightly heavy sigh, resting into her hyena lover.
"Something wrong?" Alan said a few moments and a lot of silence later.
Luca was about to say they were just having a long day when Beccah interrupted. "I'm pregnant."
"Wow. I'd say congrats, but by the bummed silence, I don't know what to say," Alan answered, his drink getting placed before him as he spoke. He turned to the waitress, holding her up with a light touch to the arm. "Excuse me, miss Lastri," he said, then went into ordering a few drinks in a tongue the others did not understand. The waitress went from the sour-looking bitch she was to a much brighter, much happier-looking female. She nodded and answered in the same odd tongue, and she and Alan laughed at some sort of joke together as she headed off to the bar.
"What the hell was that?" Beccah asked.
"I spent four years in Indonesia when my father was dispatched there for Associated Press," Alan said simply, sipping his Jack and Coke. "I saw her name tag, it said Lastri, which is a common name over there."
Luca found herself liking the otter even more, and squeezed his hand in her own. "That's so awesome, Alan." Beccah found herself intrigued by the otter reporter, as well.
When the waitress returned, she came bearing gifts: A round of shots for the four all-too-young patrons. Lastri hardly seemed to care, though, she was simply giddy that she had someone as a customer that was so well-versed in the world she grew up in--and wasn't Indonesian. Indeed, Alan seemed to be gaining social kudos all around. Even Harold was finding it difficult not to feel the infectiousness of Alan's presence.
The four raised their glasses at Alan's gesture. Beccah paused, though. "Won't this... you know, cause damage?"
Alan shook his head. "One shot your entire term isn't going to do anything. Now let me salute you and your pregnancy."
"Ok ok."
"To Beccah and Alan. I wish you both luck, whatever path you may choose."
The four knocked back their shots all at the same time, and all of them gagged and coughed afterwards. The kind of whiskey Alan ordered was the kind that made your fur fall off, apparently.
Food was ordered, good conversation was had, and the four talked about so many things, none of them all that important. It was pushing seven when a crowd of furres really started to build up in the restaurant and bar. Some scrawny, ratty-looking mouse with several studs in his ears, lips, eyebrows, and God only knew where else was setting up equipment on the stage just down on the other end of the row of booths in which the four of them sat.
"I wonder who they booked for tonight," Alan said musingly, glancing towards the stage.
"As long as it's not that group we saw a couple months ago, I'm good," Beccah said. "What the hell were they called again?"
"Crawler, but they spelled it with a K and a U instead of the W," Luca said after some thought. "But yeah, they sucked out loud. I don't even know how that screeching their lead was doing could be considered singing."
Harold and Alan went into their own exchange about cameras as Luca and Beccah talked about that night they had gone out, rehashing cute guys they saw and gossiping about a guy from their school they saw that night touching hands with some other boy they didn't know. It wasn't until the assistant manager of the restaurant, an unassuming tabby in the well-worn button down typical of a lowest-of-the-low managers, came out to announce the band that the four stopped their idle conversations.
"Hello everyone, I'd like to introduce a band from the Bronx, Silver Lining."
A couple of enthusiastic claps and hoots were heard from throughout the dinner crowd as four individuals marched towards the stage. The first was a greyhound with a bowler cap and characteristically un-stylish tweed suit jacket on with beige slacks held up by suspenders, a black t-shirt, and a tie around his neck that was so frightfully red it could make you go blind from staring too long. Luca was suddenly thinking she might have preferred seeing Krauler play again, if not simply because they at least had some sense of a decent wardrobe. The second wasn't nearly as fashion-tarded as the first, wearing a wife beater that showed off his well-muscled upper body and a pair of black cargo pants. But he was a black and white spotted boxer, and his face looked like he'd spent too much time diving into the shallow end of a kiddie pool.
It wasn't until Luca and Beccah saw the third and fourth members of this group that they gasped audibly. Leading the pair was Ray, wearing a nice leather jacket, a white long-sleeve button-down that was untucked, and a pair of darker jeans with faded knees. Behind him was Ronnie. Ronnie's patch of long hair had gotten longer since the last they had seen him, and much more purple. It now covered half his face, on which Luca could see a stud through Ronnie's lower lip and the left side of his nose. On his right ear was a hare ladder, a series of ten rings pierced through the side of the ear in regular succession. He was wearing a simple black long-sleeve t-shirt with no markings on it, showing off a frame that seemed a little too thin for Luca, a pair of faded jeans that seemed very tight and a little short, showing off his long black socks and black sneakers.
"Since when did he get into a band?" Beccah said through the applause at Luca. Luca only shook her head and shrugged. This was the first she'd heard of it, and she had made sure to contact Ronnie once or twice to make sure he was doing alright with Ray at this point.
"Hey everyone," Ronnie said as he approached the microphone. His tone had picked up a tinge of arrogant superiority, and he tossed his head aside for a second to make his long bit of hair swing away from his face, only to be proven futile as it slid back down into his face. "My name's Ronnie and this is our band, Silver Lining. We've got Ray Denton on guitar," he said, looking to Ray and pulling the mic with him. Ray gave Ronnie a little smile that was more than just a friendly one. Ronnie then turned to the ugly boxer on keyboard. "This lovely male here is Charlie Guy." Ronnie then turned all the way to the greyhound on drums. "And this model of Anarchy expressed in fashion is Bruce Alton." The audience gave their light chuckles here and there as Ronnie poked fun at the two band members Luca was unfamiliar with. Before she could try to stand and get Ronnie's attention, the one known as Bruce began tapping out a beat on his snare drum. As The bulldog entered into a slow tune with his keyboard, Ronnie began to sing in a soft falsetto.
"She said that the most beautiful things
can only be touched with your heart...
But when I tried to open mine
the dark thoughts had to start.
I've been blind all of my life,
Not seeing you by my side.
And I couldn't hear you whispering
Into my ear, I almost died..."
As Ronnie continued to sing, the restaurant gradually hushed into appreciative silence. The song was very pretty, even though its composition was fairly simple. What made it all come together, though, was Ronnie's voice beautifully undulating its way through the crowd.
"When the hell did he learn to sing?" Beccah asked Luca in a whisper.
Luca shrugged. "He was in choir before, but I didn't realize he sounded this good."
The patrons of the restaurant grudgingly went back to their eating as the song finished. Ronnie smiled warmly as the applause broke out throughout the establishment, using his fingers now to brush his hair aside. "Thank you all. That was actually the first song I ever wrote for the person I love most in this world," He said, taking a quick glance to his left over at Ray. "I still don't have a title for it," Ronnie admitted, followed by a few light-hearted chuckles in the room. "This next one is called 'Orphan,' I hope you guys like it as much as I do."
After an hour or so of playing many different songs--all of which were original--Ronnie and the rest of the band headed off for intermission. Luca noticed that most of the patrons had not bothered to leave, even though many of their meals were long over. The waitress was back to her scowling self as she brought another round of coffee to a nearby table.
"Let's go say hi," Beccah said, grabbing Luca's arm. "They're at the bar now."
Beccah and Luca excused themselves and walked towards the bar.
"By the way, Alan is sooooo cute."
"Hey now," Luca said with a warning glance. "Hands off the cute otter boy."
"I would never."
"Oh? You were practically drooling with your statement there. I'm surprised Harold didn't notice how hard you were staring at Alan."
Beccah sighed. "I'm sorry. I promise, I won't touch," she said, finishing in a whisper as they got up to the group. Ronnie and Ray were facing the bar, the other two were talking to each other and tensed slightly as the two girls approached.
"Hey now, no bothering the talent," the greyhound said. His accent was very English lower class. He stood up, about to get between Ronnie and Ray and the two girls, when Ray turned his head and his face brightened up, holding out an arm to block Bruce from interfering.
"What are you guys doing here!?" Ray exclaimed, hitting Ronnie on the arm to get his attention. Ronnie turned away from his Coke and the bartender he was speaking to, and his face brightened noticeably too.
"Hey, my favorite two females in my life," Ronnie said with a smile. "What's up?"
Luca shrugged. "We were having a bad day, decided to blow off some steam here by coincidence."
"Yeah, I saw that pic. I guess you're pretty pissed with that otter, eh?" Ronnie asked.
Luca shook her head. "No, it's actually because B--"
Beccah pinched Luca in the side, and hard, taking up the sentence, "of some other prick that had been tailing Alan for a while."
"Alan?" Ray said.
"That's the otter's name," Luca said, holding back from getting tears in her eyes from how much the pinch stung, but she sucked it up. "He's a really sweet guy, actually. He's over at the table with Harold now."
"How's he doing?" Ronnie asked. "Has he gotten any new games?"
Beccah sighed noticeably. "Only like every second of every day."
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted. The four turned towards a male fox with a bright, cheerful face. He was dressed in a pinstripe gray suit with a lavender shirt and purple tie with bright paisleys that brought the whole outfit together. "Could I speak to you gentlemen for a moment?"
"Well, we're speaking to some friends right now, and we don't know who the hell you are, so no," Ray said simply, turning back towards the other three.
"Would you be more interested if I were to offer you a record deal?"
The four turned back towards the fox. He was smiling wide, seemingly unaffected by Ray's rudeness.
"Run that by me again," Ray said.