Big Brother's Room
Big Brother's Room by Athalon> It was dark when I awoke, alone and small, in my room. Mom and Dad were surely asleep, and the whole house itself dozed quiet. With eyes closed tight, it huddled as under sheltering blankets, while the night breeze of the New England autumn drew sad, vacant moans from around the eves and windows. I love Fall: long late-afternoon walks with my big brother through the darkening woods, the gloomy-gray sky striving with the cheery turning maple leaves; and getting to wear my neatest bulky sweaters; nuts and pumpkins and roasted apples and cranberries to eat, and porridge in the mornings and cocoa after sledding; the high, exciting, smoky smell and the bright crackle of fireplaces. And Harvestfest and Yule, of course.
But not at night. Not with the Vigils of the Dead so close, and winter hard on its heels. The Moon-Goddess is a huntress. Autumn is not kind to imaginative young boys at night.
The smooth oaken floor was icy cold as my paws touched it, and a rattle at the night-bright window and a gust of wind-scream forced an sudden eep from me. I hopped right back into my bed, to burrow snug and safe under the covers. I'd only started sleeping in flannel boxers a little while ago, and my friendly footed pj's had been folded and tucked away for good. Made me feel all grown up, like my big brother Anews, sleeping in my undies like that. Sometimes. But Anews never felt afraid of the dark, I bet.
I found my socks and my courage, and padded silently down the long, dark hall, and into the kitchen. My bright orange fur was nearly colorless in the cold, haunted moonlight streaming past the geraniums on the window sill, and the brand-new teenage cinnamon-colored guard hairs poking through my softer, woolly baby-fur, nearly invisible. I was still pretty small for a ferret of thirteen, but Anews always promised I'd grow when the time came. I climbed up onto a stool in the pantry, and reached a couple of big, soft cookies, that Mom had just baked, out of the heavy earthen jar on the counter. Plus an extra, for good measure. With a mug of fresh, rich milk, warmed for a second in the microwave, I went to the big, cozy wing-back chair in front of the fireplace - dead and dusky now, but fragrant with the memory of fire - to look out at the Goddess of Night and the approaching winter.
When I'd finished my snack, I wrapped up the extra cookie in a napkin, and washed out my mug. No sense in making Mom mad in the morning. I was already getting sleepy again from the sugary stuff, yawning a bit as I scrubbed my paws dry on the towel hanging from the oven door. I made my way drowsily back down the hall, tiptoeing past my parents' room, and was almost to my own room, when I noticed Anews' bedroom door open just a crack.
Anews had gotten home after I went to bed, it seemed. Working late, probably. He'd have to get up for school in the morning, too, and so I suppose he went right to bed himself. I hadn't gotten to see him since that morning, and I felt a little lonely right then - awake by myself in the scary part of night. With one paw on his doorknob, and the last cookie in the other, I poked my narrow muzzle into the room, my round, black eyes wide and shining in the moonlight.
Anews was snug on his side on his high bed, the outline of his body softened by the darkness, and a thick and heavy comforter. The moon-goddess made the soft, light blue fur on his face seem to glow, and she cast mysterious shadows in the darker, rich blue fur between his ears. His gentle feline muzzle stuck out above the edge of the covers, and his cool, inquisitive nose pointed my way. It was nice and warm in there - warmer than my room, anyway - and I sniffed soap and vanilla and sweet-spicy things. Anews must have grabbed a shower before bed, I decided. And it smelled like Anews, too: the warm scent of sleeping bags in the rainy woods overnight, and campfires, and the sun on flower-fields in springtime, and leather boots on a hike, and wet fur from splashing around in the lake. Oh, and pizza - I bet you can't guess where my big brother worked.
I padded quietly over to where he was curled up, sleeping, and set the cookie silently on his nightstand, next to the glass of water he kept there at night. And his pocketknife. I was always fascinated that he was so grown up - he even got to carry a knife with him. I was proud of my big brother, and wanted to be like him so much. He was still snoring, with a gentle whistling sound that made me grin, and I laid the knife gently back in its place. Quietly and carefully, I climbed up to sit on the high bed beside him.
Anews' face looked so sweet and peaceful and gentle there in the moonlight. He was my big brother, sure, and made me respect and obey him sometimes. But usually he was just fun and kind and cool to be with. The strong line of his jaw was softened by the scruffy blue coat which grew there; and his sweet, gentle half-smile, by a light furriness there, as well. His perky, feline ears twitched a little in sleep, and the dark rounded triangle of his nose moved a bit, and was still. I wondered what mischief he was dreaming up. Maybe something for us to get into on Saturday - he was always looking for something to get up to. His whiskers twingled, picking up the moonlight, as I imagined him coming up with the neatest things to do. I could always count on him.
The comforter was cool and tickly as I traced his outline ever so lightly with my paw, growing warmer as I pressed deeper into the thick, fluffy coverlet. Over his strong shoulder the paw went, along Anews' side and trim flank, his big, round hip and his muscular thigh. My brother was seventeen, and so much bigger than me. I was always amazed whenever I looked at his body, so grown-up and stuff. He was just so damned cool. There was a curious stirring under the covers at Anews' middle, and my cautious paw found his tail curled there, laid across his leg in sleep. I loved his tail, with that furry blue tuft on the end that I used to floof up real big. My tail's sorta plain, and not as long - no tuft, either. I didn't floof him right then, just softly stroked his wonderful tail under the comforter.
But the cookie-sleep was catching up with me, and I had to get back to bed. I had to get up for school in the morning, too. Cautiously I moved to climb down from the Anews' bed, with one last look at my brother. And then suddenly realized I loved him so much, and I didn't know what I'd do without him - I know it's silly, but the dead, deep hours of a cold autumn morning sometimes make me feel like that, like hiding myself under the blankets and crying. I leaned forward to give him a gentle boykiss, and a soft ferret nuzzle.
I sat up, and turned to slide off the bed, when a pair of beautiful cat-eyes fluttered open, staring up close into my face - a little dazedly, and then with growing recognition. Anews smiled, and yawned widely, showing sharp, white fangs in the dim light.
"Hi, Squirt", he said, sleepily. He always calls me stuff like that, even though my name's Athalon. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Yeah. Sorry I woke you up. Brought you a cookie, though." I motioned to the nightstand. He didn't look angry at all.
"Thanks. Hay, are you cold, lil' bro? Yer shivering..."
He pulled me under the covers, backing me up to his chest and belly. I sighed and shivered more as he frisked out the cold air trapped in my fur. He wrapped me up tight in his strong arms, and curled his tail between my legs, to caress my lower belly. I smiled, and murred sleepily, and wrapped my own small tail firmly across his thigh, snuggling back against my big bro, and hugging his big, strong, enveloping arms with my own little ones. Anews began to purr, and I drifted away in warmth and fur and his comforting catscent, permeated by the soothing sounds of his own deep, sleepy pleasure.
The goddess bothered us not at all, the rest of the night.