Rabbits Don't Tell
"Rabbits Don't Tell"
Click-clack-click-clack.
The bright yellow train moved swiftly along the dirty, city streets. Loose papers and discarded cans followed in the wake along the rails that carried the commuter cars to the next stop.
Click-clack. Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Click-click-click.
The train came to squealing a stop in front of a graffitied wall, the air brakes blowing and hissing loudly as the metal and glass beast came to rest. The doors squeaked open for each car, allowing the cold, October air to invade the passenger compartments.
A wind from high up in the canyon of glass and steel and stone whipped down through the skeletal trees, whistling through their bare limbs. The wind also pushed a coffee cup along the red stone of the plaza, past and empty trash can and its blue sign thanking the reader for not littering.
Among the trash and trees and benches were the furs. Mostly rabbits of various colors, but a few mice as well. The city wasn't segregated by design, but most furs tended to stick with their own kind. Foxes stayed uptown and usually drove themselves around, while the wolves kept to the suburbs. Scarves and coats helped to keep them warm on that unusually cold mid autumn day.
Among the crowd of rabbits getting on the train and mice getting off was a young cinnamon-brown lop rabbit with medium length headfur, just a bit darker than her face. She was chubby, but most female rabbits tended to be a bit curvy. Like the many others she wore her coat that day; a long, black raincoat tied at the waist.
She was bumped and jostled as other furs rushed by in either direction. She felt a mild panic, but kept it in check for the time being as she timidly squeezed through the doors.
The inside of the train was clean for the most part, but a few of the seats had holes poked through the vinyl and most of the surfaces were defaced by markers and pencils. Much of the compartment was empty as well as she looked around.
A brown college age mouse in a red running jacket sat in the far corner with headphones in his ears. A young, black rabbit in loose fitting athletic gear sat across the aisle from the doors and looked the cinnamon doe over with his dark eyes while he chewed his gum. A mixed couple, a red fox and white rabbit, kissed passionately in seats near the front of the car.
"What's your name, bunny?" the black rabbit asked of the doe. She started to walk off and not answer, but felt that the harassment would continue if she ignored him.
"Canella," she said meekly. She stepped fully into the cabin, her black low-heeled shoes sticking to the metal floor a bit.
"That's a fine name for a fine female," the black rabbit said, nodding with his whole body.
Canella decided to walk away, moving toward the back, taking a seat a few rows up from the mouse and near a scrawled message in permanent marker that read "El amore es un asesino". She adjusted her coat and her modest green skirt beneath. That was not her first trip on the train, but it was her first trip out alone since moving to the city for school in September.
She slipped her paws into the deep pockets of her coat and fished out her bible and glasses. She knew it would be at least an hour to her destination, so she thought to bring something to read.
Ding-ding. Ding-ding.
The doors screamed shut and the train shifted slightly as it hissed its brakes again to fill them with air. The electric motors that drove the wheels whirred to life and began pulling the train and its passengers along its set course. The click-click of the tracks subsided as they left the stop and started off on a long stretch without a stop. The ride was surprisingly quiet save the whirr of the motors and the occasional woosh that followed upon passing a pole or guardrail.
Canella put on her glasses and opened her bible to the beginning of John and started to read to herself. She read through the first few versus before an uneasy feeling gave a chill down her spine. She looked up to see the black rabbit lounging in the seats across from her. He stared into her, leering suggestively.
"You're making me uncomfortable, sir," she said softly, her eyes shifting from the black rabbit to her black-bound bible.
"Come on, Canella bunny. Is a real rabbit like me too much for you? You don't think you can handle it?" He stood up and stepped closer, reaching out to brush the bangs of her headfur away from her eyes.
"Stop," the brown mouse ordered. His voice was full of irritation. He moved between the two rabbits and stared up at the black rabbit who was nearly twice the mouse's size.
"Squeak-squeak, little mouse. You best just get back in your seat." The black buck postured and pulled up his sleeves, showing his arms scarred with symbols for his gang.
The mouse stood silently. He didn't pose or pomp, but stood strong and calm. He didn't blink, didn't twitch a whisker, barely breathed. The black rabbit took a swing, but pulled his punch an inch or so from the mouse's face. The little brown mouse didn't flinch.
"Forget you," the black buck went, waving them off as he moved back toward the front of the car.
"Thank you," the cinnamon doe smiled.
"You're welcome. I can't stand for it when furs act like jerks around ladies," the red-jacketed mouse said, starting back to his seat in the corner.
"My name's Canella." She offered her paw.
"Elijah," the mouse replied, taking her paw in his briefly. "You might want to get some mace or something if you're going to be riding alone so much."
"Thank you. I just moved here and I'm still trying to find my way around." She took off her glasses and looked up at Elijah with her big, brown eyes. "You can sit here if you like," she suggested, patting the seat perpendicular to her own.
"Would it make you feel better if I sat there?"
Canella nodded, a smile across her furry muzzle. "Nobody's ever stood up for me before."
Elijah sat down and slipped his headphones into his jacket. "I didn't feel right sitting there while you were getting harassed."
Canella looked over the mouse, noticing the embroidered logo on his lapel and sleeve. "Do you go to the university too?"
Elijah nodded. He seemed to not be interested in talking, but was too concerned about her feelings to leave.
"I go there too. I just started. I'm from a little town out in the middle of nowhere, so this is all such a shock for me," Canella said, playing with one of her long, hanging ears. "How long have you lived here?"
"My whole life," he answered.
The train shook a little as it made a wide turn to the north. The click-clack click-click started again as they neared the next stop. Elijah stood, but paused, watching the black buck who stayed put. The mouse sat back down reluctantly.
"When's your stop?" Elijah asked.
"Acorn," Canella answered. She winced at Elijah's reaction, throwing his paws up and shaking his head. "I'm sorry. You don't have to stay."
"It's ok. Not your fault. I just don't want him coming after you when I leave."
Ding-ding. Ding-ding.
Canella looked oddly at Elijah, slipping her bible and glasses back into her pockets. The train squealed to a stop, the brakes hissing again and finally the doors whining open. The black rabbit kept his eyes on the pair and stood, walking out onto the platform.
"He might come back in through one of the other cars. I'll stick with you to be sure." Elijah settled in, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets.
"It's not necessary. I'd hate to keep you," Canella protested. She turned her head at a noise from the far end of the cabin. She was appalled to see the white doe's leg hanging over the back of the seat and the fox's tail swishing near that. "What are they doing?" she said loudly. Knowing full well what they were doing.
"The joys of public transportation," Elijah said ironically. "If you want to avoid people like this, it's best to go to the front car. That's where the cops sit."
"Why are you here instead of up there?" she observed. She looked up again and saw the white doe's legs sticking straight out, her toes curled.
"I like being left alone. This is really crowded for the middle car."
That stop was even less appealing than the one where Canella had been waiting. The graffiti was less stylized and had become vulgar and profane with any number of gang symbols on the walls, benches and trees. Canella looked around and wondered at the mentality of those who sought to deface property and mark it for their territory.
"Do you live around here?" she asked after a moment.
"No. I just have a friend that I wanted to check in on."
"This is a rough neighborhood," she suggested, making a point to look at the tall brick wall covered in various colors and designs painted one over another.
"It's not so bad. You just have to be careful how to act and who you hang with." Elijah pulled up his sleeve and checked his watch. He didn't have scars on his arms like the black rabbit and that reassured Canella.
"Should I be worried hanging around you?" she grinned, trying to bring some light to the conversation.
"I'm actually worried being with you," Elijah explained. "You're a rabbit, so you have a bit of a protected status around here. Though some of the thugs might mess with you for being female, I doubt anything would happen."
Ding-ding. Ding-ding.
The doors shut a little more easily that time. The train hissed and whirred to life, pulling itself down the tracks once again to the familiar click-click sound.
"I'm a target, just like that fox, for being near you," Elijah continued.
"But why? Who I want to be around is my business," Canella protested.
Elijah nodded and looked out as they crossed on to the bridge over the narrow, shallow river that ran from the city. "There's a song. It's called 'Rabbits Don't Tell' and it talks about all the does hooking up with other species and leaving nothing for the bucks so they kill all the other males and they won't snitch on their own. It's probably not so much an issue where you're from, but here it's a matter of cultural pride and pride for your species and heritage."
"I've never heard of that," she admitted.
"Females are possessions being stolen away by outsiders. It's pretty offensive to anyone with a lick of sense."
Canella considered what he said for a moment. She grew up in a place where females were generally submissive, but where they were not considered inferior in any way, and where they were certainly not considered to be objects owned by males.
"Is there anything else I should know?" she asked cautiously.
Elijah thought a moment. "Go where there are police when you're in an unfamiliar place. Be aware of your surroundings. That's pretty much it."
"I really appreciate you helping me like you did," she said again.
"Don't mention it. I'm glad I could help." Elijah seemed more relaxed. He noticed how much Canella looked at him, looked him over.
Canella bit her lip and smiled as she rummaged in her pockets again, finding a pen. "You have a piece of paper?"
Elijah checked his pockets and found a folded menu for a Chinese restaurant. "Will this work?"
The cinnamon doe nodded and started writing. After a moment she offered the paper back to him.
The mouse took the paper and looked. "What's this?" he asked, knowing for certain it was her phone number and email address.
"I'd like to keep in touch. I mean I owe you dinner or coffee or something for helping me. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't stood up for me." She pulled her head forward over her shoulders and tried to look as cute as possible. She wasn't too experienced at flirting, but she hoped she was sending the right message.
"Are you asking me out?" Elijah chuckled. "You know I'm a mouse, right?"
Canella laughed and pushed the mouse lightly on the shoulder. "Of course I do, silly," she cooed.
Click-clack. Click-Clack.
The train approached the last stop for Canella. Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Hissss. Squeeeeal. The doors opened silently. The red fox and white doe staggered out the door. Canella and Elijah watched them hanging off one another, almost falling as they stepped out the door.
"I hate to ask," Canella coughed. "Could you walk me home? It's getting dark out."
The mouse looked at the paper with Canella's information, little ears drawn on the 'C'. "Sure." He smiled and nodded, standing and offering his arm. She was a full head taller than he as she stood. He didn't seem to care, so she just hooked her paw through his elbow and held herself warmly against his arm.
"Can I ask you something really personal?" Canella asked as the pair stepped through the door. The last stop was at an actual station on Acorn St. There was no graffiti, no gang signs. The plants were all evergreen and some of the shrubs were in late bloom.
"I can't guarantee I'll answer," he replied, looking to her with a playful smile.
Their shoes scraped on the concrete block as they stepped along the well-lighted walkway. The sun was just about to move below the horizon, and it covered the world and its occupants in a deep orange hue.
"Are you a Christian?" she asked through a lump in her throat.
"Yes," he answered softly. "Are you?"
"Of course," she giggled. "That's why I asked you. I was kind of worried."
"That's a dedication that isn't too common around here. It's hard to imagine potentially turning down someone for a date because of their beliefs."
They walked through the wrought iron gate out to the street. The neighborhood was nice. Not too upscale, but well kept.
"Have they changed the rules?" Elijah asked, realizing where they were. "I thought first year students have to stay in the dorm."
"How do you know I'm a first year student?"
"You said you just moved here. If you were second year, you would have already been here." The mouse smiled, knowing that his listening skills and memory would give him some bonus points with the rabbit girl.
"Maybe I'm a transfer student," she offered.
"Are you?"
Canella laughed. "No. I live at the dorm, but my cousin has an apartment here and I like to stay with her on the weekends."
"You're pretty quick. I really like that," he smiled.
The apartment complex was butted against the station. Large, stucco walls, painted a pleasant taupe were partially obscured by great, leafless trees. There was a gate that required a code which Canella quickly entered.
"It's right there," Canella pointed. They walked up to the apartment door, 101, and stood facing one another for a moment.
"I'll give you a call." Elijah
"When you get home," she suggested. "I want to be sure you're ok."
"I'll be fine."
"I just want to be sure," she said, taking his paws in hers.
Elijah lifted her paws and kissed each lightly on the back. "I'll call."
"Would you like to come to church here on Sunday?" Canella offered. "It's really nice and there's a great mix of furs."
The mouse laughed. "That really never happens here." He stopped his laughter and smiled up at her. "I'd love to."
They stood awkwardly before the door, not sure how to part, excited to know more about one another, full of questions. They held one another's paws and looked into each other's eyes.
"May I kiss you?" Elijah asked softly.
"Yes," Canella glowed. She leaned down a bit and closed her eyes. Elijah tilted his head and pressed his lips lightly to hers, giving a small kiss.
"I'll talk to you in a little bit," he said. "I need to get going or I'll be here all night."
"Ok," Canella sighed. She leaned in and stole another kiss, giggling lightly.
"Take care." He slowly backed away, his paws holding hers until his arms reached full length, then his fingers slid along hers, pausing and reluctantly breaking the touch.
"You too. Be careful," she said, leaning against the wall, watching as her new mouse friend left the light of the porch and went into the shadows along the street.
"I will," he called back. He made his way back to the train station, his step a bit lighter and his buzz in his chest. He wondered if she would give her cousin all the details of their meeting, or if it was true that, rabbits don't tell.