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Chapter 8: Desert

Roger woke, but it was difficult. He did not want to get out of bed despite being awake. He did not feel quite right. He figured he was tired.

He rolled out of bed. He hoped he was not getting sick. He managed to drag himself over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

His eyes were bloodshot, but that seemed to be the only problem. He just attributed it to the drowsiness he had been feeling. He thought he had slept fine.

He looked back at his bed. The sheets were tossed around, some on the floor, some not. A pillow was across the room. It looked as if he had been in a fight, and judging by his body, it certainly felt like it. He wondered what had happened.

He attempted to recall the prior night's events. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary after the wolf had left. He went back upstairs and slept, though at the time it took a little while since his mind had been fairly active. Was it something he ate?

He realized he had not eaten at all the previous night. It must have slipped his mind. He felt hungry, but the way the wolf left, he had forgotten.

He went back into his room. No lights were on and the sun had not risen yet, but it rarely was ever up before he was. He was adjusting the dark after having been in the bathroom.

He checked the time, trying to see how much time he had wasted.

The digital clock read that it was merely a few minutes past three. No wonder he was tired, he had hardly gotten any sleep.

He went back to bed , but he was restless. He sat back up and wondered what he should do to kill time. Going too early to school was seen as suspicious and the faculty did not really like that.

His mind was made up as he heard shuffling somewhere in the house. He knew it was his mother, since she often got up around this time, since she usually took a shower and had to depart early to get to work.

The water turned on. He figured he should take one, as well. He had forgotten to do that last night, as well.

He went back into the bathroom, stripping his clothes and took a shower. The water was cool and it helped wake him up slightly, but he did not want to waste too much time in there.

He wrapped a towel around himself and went to search for clothes. He had some folded up in a drawer. In reality, he had a lot of clothes that he never wore stashed away. Much of what he wore on a daily basis was just a repeat of the prior week or two.

He heard more shuffling in the house. He dressed himself and walked toward the origin of the sounds.

He found his mother rummaging through the fridge. He noticed a bag and different items of which would be used to make lunch. He appreciated her daily efforts to keep him fed. Every time he witnessed it, he appreciated it a bit more. She looked tired, as well.

She noticed him and smiled, although her eyes betrayed that she required coffee to be fully functional. Still, she said, "Hey, sweetie. You're up early. Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Just can't sleep, mom, even though I'm tired. I don't know."

She closed the fridge and went toward him. She was a middle-aged fox, reddish-brown fur, orange eyes, and brown socks and ears. A bit of white was at her neck. She hugged him and petted his head and shh'd in his ear. "I'm sorry, honey. It'll be okay."

Nothing was wrong, but that was what she always said. Still, it always worked. He felt calm. His body felt better, but his drowsiness was gone. He hugged her back.

She broke the embrace and went back to making his lunch. She said, "If you want, I can call the school and tell them you're sick."

He said, "No, it's okay. I have to tutor someone, anyway."

She nodded, still working on the food.

He added, "That reminds me, I'll be over at his place to tutor him this time. He's been here the past couple of days, but he hasn't broken or stolen anything, so...."

His mom nodded. She finished the food and packed it up. "Okay. I'll tell your dad. Are you going to head back to sleep?"

Roger shook his head. "No, I'm not tired."

"Would you like me to drop you off at school, then? It's on the way to work," she inquired.

"I don't know if I can get in this early, or even if they'd let me in, if others were there."

His mom shrugged. "I've passed by it, and I see a few that arrive this early."

He figured that he might as well. He had nothing to do this morning, and if he just sat at his desk, he would get tired when it mattered to be awake. They prepared the vehicle.

His backpack sat on his lap in the car as they pulled out of the driveway. He held it close and rested his head on it, relaxing. It was still dark out.

His mother spoke up. "So the one you're tutoring, is... he? She...?"

He added, "He."

She continued, "Is he nice? Do we know him?"

Roger shrugged. "He... he seems nice, I guess." His mind wandered to all the break downs that the wolf had suffered, and his heart sank with guilt. "I feel kind of bad for him, he's really trying."

His mother nodded. "I see."

"Hunter Wright," he added to give identity.

Her ears perked up. "Oh, Ms. Write. I know her, she comes to all of the PTA meetings. She always speaks well of Hunter."

"Hm," was the only response that Roger could think of. He stared out of the window, at the light that the car emitted and played upon the surroundings. He saw only shadows and houses. The trip was not long.

The school came into view. He got out of the vehicle and waved a farewell to his mother. She drove off.

He stood amongst a ghost town. The school was empty at this time, yet some flickering lights remained on throughout the night to offer what illumination they could.

He made his way through the school, finding a bench of which he could sit and think, yet they were all wet with moisture from the night.

He instead sat against the classroom's wall. The door was also wet, but the wall was dry. There was a canopy overhead which also kept some of the floor dry.

He pulled his bag against himself and sighed. He waited in his desert for the life to appear.