FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Part 5

As strange as it might have sounded, Erik found his first Wednesday of work required far more getting used to than he'd expected. Sure, it involved stacking those same shelves in that same busy supermarket, but the little things came together to create subtle differences. He encountered colleagues throughout the day that he'd barely, if ever, seen before. Not only that, but the lack of Ivan skulking around, barking orders and bludgeoning home the fact that said shelves wouldn't stack themselves came as a welcome change. These contrasts played on his mind, even as he headed into the last of his eight hour workday.

Allowing his cart to drift absently to a stop, Erik turned his attention to the gaps dotted about the wall of canned food beside him. Even amid the novelty of this initial Wednesday shift, he'd remained able to plot his workload and leave the aisle bordering the Polcian section until last.

At this quieter point of the day, building up to the usual post-work evening rush, Erik could restock these shelves at his own pace. Not only that, but this period of relative calm also enabled him to peer beyond them without much risk of disruption.

"I wonder what it'd be like if we were all together," Erik muttered to himself, lifting a box of tinned tomatoes from his trolley and shifting over to the first gap to be filled. "If the Polcian area was just a raised, railed off floor like in stores downtown, would it be so bad?"

He grabbed a can from inside, holding it there before the small, empty space bordering the Polcian store beyond. "Maybe it'd help us all feel together... like we're the same and not all that different. Maybe that would help stop all the disagreements." Sighing heavily, he began placing can after can onto the shelf, soon plugging the gap completely. "Maybe."

With the box empty, Erik folded and tossed it lazily back onto his cart. Almost robotically, he grabbed and dropped the next case in line to the ground, taking a knee to get level with another empty section just above waist height.

"Can't wait to go home," Erik grumbled tiredly, exposing the claw of his index finger to slice through the box's packing tape. He shifted closer to the shelving, intending to determine how many cans to unpack. Instead, he found himself poised for a view down onto the Polcian area's shop floor. A pleasant smile spread slowly, the milling of the smaller shoppers fast beckoning Erik's attention from his work.

"I wonder if Piet is anywhere near," he pondered out loud, moments before a black-striped, amber-furred paw reached past his head to grab a can of green beans from the shelf.

Erik glanced up sheepishly, finding a middle-aged tigress staring back at him. Their awkward deadlock persisted for what had to have been the longest second in history, though thankfully the customer eventually walked away with little more than a perplexed frown.

"Whatever," Erik gruffed quietly, returning to the shelf and that lying beyond it. He crept further forward, bringing his nose within touching distance of the see-through panel at the back of the unit. From here, he hovered close enough to make out the top level of the scaled-down shelving set up against the divider. Still, Erik worked to get even closer, until a slip of his foot on the slick supermarket flooring brought his chin slamming down into the metal panel below.

A few Polcians in the aisle nearest stopped dead in their tracks, casting shocked, curious glances in all directions. Erik flinched back, aghast at the reaction he'd caused beyond the glass.

He froze, staring intensely until one by one the shoppers started to move again. Eventually he could be forgiven for thinking that nothing had happened in the first place.

"I should be more careful," Erik chuckled with relief, carefully pulling back completely to return to his stock stacking.

"What is funny?"

He snapped his gaze up to the origin of that unmistakably accented voice. "Viktor?"

The broad elk loitered there, leaning against the stock trolley in a green shirt one size too small. "I am shocked to hear you laugh while working. Usually we are lucky to see you smile!"

Erik hesitated, still surprised by his friend's sudden appearance. "I... Nothing. Just a joke I heard earlier today."

"Right." Viktor flashed a smile. "You know, I forgot that today you would be here."

"Same... I'm surprised that we missed each other all day."

"Not a surprise. Today, I work evening shift, so I have only just started." He cracked his knuckles with a grunt. "The last before my free day."

"Hope it passes fast for you."

"I hope for this, also." Viktor peered down towards the large gap Erik had left behind on the shelf. "Ah... Perhaps what you are finding funny is through here?" The smile on his face grew slowly to become a grin.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing." He bent down to bring his head level with Erik's, plucking a can from the box still set on the floor. "It is just funny sometimes... funny to think of them next door, scurrying as they do."

Erik frowned, but remained quiet as he shifted to stand.

"Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if this shelf were not here. If there was no divide." The big elk began passing the tin of tomatoes between his hands, grin morphing into a sly smirk. "I wonder what would happen if something were to fall and land over there."

"You... what?"

"I am thinking the scurrying, it would become so very much faster." Viktor snorted, practically throwing the can around now as he faced the shelving. "What do you think?"

Erik couldn't look him in the eyes, such was his hurt in that moment. Truthfully, he didn't know what had upset him the most: the words themselves, or the fact that they came from the mouth of someone he considered a friend.

"Wait... You are not...?"

Finally, he turned to Viktor. "Not what?"

"One of... them."

Erik gritted his teeth, breathing strengthening until heavy gusts were blasting through his nose. The trials and tribulations of the previous year burst forth to flood into his mind. His paw turned to a fist, trembling terribly as the memory of his brother, Yuri, came to the fore. "Them?" he growled, bringing Viktor up to his own feet. "You mean someone that doesn't share the same... opinions as people like you!?"

"No--"

"In that case, yes, I am one of them," Erik spat, the bridge of his muzzle creasing. Yuri's image faded, replaced instead by the thought of Pieter. He could see him standing there beyond the divide, calmly going about his business while dozens of other Polcians did the same. Not one of them knew of Viktor's statement, nor even of his presence here. Somehow, that made it only feel worse.

"Calm down," Viktor rumbled from above, voice deep and raspy. "It was just joke."

"It wasn't funny."

"Since when do you care so much?"

"When people started having problems about them being here!" Erik noticed the sandy-furred corsac fox striding past with his shopping cart, ears perked to their conversation. Not that he cared, the release of his building frustration continuing unchecked. "When the time came that we needed things like this." He swung an arm at the shelving unit. "Things to make Polcians feel safer from what some sizeist moron might cause."

"I am not sizeist!" Viktor snapped. "I just know they are so very happy to come and to take our money, then complain about how they are treated." He jabbed a finger down into Erik's chest, accent growing ever thicker as his own anger built. "They do not have to be here. They can stay in their own districts, or... they can go home. Do not be such a bleeding heart."

"Bleeding heart!?" Erik cried, tail lashing as he batting his arm away. "Tell me, how would you like it if someone joked about, or worse, actually tossed something huge into our store. Would you be laughing when it knocked things down, started hurting people?" The broad elk looked away with a twitch of his nostrils. "That's what I thought. Not such a funny joke now, is it? And you wonder why they complain!"

"Forget this." Viktor stomped forward, knocking Erik off-balance as he bundled past and marched off down the aisle. "I need to go back to work."

"Fine!" he roared back, grabbing the handle of his stock cart to save himself from crashing into the shelving. "Fuck you, too!"

Viktor didn't react, rounding the corner to disappear for the remainder of the shift.

"Fuck him," Erik grunted, slamming open his locker. The hour spent finishing up his work had only served to let him dwell upon their argument. "Idiots like him are why it's so hard for people like Pieter to be here." He snatched up his coat and backpack, further disrupting the lifeless grey room by smashing the door closed again. "It's why Polcians need protecting and why everything here is such a fucking struggle for everyone!"

With two irate strides, Erik moved to the end of the locker row and thumped down heavily into a dusty, plastic chair. "This damn country... Why do we make things so difficult for ourselves!?"

For the next few minutes he stewed; analysing and dissecting what Viktor had said. Shock came first; leaving Erik to wonder how a so-called friend could talk about Polcians as if they were less than people.

Cold, hard realisation followed. The more he reflected on it, the more Erik appreciated that, really, he didn't know Viktor that well. After all, he'd only been working here for little over a month. How could somebody possibly know everything about a person after such a short space of time? They just couldn't.

Regardless, it didn't sit right. Was Viktor really a sizeist? Did he really think so little of Polcians that he'd actually threaten them? Erik wondered if he'd overreacted. Perhaps what Viktor said really was just an ill-judged joke at their expense. In the grand scheme of things, Polcians here had been subjected to far worse than that before. A fact Erik knew only too well.

"If he can find something like that funny, that's bad enough." He glared over at Viktor's locker opposite, sensing his anger ignite all over again. "No. That's it."

Erik jumped back out of his seat with a snarl, clenching his belongings to himself before storming off towards the exit. "I want nothing more to do with him!"

The door thudded open against the adjacent wall, startling one fellow worker to a standstill as they passed outside. At this point, Erik couldn't have cared less about the reaction his rage had won. He strode out into the corridor, passing the wide-eyed white wolf without even a grunt of acknowledgment as he took his leave for another evening.

"Hi, Erik!"

Rounding the last of the old carts collecting rust in the alley, Erik finished his short walk to the Polcian staff entrance. He peered downwards, finding Pieter waiting for him atop the raised walkway connecting it. The bitter night air, the freedom from work and that cheerful greeting combined to help cool his temper. "Hey, Piet. How was your day?"

"Decent enough. Thank you." Pieter beamed a smile; one that faltered once he seemingly spotted the tension that Erik couldn't shake off. "I'm guessing... yours must have been a little more difficult."

"Yes," he sighed. "You could say this."

"Sorry to hear." Pieter looked away, rubbing his arm until those little round ears suddenly perked up. "Oh, hey! There was that big, loud bang this afternoon, not long before my shift ended. I think the whole store stopped for a moment. Sounded like the roof was going to fall in." He glanced back up with almost expectant eyes. "Did you hear anything your side?"

"I..." Erik hesitated this time. "No, I didn't... Maybe somebody dropped something big in our area of the store... close to you."

"That's what most of us figured, but we can't tell for certain from our side what happens on yours." He smirked and chuckled gently. "You Velikans, you should be more careful! We don't want any unexpected surprises."

Erik reached up to rub his eyes, using his paw to mask the grimace he couldn't stop from giving in response.

"Are you okay, Erik? You seem... upset." Pieter cocked his head with a curious frown. "You're still wearing your uniform. Didn't you want to change into something warmer for the trip back home?"

Erik took a step back and peered down at himself. Only then did he realise he'd left his warm winter clothes in his backpack, his thin, nylon work shirt and trousers doing little against the now evident chill in the air. "Oh."

"In a rush to get out?"

"You could say that." He wasted no time in slipping on his big jacket, still stowed under his arm, grateful for its protection against the elements. "I had a... small argument today."

"An argument? With who?"

Erik lowered himself to hover a short distance higher than the walkway supporting Pieter. "With someone I thought was a friend, in fact."

"Over what?"

He sucked in a breath to answer, but only managed to exhale a soft grumble. Divulging the truth in its entirety didn't seem like the sensible thing to do. "He was being... unprofessional."

"How do you mean?"

"Saying... doing things that he shouldn't." Erik frowned and folded his arms forcefully, tail whipping about as if he were telling Viktor off all over again. "There was no way I could let him get away without saying something. He didn't like it, so we argued."

"Wow," Pieter snickered "I thought, like me, you didn't care about this job, other than for the money it pays."

"You're right. I don't care about the job."

"So, I'm shocked you would shout at someone over it."

"Job or not... there are some things that just can't be permitted, regardless of when and where it happens."

"To get you this annoyed, it must have been something serious." He took a step forward to stand beside the walkway railing. "So I would suggest you don't feel bad about it."

"I'll try at least." Erik huffed heavily, reaching out with cupped paws. "Let's go home. Hopefully that will help to lift my mood."

For the most part it did; his ill-feeling towards Viktor left largely out in the cold as he carried himself and Pieter inside. A pleasant buzz of activity drifted between these four walls, soothing Erik just as much as the warmth also greeting them. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been this happy to get home, but the sensation came most welcome.

"Hello," he called, hanging up his jacket before padding into the living room with Pieter in paw.

"Hello, dear." His mother sat relaxed upon the couch, her white fur yellowed by the homely glow of the floor lamp standing in the far corner. She leaned forward to set her teacup down atop the coffee table, placing it close to where Karin sat. "How was your day?"

"Not bad, I guess."

"Only 'not bad'?"

"Yeah." Erik stopped beside the table, reaching down to deposit Pieter next to his waiting wife. "It's a long story."

He watched Karin set her own, smaller cup upon the pine wood table, standing from the tiny cushion she'd been using to welcome her husband home. They hugged gently, greeting one another in Meerlander before moving into a conversation of their own. Following suit, Erik turned to his own native tongue. "How has your day been?"

"Very good, thank you!" his mother replied brightly. "We had a lovely afternoon, talking and sharing stories. Karin told me more about Meerland, and I told her more about Velika." She peeked at Karin briefly, smiling even wider. "After that, I have been thinking it would be good to take her, Pieter and the children out to show them more than just our home while they are staying here."

"It would." Erik shifted on his feet, the events of a few hours ago still fresh in his mind. "We'll have to find... good places to take them."

"Karin mentioned earlier that it is Thijs' birthday in two weeks." She leaned closer to the arm of the couch, keeping her voice low. "Perhaps we can arrange something for him. Maybe we can make a journey into the city, to a nice restaurant, or for a day out in the park."

"I... do like the sound of that." Erik could sense his mother's enthusiasm spreading, helping to gradually confine the memory of the day to the back of his mind entirely. "Speaking of Thijs, where is he?"

"He and Anika have been upstairs since they arrived home from school, studying before dinner." She glimpsed at the backpack hanging from Erik's paw, then to him again. "If you're going upstairs to change, could you let them know it will be ready soon?"

"Sure." Yet another reminder that he'd forgotten to change from his uniform. "It'll be good to get out of this and get comfortable."

The blend of aromas wafting from the kitchen tickled Erik's nose as he passed, lingering until he reached the top of the staircase. He stepped past the uppermost book acting as part of the makeshift, scaled-down version he'd set, turning towards his bedroom door on the left-hand side of the landing.

Erik pressed his paw to the wooden panelling, though stopped short from continuing on inside. Like his own, the door sat perpendicular to his right also rested narrowly ajar.

"Odd," he muttered beneath his breath, stepping back. "Yuri's room is never open."

Shuffling towards the back of the landing, Erik's had his mind set on pulling the door closed. In the moment taken to reach it however, to clasp its metal handle and for his muscles to twitch, his interest had piqued. Slowly, he nudged the door open, revealing more of the darkness lying beyond.

In the eight months since his brother had been sentenced, only their mother had set foot inside. If anyone had left the door open that day, it would have followed one of her increasingly frequent, almost timetabled cleanings.

With a timid, uneasy step, one that came with the notion of treading ground he wasn't sure ought to be tread, Erik slipped his head around the door to investigate further.

Nighttime overwhelmed the furnishings inside, with only the light of the landing seeping in to turn them into little more than dull, lifeless silhouettes.

Yuri's bed rested in the corner opposite, perfectly made up as if crying out for use. Surrounding it, Erik could make out the outlines of the various trinkets, toys and ornaments his brother had left behind. He reached out to the wall just inside the door, flipping on the lights with a click that punctuated the silence.

Old model cars, a money box and various other knick-knacks sat organised upon the modest desk adjacent to the bed. Towering above them both, his old wardrobe stood in the corner directly ahead of Erik, no doubt housing the clothes Yuri had left upon moving out, and now abandoned for several years at least.

All this aside, the room sat practically empty. None of the sports equipment his brother owned could be found, nor his old gaming consoles. The magazines, music discs and old movies that used to litter every surface here had also gone. He couldn't be sure if they'd left with Yuri, whether he'd sold them all for money at his lowest ebb, or if their mother had simply cleared it all out. All Erik did know was that the room had become a sparse shadow of what he remembered.

With another hesitant step, Erik moved fully past the door and inside. The vague, aging smell of floor cleaner and furniture polish floated past his nose, replacing any lingering trace of his brother's scent.

Those objects arranged upon Yuri's desk regained Erik's attention, floorboards whining softly as he shuffled over to stand before them. Among the toys and other tiny trinkets sat a small pile of photos, half-buried beneath some old, faded lock box that'd clearly seen better days.

Erik picked the wooden chest up in a paw, giving the small lock and handle a quick once over. "I dont remember this... I wonder where Ma found it."

Setting the box down to one side, he turned his attention back to the now fully exposed collection of photographs. They looked dated, the glossy paper barely shimmering in the light as Erik thumbed slowly through them. Most of the images proved unremarkable; an out of focus selection of snaps featuring trees, lakes and other unidentifiable countryside. He'd just about lost interest with them completely when something different caught his eye.

A young tiger, probably not yet even in his teens, glowered back at Erik from the image. "Yuri... I remember this."

Decked out in full school uniform, his brother stood less than impressed at the foot of the front steps outside. Erik's mind travelled back the decade or so to the moment this picture came to be. He remembered standing beside his excited, camera-wielding mother, pulling all kinds of faces at Yuri as he posed begrudgingly before his first day of high school.

"Chased me all around the house that evening," Erik chuckled to himself, sliding the photo to the back of pile.

The next picture's subject matter proved not to be so clear initially. He squinted hard, closer inspecting the dark, red and gold-flared image. Eventually, Erik could see his brother's image, staring in awe at something beyond the camera's view.

Judging by the sparks and the darkened machinery in the background, this photo had been captured at the ironworks their father worked at when they were younger. Erik had often been taken there himself, and could recall the terrifying amount of noise audible even beyond the safety glass that kept them from the factory floor. Yuri always enjoyed those visits a whole lot more. If it hadn't closed down a few years down the line, there's no doubt he'd have grown up to work there alongside their father. There's no doubt things would have ended up different for him and his family.

Another flick of the wrist moved Erik on to the next photo in line, one that froze him fast and stilled his breathing as it pulled him even further into the past. There in his paw sat a picture he'd never seen, capturing a moment that he would never forget. His younger self, no older than six or seven, sat beneath the leafy coverage of a tree in their backyard. Dirt and grass stains covered his clothes from head to toe, as they did Yuri reclining beside him. The warmth of the memory coursed through Erik, reminding him of how much he used to enjoy playing with his big brother in the yard. They'd chase one another, play catch and climb the modest-sized trees that were like giants to them in their childhood. He held a lot of happy memories from that patch of grass outside, so it hurt only worse to know that these photos were all that remained of it now. Erik's heart started to wrench, his face creasing with a despairing frown. In just a few short years, the happiness of this picture would begin to fade, and the bond he shared with Yuri would slowly but surely be pulled apart.

"Hey, Erik!"

He gasped in shock, jerking with enough force to send the stack of photos tumbling from his grasp. They scattered across the desk, bundling many of Yuri's little trinkets aside while burying the lock box that'd been stowed there.

"How are you?"

"Thijs?" Sucking in air, Erik threw his paw to his chest. He glanced down at the floor, staggered to find the tiny ferret gawking back at him from beside the bed. "What are you doing!?"

"Huh--?"

"How did you get in here?" He spun quickly to fully face him, paw slamming into the floorboards unwittingly heavily.

Thijs shirked back, a delicate whine cutting the air as he tumbled away from Erik's stomping step. "Door was open!"

"What?"

"I-I..." He dipped his little head, cowering and retreating until he'd practically hidden himself beneath the frame of Yuri's bed. "The door. It weren't closed all the way!" Thijs snatched a squealing, trembling breath, focusing his eyes anywhere but upwards. "I-I thought ya'd left it that way... like the others, remember? So we could walk 'round without help."

"Oh..." Erik softened his forceful frown, stepping back after finally realising what he'd done. "I'm--"

"Sorry, Erik," Thijs squeaked, his small ears folding back. "I... was just 'sploring, since it was the first time I saw it open." Finally, he peered up with scared, sorrowful eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"No... you're not."

He sniffled, rubbing at his little face. "Really?"

Erik lowered himself down to a kneel, leaning forward to slip his hands across the spotlessly clean woodwork and beneath the bed. "Not at all."

Thijs stalled for second or two, until the warmth of the smile and the words that answered him pulled him forwards. He grasped Erik's thumb tip, tugging lift himself up onto those waiting palm pads. "You... sounded real angry though."

"I know, but I'm not."

"But ya not angry?"

"Did I not say no?" Erik snickered, cupping his paws before bringing the inquisitive little ferret out from the gloom. "You see... This door should not have been open. My mother likes to keep things as they are. It's important to her."

Thijs peered around the room, visibly puzzled. "I didn't touch anything. I was jus' looking."

"I-I know... but--"

"Hey, who's that?" Erik followed Thijs' pointing down to the desktop, finding where the bulk of the old photos had landed. "Is that you? Who's the tiger?"

The typical barrage of questions turned him back to face the desk and the picture he'd last studied. "That's my brother, Yuri."

"Huh? So... but you're a snow leopard."

"Yuri... technically is my half-brother. We have the same father, but our mother... Well, my mother is his mother, but... not." He shook his head with a grumble, abandoning his poor attempt at an explanation.

"Oh, I geddit!" Thijs smiled excitedly, far from fazed as Erik feared he might be. "I gotta friend back home in Meerland. He's a ferret, too, but his dad's a raccoon. His tail's skinny like mine, but stripey an' bushy, too. It's cool!"

The jovial response couldn't stop Erik's brow from creasing, his gaze down at the photo hardening. "I didn't know he'd kept these. I had no idea at all..."

"So why's Yuri in prison? Did he do something bad?"

The continuing interrogation wouldn't allow Erik to get too lost in his thoughts. He opened his mouth to answer, though nothing but hesitation came.

"I mean he musta done, right?"

Erik backed away from the desk, floorboards groaning loudly. Thijs' blunt questioning, though innocent, left him feeling raw. He shouldn't have been in here. He should have just let things lie, left these things back in the past.

"Erik--?"

"Let's go back to my room, okay? It's almost time for dinner."

A heavy thump of wood on wood echoed around the landing, Erik's closing of Yuri's bedroom door ensuring there'd not be a repeat of these events. He padded back to his own room, slipping inside to a place he hoped he'd feel far less agitated.

Settling upon the edge of his bed, Erik leaned forward to lower his paws to the ground. "There."

"Thanks, Erik," Thijs called gently, hopping off from the tip of his fingers. "And sorry again... for being in there."

"It's okay." He beamed brightly at those little ears perking from his acceptance of the apology, though it wouldn't last for long.

"Thijs, where have you been?" Anika grumbled, glaring out from their 'home' in the corner of the room. A number of study books surrounded her, almost covering her makeshift bed at the back of the box. "You should be doing homework."

"Just 'sploring." Thijs wandered over to the Polcian-sized leopard statue that Erik had introduced him to. "Can study later." He batted idly at its arm, causing the joints and wiring to flex and move.

"I told you not to get in trouble."

"Oh, he isn't," Erik declared. "It was nothing."

Anika's eyes flashed up at him, the annoyance on her face intensifying into a scowl in the process. Her focus returned to her brother, though the anger she showed persisted. "-Wat heb ik gezegd!?-"

Thijs stopped his playing, slowly looking up at Erik without a word. His little muzzle dipped, and his ears started to fold all over again.

"Thijs!"

He snapped his gaze away, turning to trot quickly across the flooring and towards Anika sitting in their shelter.

Erik couldn't help but feel incredibly edgy, even here in his own room. He clasped his paws, rubbed his arms and scratched the back of his neck all within a matter of seconds. The awkwardness only intensified, anger, frustration and sadness culminating to start a heavy, unpleasant discomfort deep in his gut. How could someone that was a guest here be so callous, hateful even? After he'd offered her and her family safety and warmth no less!

Erik frowned, muzzle twisting with a desire to call out and ask Anika just what he'd said to her brother to raise the tension, ask her just why she seemed so hostile towards him. Did she really distrust him? Hate him even? Was her goal to spread those same feelings to little Thijs?

He managed to resist, knowing that nothing good could come from it. Perhaps the big, mean Velikan rising to meet her bait was just what she wanted?

"I will be back... when dinner is ready." He jumped up to his feet, brushing the creases from the work shirt he still hadn't found the time to change from. "Help you both downstairs if you wish."

Erik marched across the room, the grumbling floorboards almost perfect in their echoing of his mood.

"Bye, Erik," Thijs called from inside their little home.

He didn't look back, slinking out through the half-open doorway to escape the judgement he faced here in his own home.