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Shadows Dance

"No. No, this isn't right."

But it was right, the evidence was staring Nathan in the face. The thin red fox read the letter again, hardly believing the typed Tahoma-style words. He hoped that reading the letter again might magically rearrange the words into a less confusing jumble, but his hopes were in vain. Each time his bright yellow eyes traveled over the words "John is in the hospital," and "I have something you might want to see," his stomach did a barrel-roll. It had to be some kind of a joke. Steven was known for his poor taste in humor, after all.

But there was something about the wording, that urgent phrasing, the almost formalness...it was too serious to be a joke.

Nathan went to his room and put on a coat over his brown t-shirt, leaving his black denim shorts alone. As a native Minnesotan, he had an intuitive inkling of when the weather would slowly be winding down and spiral into the danger line. It was October, after all, and the weather stations were already saying that it was shaping up to be the coldest October since 1845. He grabbed his car keys and walked out of his guardian's house. His mind was such a tangled mess of ambiguous thoughts that he didn't even think to leave a note.

Steve Benedict's place was twenty miles away in Discovery. As one of Nathan's older friends, it was difficult to see that he had been doing well for himself as a makeup-artist. The house he lived in was a small affair, definitely nothing his upper-class mother and father would commend him on. It was a single-floor, five-room fixer-upper with splintered window panes and soft blue walls that were in desperate need of repainting. The porch was just as askew as the tower of Pisa, and the sidewalk stuck up in certain places that forced you to take bigger-than-average steps. But on the inside was a vast collection of antiquities from a time capsule, its time period ranging from the roaring twenties to the late sixties. There was furniture and kitchenware that, had they not been replicas, would have graced any museum.

Not only was Steven a nostalgic pack-rat, he was a firm believer and promoter of the phrase "don't judge a book by its cover." Nathan supposed that that was how they got on so well together. Being a formerly repressed gay, he found it hard to meet people he could trust and confide in. When he found things to be too unbearable, however, or when things seemed a bit heated between him and John, he found he could always go to Steven to voice out his feelings.

But this whole thing with the letter, and John being in the hospital...He just didn't know what was going on.

He knocked on the chipped white door, ignoring the torn mosquito net flapping lazily in the cold breeze. He waited for several minutes before he heard the clanking sounds of the feline pulling and turning back the numerous locks. If it was one thing Steven had not forgotten from his upbringing in the southern nobility, it was the stern mistrust he had for the rest of the world when it came to his property. The door opened and instantly Nathan saw the haggard look in the feline's green and blue features. His eyes (the right one blue, the left green) were dark and worried, and the younger fox could see the evident signs of sleeplessness beneath them. He wore a black vest over an olive green t-shirt with black camouflage pants, clubwear, the kind of clothes he usually wore on a weekend when business was slow. His striped tail was low and moved pendulously above the beige carpeted floor.

"Come on in," Steven said, stepping politely to the side. It was all he said, and Nathan, through a sudden case of anxiety-borne paranoia, didn't like the way he said it.

Nathan stepped into the fancy living room, his eyes wandering over the unique objects that had obviously been inherited by his parents before they disowned him. The living room opened up into the dining room, and from there was the kitchen to the left. The thin hallway after that led to the bathroom and Steven's room. To the right of the entryway was the cellar. Nathan followed Steven into the dining room, feeling as though the silence was a physical thing he could actually touch.

"Can I get you a beer?" Steven asked, heading into the kitchen. Nathan sat at the table

"You know I don't drink."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Uh, tea then?"

Nathan wasn't thirsty. His stomach felt as though it would soon jump out of his throat, and a dull, throbbing pain had just developed deep within the recesses of his skull. The thought of drinking something brought an ache to his abdomen. He didn't want to be impolite, however, so he said he'd have some tea.

"It's all I've got, really. Tea and alcohol, water if you wanna wash out the taste of either one of 'em. Whole damn kitchen's full of the stuff..."

"Steve."

Steven looked up from the kettle he held the rushing faucet under. His heterochromatic eyes were wide with what might have been expectancy.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to John?"

Steven blinked and turned back to the kettle. "In a moment," he said. When the kettle was full, Steven put it on the oven, turning one of the black knobs with a solid clicking sound. It was as good as a stab in the heart, as far as Nathan was concerned. The red fox started to get angry; Steven knew what was going on, and he wouldn't tell him. It was like their friendship mattered so little to the cat that it didn't constitute the trade of information when someone important to him was in the hospital. Soon enough Steven came back and sat at the other end of the table. He didn't look in Nathan's eyes.

Nathan was about to say something when Steven dug into his pockets and pulled out a white plastic case, inside which was a CD. He placed it on the table the way you'd expect someone to lay down a card in a poker game. There was another bout of unnatural silence when Steve spoke.

"I thought for a long time whether I wanted you to see this or not, Nathan, if I should've kept it or given it to you or if I should just break it and bury it in the ground. I know you've got a lot of questions, and I can tell you up front that I probably have answers to maybe one or two." He tapped the plastic case with a ringed finger. "John sent me this when he was away."

"You mean when he went to Japan?"

Steven looked up at Nathan, his brow knitted in confusion as he cocked his head to one side. "Japan? Is that what he told you?"

"What do you mean 'is that what he told me?' He really did go there. He sent me photos..."

"John went to Japan last month, back when you and your family went down to California. Those photographs weren't from his last trip."

Nathan felt the insides of his stomach turn cold. John didn't go anywhere last month, he was complaining all week about not being with Nathan when he was packing for the family trip. He had sent e-mails to the grey wolf every week, and he had always received e-mails back in the form of complaints that there was nothing to do in such a run-of-the-mill state, nothing to do without Nathan away.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to tell me, Steven, but I know John and he's not a liar."

"I never said he was a liar," Steven said calmly.

"Then what are you saying? It seems to me that you're trying to--"

"I'm trying to tell you that John is something more than what you think he is.

Nathan slumped back against the chair, unsure of what to believe anymore. He felt tired and sick, and he wanted to go home. But another part wanted to disprove these accusations that Steve was throwing at him. Accusations which were slowly becoming more and more clear as Nathan thought about them.

He nodded toward the plastic case with the CD in it. "What's on the disc?"

Steven bit his lip and made a show of scratching an itch on his throat. "It's a video John filmed during his last trip. I don't want to show it to you unless you really, really want to watch it, though."

Nathan scoffed loudly. That didn't really help the decision-making process, did it? He was afraid of what he would see, but the little voice in his head chanted over and over watch it, Nathan, watch it and see what happens.

After a short while, the small red fox nodded and said "I'll watch it...but I'm not gonna make any assumptions."

"Nobody expects you to. Like I said, it would be for your own good."

Nathan made a mental note to remind Steve of who really knew what his own good was. A short while later, Steve noticed the steam coming from the kettle and got up to take it off the oven. When he left, Nathan reached out and took the encased disc, turning it over in his dark brown paws. Behind the opaque plastic the disc gleamed with a spectrum of colors in the light that shone from the window. When he turned it to the left just a little, it became a rainbow, and Nathan felt another twinge of guilt and pain. On this CD were questions and answers, and likely things John wouldn't talk to him about.

It was these thoughts that spurred him to finally cross that bridge of doubt and want to view its contents.

When Steve came back, they had tea. It was nice but tasted bitter. After that, they went into the basement, which Steve had converted into a personal theater room. The walls were done in red velvet curtains, and the massive television lay embedded in the wall facing the staircase. Nathan sat at one of the couches, watching Steve walk to the counter beside the television and open the panel on the DVD player. He spoke over his shoulder at the fox, "So how's life with the Stepfords? Your last Facebook post had some pretty nasty comments about them..."

"Steve, just play the damn thing."

The cat looked over at him with what Nathan thought was a look of pure rage. But this thought was quickly allayed when the cat apologized. He said he was sorry, but Nathan didn't believe it. A couple of minutes earlier Steve was telling him about how deceitful and narcissistic John was, and he hadn't apologized for that. John wasn't a liar, and he wasn't an "adventurer." He was funny and polite, but more than that he was accepting, and these traits completely overweighed the fact that he was five years older than Nathan and therefore had much less time on his paws than Nathan wanted.

Steve turned the television on, grabbed the remote from the counter and walked back to the couch Nathan was sitting at. When he fell down into the seat, the red fox fought the urge to move away. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about Steven that had...changed, and Nathan didn't like it.

"What are you going to show me, Steve?"

He could see the cat stare at him through the corner of his eye. In a moment, he wished he hadn't spoken.

"The truth," was all Steven said. He raised the remote to the television as though he were shooting a pistol, and clicked the play button. The blue screen displayed the play symbol, went black for a moment, and the video started playing. Nathan crossed his arms and scowled, feeling that sensation of going down a roller coaster in the pit of his stomach as he watched the screen, his yellow eyes wide, taking in everything.

*************************************************************************************

_ A tall, red vixen walks gracefully passed the black footstool. She is clad in a gold colored bikini and matching top. A silver tail ring gleams brightly near the base of her tail in the light of the video camera. Her back was to the camera, but she turns and grabs a rolled-up stocking. She throws it and it strikes the lens of the camera with a gentle tapping sound. Her voice calls out in a rustic Australian accent._

_ Vixen: "I told you I don't like to be filmed!"_

_ Voice: "Well, you should've learned by now that you can't trust me."_

_ Vixen: "I learned that yesterday, when I caught you going through my underwear."_

_ Voice: "What? I would never have--."_

_ Vixen: "Oh don't give me that. Why don't you buy a pair for yourself? You've got the money."_

_ Voice: "Look, If I--"_

_ The image skips, flashes, then shows John and the red vixen standing side by side, leaning against a stone railing. The wolf is dressed in ripped blue jeans and a black t-shirt that proclaims his devotion to Alice Cooper. The vixen was wearing a desert camouflage shirt and a bandana of the same design with a black skirt. Behind them, a sunset glimmers with gold and maroon colors. They point to the camera and wave, their faces smiling happily as the sun casts a halo of molten gold over their heads. The sounds of an unseen French singer rise and fall in a wide, tenor voice. Suddenly the vixen's head darts quickly to John's and kisses him on the cheek. John gives the vixen a withered look as a wide grin plays over his muzzle._

*************************************************************************************

Nathan twitched as he watched the video with growing interest. What the hell was John doing? Who was this vixen he was with? What was she to him, and what were they doing in France?

John wasn't straight, Nathan knew that much. The wolf proved that to him very passionately one night in August. But just what was going on here? The vixen had to be a relative or something...but what was that scene about at the beginning? Nathan felt horribly confused, and his stomach felt as though it were tumbling down a slow decline. He wanted to turn away but his eyes remained glued to the screen.

*************************************************************************************

_ The image on the camera moves sporadically and cuts off again. It now shows John in front of a French café, wearing a pair of sunglasses with mirror lenses. He turns out his arms and displays a rack of hats of varying styles. They all featured designs of different brands of soda or energy drink. A hand appeared from behind the camera and takes a baseball cap showing the "Monster" symbol from the rack. In a quick moment the hand reaches out and roughly pushes the hat down on John's head. A rough, high-pitched giggle ensues as John's ears splay ridiculously out from beneath the edges of the hat._

_ John: "Sondra, stop it!"_

_ Sondra: "Oh come on, sweetie. You look so cute in these!"_

_ John: "I do not, now quit it before I throw a croissant at you!"_

_ Another high-pitched giggle, and a flurry of paws showing hats being brandished, picked up and put away. The lens pulls away, and an aged otter comes into view. His face is contorted in a look of rage as he looks directly into the lens. He shouts a loud string of violent French at the lens, punctuating his words with jabs of his crooked fingers. John comes into the frame and speaks French to the otter, gesticulating calming motions with his own hands. There is a heated debate between the otter and John, with much pointing to the camera. Suddenly the lens blurs downward and shows the vixen's shoes, sand-colored sandals. The argument in French continues unabated until three minutes later. John's black tennis shoes come into view and the lens blurs up to the wolf's angry face. It blurs around again to the vixen's joyful face, heavy with eye shadow._

_ Sondra: "I don't think we got on his good side."_

_ The image cuts, and now shows John sitting in a torn cushioned seat. The lens is looking up at him from the side, a worm's-eye view, and a window is to his right. He tries to hide his face by covering it with one of his paws but fails. The chugging, rushing sounds of the subway fills half of the audio._

_ John: "Do we have to do this?"_

_ Sondra: "Yes, we do. Now come on, you promised last week."_

_ John: "Fine..."_

_ Sondra: "Now then, just who are you?"_

_ John sighs heavily._

_ John: "My name is John Kerma, and you, you irritating fox, are Sondra Waco, winner of Australia's least interesting person award."_

_ Sondra: "That's right. And just where are we going?"_

_ John: "We're on a train to Munich, Germany. From there we'll be going to Poland, then to Belarus, heading to the Russian border where we'll find a guide to help take us into the Durer Mountains."_

_ Sondra: "Mm-hmm, and just what will we be doing there?"_

_ John: "We are going to search the cave systems of the Durer Mountains for any evidence of the Homichlophantia civilization, who've become an urban legend to modern archeologists and anthropologists."_

_ Sondra: "But aren't you afraid?"_

_ John: "Of what? They lived five thousand years ago and died one thousand years ago. No government is offering any grants for their discovery anymore, writing it off as a lost cause, so we definitely won't be interrupted by anyone. We've got antidotes for any kind of insect venom known to modern science, enough flares to last us for weeks, and when they run out we've got night-vision goggles. I don't think we'll have anything to worry about."_

_ Sondra: "Famous last words, huh? Well, that'll be all for now, John. But before we get back to our regular programming, I have one last question."_

_ John: "Shoot."_

_ Sondra: "Just who is this Nathan character?"_

_ John's face contorts into a look of shock. The grey fur on his cheeks stand up and his ears twitch backward in obvious embarrassment._

_ Sondra: "Eh? You talk about him in your sleep."_

_ John: "Not now, Sondra."_

_ Sondra: "Oh come on, now..."_

_ John: "I said not now!"_

_ John's paw envelopes the lens, obviously pushing the camera away. He bares his teeth and sits up straighter in his chair, the top of his head vanishing from the lens._

_ Sondra: "Okay, okay. Jesus..."_

_ The lens looks out the window, but sees nothing. The light coming from the camera glares against the window, but the dim outline of the vixen holding the camera is visible. Then the lens cuts again._

_ The new image shows a scenic countryside, dominated by alpine trees and strikingly green grass, blazing away from right to left of the lens. A large row of mountains stood out in the background. The lens cuts again._

_ The image now shows a very industrial area. A sign rushes by, proclaiming "Flughafen Munchen-Franz Josef Strauss," with an arrow pointing to the right. The lens stays on the sign for a moment before it vanishes beyond the bus's window frame. The lens cuts again._

_ There is no light of any kind, no visible thing. The rustling and shifting sounds are the only evidence that the camera is on._

_ Sondra: "Are you going to tell me?"_

_ John: "Tell you what?"_

_ Sondra: "You_ know what."

_ John: "Sondra, please. Not right now."_

_ Sondra: "No. Tell me now."_

_ John lets a long sigh, which the camera registers clearly._

_ John: "Is that damn camera off?"_

_ Sondra: "Yes."_

_ John: "I don't know where to start."_

_ Sondra: "How about at the beginning?"_

_ John: "Ha ha."_

_ The sarcasm in John's voice is unmistakable. The camera shifts slightly, but stays in the same general area._

_ Sondra: "Is it serious?"_

_ John: "No."_

_ Sondra: "Well, who is he?"_

_ John: "Just some kid from high school. We had a thing for each other, but I don't know how it is now."_

_ Sondra: "You must've had one hell of a thing. I've never heard someone call out a person's name like that before."_

_ John: "Mmm."_

_ There is another pause that lasts for only a few seconds._

_ Sondra: "What's he like?"_

_ John: "Please..."_

_ Sondra: "Come on now, Johnny. You just got me interested, you can't wimp out now."_

_ John: "...He's a fox, a much less stubborn and annoying one than you. He's really sensitive and jumpy, though, and he's suspicious of damn near everyone when the right mood hits him. It's really tough to get him to trust you."_

_ Sondra: "But you managed to do it."_

_ John: "I guess I did. I mean, I kind of had to. It was my senior year. I hadn't really had any luck with the girls, and all the guys were either too ignorant or too stupid. Nathan was the only one I knew I had some kind of chance with. He's smart and he's polite, but he can be...needy. And like I've said before, he's as paranoid as Hell. I should've cut the whole thing off when it started."_

_ Sondra: "Ouch. Cold-hearted, much?"_

_ John: "What? I'm telling the truth. It's just that he's so complicated; I never know where I'm at with him. Communication is there, but something gets lost in translation, I guess."_

_ Sondra: "Hmmm."_

_ John: "What?"_

_ Sondra: "Oh nothing. So how's he in bed?"_

_ John: "......Okay. Our last time was his first. I don't think he liked it, though. He was so tense through the whole thing, and he never had any, what's the word, initiative? He let me do virtually everything. And halfway through he made this face that looked like he was disgusted with everything...like I said, lost in translation."_

_ Sondra: "So you two aren't really a thing, then?"_

_ John: "Nope."_

_ Sondra: "How about us?"_

_ John: "Maybe...could be. Would it be possible? I mean, your..."_

*************************************************************************************

Nathan couldn't hear the rest of what was being said, he was running so fast upstairs he could only hear the air rushing into his ears. Tears blinded his vision as he buried his face into the crook of his arm. He rushed into the dining room, sank into one of the chairs and covered his face as he sobbed uncontrollably.

Steven had paused the video the moment Nathan ran upstairs. He stared at the screen with his dual-colored eyes, his expression becoming colder and colder until it looked as though his eyes had frozen over. He clenched his paws until he heard the joints in his knuckles pop, and he made a low growl in his throat. Suddenly, something gave way in his face, making it relax and soften, as though he pulled a string which held his muscles together. He smiled lightly before standing up. He grabbed the television remote, letting it fall into one of the deep pockets of his black pants. He walked up the stairs and headed into the dining room, all with an air of grace and refinement that was made ironic by his attire.

Nathan looked very small seated at the table, with his head buried in his arms. The fur on his elbows were wet and stood on end, and he was visibly shaking. Small, choked, gasping sounds came out from beneath his arms. Steven pulled up one of the chairs closer to Nathan and ran a massive paw along the younger fox's shoulder. Nathan stiffened a little at the touch, but after a short while he quit shaking and managed to control his sobbing. Steven gripped the fox's shoulder tighter, and Nathan raised his tear-stained head, his yellow eyes dark and lost. "How could he say those things? How could he say those things to her?"

"I don't know," Steven said dully. "He's just...he's just not right. Nobody should be doing the things he's done."

"He lied to me," Nathan went on. "He lied about the two of us...I just don't understand."

"Tell you the truth, I can't understand half of it myself. Maybe he interpreted the level of your relationship differently and he realized that you two would crash and burn sooner or later."

"But he was wrong! He said he'd always be with me!"

"As your straight friend, Nathan, it's my firm opinion that that's what they always say."

Nathan sniffed hopelessly. He rested his head in the cradle of his arms again, unsure of what to do. He had never been in a relationship before, so he had no idea how it felt to have that relationship ruptured. The feelings that assaulted him were all so strange to him.

After a short while, he managed to grab one of the thousands of thoughts that fluttered aimlessly through his brain and put it out into the air. "How could he do this?" he said.

He felt the big cat beside him shrug. "Maybe he just went straight."

"Nobody 'just goes straight.'"

"Some do. Some people acknowledge their homosexuality for only a short while, and then they sort of...grow out of it. Like John. He probably just wanted to rebel against something or somebody, and when he got his taste of what it's like he tucked his tail and got out as fast as he could."

"But why me?!" Nathan hissed through bared teeth.

"You heard him, Nathan. You were vulnerable, an easy target, and he saw this and he pounced."

The fox shook his head slowly, his eyes staring straight ahead, looking at things Steven couldn't see. "An experiment," he said quietly. "It's all I ever was to him. He said he loved me, but all I ever was to him was a fucking experiment."

Steven shrugged again. "Maybe. It's possible that in the time he was with you he really did love you, but...like I said; maybe he grew out of it."

Nathan suddenly shot his head up and glared hatefully at Steven, again baring his sharp, white teeth as he shouted. "Don't say that! You make it sound as though I'm a child!"

Steven's eyes remained serene as he leaned away from the younger fox and shook his head fervently. "No, you're not, Nathan. You're strong, a lot stronger and tougher than John evidently makes you out to be. Besides, he was only your first, right?"

Nathan looked away, staring in the same place he was looking at before his outburst. His own eyes grew wide as another thought swooped down and struck him. "I let that fucker fuck me," he said in apparent shock.

Steven leaned away so Nathan wouldn't see the grin that spread across his face. The statement had struck him as most funny, and he tried to control the laughter that pressed against his chest. He sighed through his nose as his face calmed again, just like a river that smoothed over shortly after a rock is thrown into it. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Be that as it may, he was your first boyfriend, right?"

"Yeah..."

"You're a young fox, Nathan. There'll be plenty of others--."

"But what if the next one turns out to be just like him? What if I can't find anyone decent, someone I can trust and won't lie to me? Besides...I think I still love him."

The hand that gripped Nathan's shoulder became stronger, more forceful. "You'd still love a guy who would tell his friends your secrets in bed? Someone who would tell everything there is about you without so much as a care for your feelings? How could you love someone who could hurt you so badly?"

Nathan just shook his head as his body was racked with another bout of sobbing. He held his head in his paws as he cried, not caring about the tears that were making a steadily growing puddle on Steven's table. Suddenly he felt the larger cat push his chair closer to his and felt something warm and soft wrap around his shoulders. In moments he realized that Steven was embracing him. He let himself go limp as he pressed his head into the cat's chest. He could feel the strong muscle beneath the green shirt, and the warmth made him feel a little better as he continued to cry.

"I just want to talk to him...to settle things right. Do you think I can?"

Steven's voice rumbled in the fox's ears. "Maybe later, Nathan. He's in a bad way at the hospital."

Nathan shook his head as he gripped his own stomach when he felt a bucketful of ice suddenly form inside of him at this new bit of information. He just wanted to go home and go to sleep. Maybe he could dream himself away from this. But his friend felt so warm against him, and the gentle rubbing of the big cat's paws against his shoulders was soothing. After a moment, Nathan took in a deep breath and pulled himself from Steven. The cat gave another reassuring rub on his shoulder. "What do you say?" He said. "You wanna finish the video?"

"I think so."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I want to," Nathan said. In a short time they got up from the table and proceeded back downstairs. Nathan found that he was less apprehensive than he was before. He sat back into the couch he had left and found it still warm. "How much is there left of the video?" he asked.

Steven shrugged casually. "An hour or so. But I want to know something before we continue. Do you really want to keep watching this?"

Nathan was about to reply when a sudden thought occurred to him. "Are there any...you know. Scenes of them?"

Steven grinned sardonically and shook his head. "No, no. None of that...but it's still shocking."

"What do you mean by that?"

Suddenly the big cat wheeled on him, his eyes blazing. He bared his glistening white teeth at the smaller fox as he growled. "Do you want to watch it or not?" Nathan's eyes opened wide as he sank deeper into the couch, astonished at Steven's sudden anger. He laid his ears flat against his head and mumbled "Yes."

Steven took out the remote from his pocket and clicked the play button. Nathan was at a loss to understand what he did to bring on this sudden outburst. He shifted nervously when Steven sat down beside him.