Chapter 4 - Earthly Drama Begins

the beginning of the subplot

 

The young Fox saw the train fast approaching while her paw was stuck in the tracks. She tried to bolt, but could not. The train was almost there - making that ungodly wail, eeerrrr! Eerrrr!…

 

            Beep! Beep! Valerie of the Foxes heard the alarm and struggled to open her eyes, relieved that the source of the noise was the alarm clock and not that horrendous train. She could barely make out that the time was 6:50, and class started at 7:10. That meant she didn’t have much time.

            She somehow pushed herself out of the bed and went downstairs to get breakfast. On the way to the fridge she spotted her pet squirrel, Dodo, who was chewing on the research paper due that morning. “Dodo! Put that down now!” she yelled.

            Dodo chuckled and ran out the door.

            “You stupid squirrel! Come back here!” She followed him out the door and onto the street. He led her all the way to the courthouse, before which the President was giving an oration.

            “We will make sure those dastardly Humans never make it into our territory again...” said Misha to the several hundred animals surrounding him.

            Valerie’s ears pricked up at the sound of the nasal, yet melodious voice. Looking up, she beheld the finest Fox she’d ever laid eyes on. She could no longer see anything save for Misha’s face. His voice sounded like a symphony to her pointy ears.

            “Wow,” she said, starting to salivate.

            She listened to the rest of his delivery in a trance. She noticed his striking eyes - auburn, like hers - and how they looked almost gold as the sun shined on them. She couldn’t help but notice his Cheshire cat grin as he posed for the many photojournalists.

            As his presentation drew to a close, Misha looked out over his audience, failing to notice the brunette ball of fur he had mesmerized. He waved goodbye and stepped down from the stage and into the crowd.

            Valerie tried to make a beeline to his side but was obstructed by the many animals blocking her path. After some time, the crowd dispersed, revealing a tired Misha sitting at a bus stop. There he is! This is my chance! she thought, running directly to him before stopping abruptly. Wait! What should I say? What can I say?

            Before she could come up with an answer, the bus arrived, and Misha boarded. Valerie instinctively ran on after him, aware of no one else.

            “Miss, I need to see your pass,” said the driver.

            Valerie stopped dead in her tracks. “Pass?”

            “Yes, you either have to show me your pass or pay fare,” he said.

            She searched her pockets, but came up with nothing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know...”

            “What, you’ve never been on a bus before?” the driver said.

            “I’ll take care of this,” said a distinctive voice from behind. Both Valerie and the driver turned around to see a very tall Fox with an outstretched paw, holding just enough to cover the fare.

            Valerie’s jaw dropped when she saw that the President, of all people, was paying her fare. “Th-th-thank you,” she stuttered.

            “My pleasure,” he said, and took a seat in the back.

            It was a very crowded bus, and the only open seat was next to Misha. Dang, I don’t have the guts to sit next to him,” she thought, but there was no place else to sit. She took a deep breath, and, shaking, made her way over to Misha.

            “Is something wrong?” he asked.

            “N-n-no.” She heard her heart pounding, sounding louder that the horrid train in her dreams.

            “You look uncomfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Misha.

            Valerie tried to respond, but no sound came from her mouth.

            “I’m sorry, how rude of me to not introduce myself. I’m Misha,” he said and extended a delicate paw. “And you are?”

            “Valerie,” she answered, starting to calm down. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. President.”

            “You can just call me Misha,” he said.

            “You have an unusual name, Misha,” Valerie said, a little dully. “Is it your given name?”

            “No, it’s a nickname for ‘Mikheil‘,” he answered. “I like ‘Misha’ better than ‘Mikheil, it’s not so serious.”

            “Oh, I see,” replied Valerie, having conquered her nerves. “My name is Latin. It means, ‘Strong, brave‘”.

            “My name is Russian and it’s a variation on an angel’s name,” said Misha.

            “You mean, ‘Michael‘?

            “Correct.”

            Valerie felt her tail brush against something warm and soft. She looked and saw it was lying on top of Misha’s tail. She yanked her tail away. “I’m sorry…”

            “S’ok,” Misha replied. “Not the first time someone’s tail accidentally touched mine.”

            She noticed that there was something unusual about his tail. Foxes usually have white tips on their tails, but the tip of Misha’s tail was black.

             Dang, was that embarrassing… thought Valerie. “Where do you get off?” she asked him, trying to shift focus.

            “Pretty soon,” he said. “This is my neighborhood.“

            Soon they arrived in front of a three story stone house that looked like it had come straight out of a fairy tale, with its turrets and elaborate windows. “Well, this is my stop,” said Misha. “It was nice meeting you.” He gathered his bags and got off the bus.

            Valerie watched as Misha walked up to the door, where he was greeted by another Fox wearing a beautiful dress and holding a baby. Misha and his wife exchanged a brief kiss before going inside.

            “Dang it!” cried Valerie inadvertently. “He’s already taken!”

            At that the rest of the bus turned around and looked at Valerie with strange looks on their faces. “Ooops,” she whispered. “I think I’ll get off here too.”

            By that time Misha had already gone inside. Valerie crept up to the window and peeked into Misha’s living room, where she saw a diploma hanging on the wall from 1984. He got his degree the year I was born? That makes him too old for me! Double dang! she thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of Misha’s guard squirrels run up to the window and bark at her. Time to scram.

            She walked back to the bus stop and began to sniffle. Here was the Fox of her dreams and he was married and too old for her.

            For weeks after, she couldn’t think about anyone but him. “Why am I wasting my time obsessing over him when there are more suitable matches in my own backyard?” she asked herself, but could come up with no answer.

 

Author's Note

does this make sense?