Читать книгу The Band - PJ Shay - Страница 5

Dreaming is a lot like traveling through an alternate dimension. You’re flying through a world composed of half-forgotten memories, unrealized thoughts and emotions, and desires of the heart and mind. Sometimes the journey is a fun one, one that you never want to leave. But other times, you find yourself trapped in a dungeon made up of fears, anger, and darkness.

Matakh was flying through a rainbow of color, chasing an object that he had never seen, but one he somehow knew was very important. Sometimes it would seem to fly almost out of reach, to the point where he feared losing it. And then, it was like he had put on a great burst of speed and surged forward to catch it, only to fall just short. Over and over again, until anyone should have been panting from exhaustion, the pattern repeated itself, seemingly unending in its continuity. And as time continued, the landscape he was traveling through grew steadily darker, until he was chasing the mysterious object through an obsidian world streaked in blood-red luminescence. The only other light provided was produced by the object, which now glowed a pure white.

Slowly, even the red faded away, until Matakh was traveling through pure blackness that seemed to close in around him. A cold feeling rushed through him, and he tried to go faster to catch up with the glowing object he was following. Gradually, he gained on it, until he could feel the light playing across his face, banishing the darkness.

Then as he gazed at the strange light, he realized he was beginning to see what it was. With every passing second, it grew clearer, until he could make out a humanoid figure in the midst of the glow, feathered wings spread out behind it and what appeared to be a tree branch in its hand. Its eyes flashed like stars, and he felt afraid and overjoyed at the same time.

Suddenly, a slight discordance started up in the back of Matakh’s mind. It was like a faint vibration in the distance, or a fly buzzing softly near his ear. At first it was only small, and barely an annoyance. But as time passed, it grew and grew, louder and louder, until it reached a magnificent crescendo that shattered the fabric of Matakh’s dream world into countless pieces. He fell from his wanderings, leaving the multicolored landscape behind, but not the piercing buzz…

6 months ago…

Matakh woke up and winced, clamping his hands over his large feline ears to protect them from the droning warble of his alarm clock. He looked over to check the time and realized that it was past eight in the morning, before reaching over with a moan to slap the power button for his alarm. The buzzing instantly cut off, but the noise echoed in his head for a few moments more.

He stretched his arms over his head and yawned, a real cat yawn that stretched his muzzle and showed his teeth, particularly the points of his canines, before reaching over to tap the light switch beside his bed. His ceiling lamp hummed to life, a soft glow spreading through his room and bathing it in a calming light. The walls of his room, painted a pallet of cerulean, sea green, and lazuli, seemed to gently flow like ocean water beneath the subtly undulating light, and his cheyunn wood floor caught the dancing reflections, turning the reddish wood into a flickering, blue-tinted plain.

He flexed his legs to shake out the stiffness, feeling his toes crack, before sighing and sitting upright, squinting as he looked at the sunlight streaming through a gap in his blinds. It looked to be a beautiful Saturday morning.

But his dream still swirled in his mind, leaving a storm of questions. ‘What was that…? Who was that? Why did I feel so strange when I saw him? It just doesn’t make any sense… unless maybe it was a dream from God.’ He shuddered as he remembered another part of his dream. ‘And that darkness… What was it?’ He shook his head. ‘I know it was just a dream, but somehow I feel that it’s… important.’

His sensitive feline nose suddenly picked up the fragrant odor of bacon and eggs, and his stomach rumbled hungrily. He sighed and swung his legs out of the bed, slipping his feet into his slippers. For a moment, he remained slumped on his bed, gathering the will to rise, before finally lifting his body from the mattress and standing upright.

‘Mom’s making breakfast, it’s a beautiful summer day… Life is good,’ he thought to himself. ‘Who cares about a dream? It’s just that, anyway – a dream. Odds are that I’ll have forgotten all about it by tonight.’ Still, he couldn’t shake off the strange feeling of foreboding that was hovering over his mind.

His stomach growled once more, and he shook his head to clear away the worrying thoughts before walking across his room. He ran a hand fondly through the gentle flow of water running down a floor-to-ceiling stone fountain panel. Giving another yawn as he left his room, he turned and made his way to the bathroom he shared with his sister. Inside, he turned on the cold water and let the white porcelain sink fill a ways before splashing it on his face, shocking the after-sleep daze from his mind. Feeling awakened and refreshed, he grabbed a hand-towel from the rack and dried his face.

After replacing the towel, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, only to begin chuckling at what he saw. His chestnut fur was ruffled and mussed in a few places, while his shock of brown hair was a complete mess, standing out at random angles in some places and dangling over his yellow-green eyes in others. He quickly grabbed a comb and ran it through his tangled mop, pulling out the knots and flattening the strands. When he had finished his hair was still a bit untidy, but at least he didn’t look like a poorly-shaven porcupine. He would make finer adjustments later.

Satisfied with his appearance, Matakh let the water out of the sink, watching it flow down the drain before returning to his room to change. A forest-green tee and neo-khaki shorts quickly replaced his woolen bathrobe, while his slippers were traded in for a pair of sandals. Now ready for the day ahead, he shut off his lights and slipped down the stairs, the thoughts of his dream slowly slipping away.

His sister was already awake, and was talking with their father, Kotaho, in between bites of bacon. Matakh inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his mother’s breakfast, before turning to his family. “Morning,” he said cheerfully, smiling at the two.

They returned his grin and nodded. “Morning, Mat,” Meea chirped, before picking up another piece of bacon. She smiled, her chartreuse eyes sparkling at him from beneath her blonde bangs. “Finally got out of bed, huh?”

“Hey, it’s Saturday,” he countered. “I can sleep in a little.”

“And how did you sleep?” Kotaho asked, peering over his newspaper at his son.

Matakh shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess.” He paused, memories of the night starting to rise up again. “I just had a weird dream.”

“A nightmare?”

Matakh shook his head. “I don’t get those a lot. It wasn’t frightening or sad. It was just strange.”

“Define strange,” Meea queried, her curiosity now piqued. She hadn’t seen her brother think so deeply on his dreams before.

“Well,” Matakh began, “it started out pretty normal, for a dream. I guess you could say I was flying, but there wasn’t any clear landscape around me. It was all just swirling colors, and I was chasing something through it. I didn’t know what it was, but somehow I just felt like it was really, really important. Like I couldn’t afford to lose it, even if it was something I had never seen.”

He removed a plate from the cupboard and walked over to the stove. A plate of bacon and a skillet full of scrambled eggs met his eyes, steam still rising from them. “So, I chased it. Sometimes it was like I could almost touch it, I was so close. Other times, I thought for sure I was going to lose it. It just went on and on, repeating itself.”

“Doesn’t sound too weird,” Meea remarked.

Matakh turned to her. “It didn’t stay like that, though. The colors all started to darken, like night was falling, until all I could see was black streaked with blood-red. And soon even the red had completely faded. The thing I was chasing started to glow, becoming the only light I could see. I felt… cold. Not just chilly, but scared too. I caught up to the light, and suddenly it changed shape until it looked something like a man, but with wings.” He shook his head. “And that’s when I woke up.”

Meea gazed at him thoughtfully. “Well, do you think it means something? Like something is going to happen?”

Matakh looked at her again, marveling at how alert she was. He had half-expected her to stop paying attention shortly after he started talking, but it looked like she had absorbed every word he had said. “I really don’t know, sis. I know it was just a dream, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Kotaho took a sip of his coffee and looked at his son. “Don’t worry about it, Matakh. It was just a dream, a fantasy. Everything is going to be just fine. Now come on and get some breakfast.”

Matakh nodded and finished scooping the hot eggs onto his plate, but as he was walking to the table he happened to look out the window. As he did so, his keen vision caught a flutter of movement beneath the hedges lining the yard. Intrigued, he pressed his nose against the glass, squinting at the shadows. His feline eyes amplified the light, making the shaded areas brighter, and it wasn’t hard to make out the bunch of golden fur and tattered clothing beneath the bushes. Looking harder, he could make out a head with a pointed muzzle and large ears, as well as a long, bushy tail. He realized that it was a young fox, fast asleep under the hedge.

Needless to say, he was surprised. Their planet, Filius, was a cat world, and the sight of any sort of canid was rare. But it didn’t look like this fox was having an easy life here. He wasn’t just small; he was also unusually thin, as if he was barely getting enough food to get by. “Hey Mom,” he called out. “Come over here for a second.”

Linalia walked over to stand beside him, brushing her hands on her laundry apron. “What is it?”

“Under the hedge.” He pointed through the window. “See? It’s a fox!”

His mother strained her eyes for a few moments, following his finger. It wasn’t until the fox twitched in his sleep that she finally noticed. Her eyes grew wide, and her face filled with pity. “You’re right! Aw, the poor thing. He looks half-starved.” She picked up two pieces of toast and a few slices of bacon and placed them on a paper plate, a napkin nestled beside them. “Why don’t you take this out to him? He looks like he could use a good, warm breakfast. And get a juice container for him, too.”

Matakh nodded and took the food from his mother, before opening the refrigerator and removing a clear synth-glass container of imported orange juice. “I’ll bet he’ll like this,” he said to his mother.

She nodded. “Just try not to wake him. It might frighten the little dear.”

Matakh gave her a thumbs-up and headed for the door, which opened soundlessly to let him through before closing again after him. The slight rush of air as the panels moved and the soft click of them shutting once more made him nervous at first, but it seemed that they weren’t enough to disturb the sleeping fox. Aside from a faint twitch of his ears, he didn’t stir. Quietly, using every ounce of stealth he possessed, Matakh crept across the lawn, treading lightly on the balls of his feet.

He fully intended to simply deposit the toast, bacon, and juice by the sleeping vulpine and creep back to the house without waking him. But he failed to notice a ring of dried twigs laid out a few feet from the fox. His foot came down directly on top of one of them, the snapping of brittle wood painfully loud to his ears.

In an instant the fox was wide awake, swinging his head frantically towards the sharp sound and his rust-red hair flying around wildly. At the sight of the lion kneeling just a few feet away, his sapphire-blue eyes widened in fear, and his long, rabbit-like ears pinned back against his head. Up close, Matakh was struck by just how young the other boy was. By his best guess, the fox couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old.

He smiled softly and slowly reached a hand outwards, a gentle “hi” resting on his lips. But the fox gave a sudden yelp of fear and dove into the hedges, vanishing so fast that seemed to leave a blur in his wake.

“Wait!” Matakh called out, leaping over the shrubs and landing flawlessly on the other side. He looked up to see the small fox running for a nearby alley, ears folded back and tail tucked against his legs. ‘He’s scared of me,’ Matakh realized. ‘I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything to hurt him, so why is he running?’

The fox made the turn into the side street, and Matakh sped up to catch him. Within moments, he had rounded the corner, but to his great surprise, the alley was empty. It was obvious that there was no way out of the narrow street, but somehow the fox was gone just the same. For a moment he pondered trying to search the cluttered street, but he thought better of it. ‘If he’s scared enough to hide, looking for him won’t help things,” he reasoned.

“Well,” he called out, “you win.” He knelt down to place the plate on the pavement, somewhat surprised to see that all of the contents were still present. “But all I wanted was to give you this.” Reaching into his pocket for the juice container, he set it next to the plate before getting to his feet once more. One final time, he peered into the darkness of the alley, hoping to make out the fox in the gloom, but it was useless. The tall buildings blotted out the sunlight, and without any other lights even his feline eyes had trouble piercing the shadows.

“All right, then. I’ll be going now. Hope you enjoy it.” And with that, he left the alley and headed back towards his house. He just hoped that the little fox had heard him.

A few minutes of silence passed, the noises of the city drowned out by the thick stone walls until only ghostly echoes remained. The stillness was suddenly broken by a faint rustling as a small figure slipped out from behind a stack of crates. Two large ears straightened and swiveled about, alert for any sounds that might hint at an approaching individual. When none presented themselves, the little fox crept slowly forward towards the offerings Matakh had left behind. As he drew closer, the fox’s sensitive nose began twitching, inhaling the scent of soft bread and warm, crispy bacon. The delicious aroma made his stomach grumble, and the temptation to rush forward and grab the food rose strong inside of him. Instead, he swallowed and took another few steps forward, checking around him constantly.

Finally, he came up to the paper plate that the strange lion had left, the smell now so strong that it made him faint with hunger. He reached out for a piece of the bread, but paused and checked his hands. Seeing a layer of dirt, he wiped his palms on the cleanest part of his pants, cleaning them as best he could. He then gently lifted a slice of toast to his nose and sniffed, wary of anything unpleasant. When he could find nothing, he next tested the bacon, which also came up clean.

Unable to contain himself any longer, the fox took up the toast once more and took a small bite, chewing slowly and letting the taste of the warm bread and salty butter wash over his tongue. After a few moments, he swallowed, sighing happily as he felt the warm food hit his stomach, and his tail started to wag. At that point, all of his worries fell away, and he began to eat as fast as he could. Mouthful after mouthful was wolfed down, and he took frequent gulps from the orange juice to wash it all down.

It wasn’t long before he had eaten every last bite, even licking the crumbs from the plate in his eagerness. After so long, he had almost forgotten what real food tasted like, and how wonderful a full stomach could feel. He felt a rapid twitching coming from his rump, and he laughed when he looked back to see his tail flagging wildly. He hadn’t felt so happy in a long time.

However, he remembered how exposed he was, and he readied himself to slip away again. But a thought suddenly leapt into his mind and made him pause. Why had that lion helped him? He had been stranded on this world for so long, and in all that time he had never once been shown any kindness. But now he had been shown an inexplicable act of goodwill from a total stranger. He didn’t know why the lion had chosen to help him, but he was grateful nonetheless.

‘One good turn deserves another,’ he thought. ‘Maybe I can find a way to pay him back.’ And with that thought in his mind, he began walking towards the lion’s house.

Foxes are naturally stealthy, but the little fennec’s years of living in the shadows and sneaking around alleys had perfected his skills to the point where he could move in complete silence. Even so, those years had also instilled a deep-seated caution and a strong aversion to open areas. As he made his way across the well-trimmed lawn, the fear of being seen set him to shaking, and it grew stronger with every step he took. He glanced furtively towards the hedge line, even though he knew that it was too far to be a reliable escape. The thought only made his fear stronger, but his determination spurred him on, and at last he was standing up against the sleek, curved walls of the house.

Cautiously, he pressed his ear to the wall and closed his eyes, focusing on the conversations going on inside. Through the insulation and metal, the voices were hushed, but he could make out a boy and girl talking together from within. Recognizing one of them as the lion from the alley, he strained to make out what they were saying

“Hey Matakh, do you have this one yet?” the girl asked.

“The A. K. Lauvri Special Edition?” came the reply. It was the voice of the lion that had left him the food. “Yep. I got it a few weeks ago in the mail. Had to special-order it.”

“You must have every coin they’ve ever come out with. All those cases,” the girl remarked, and the fox realized that his benefactor was likely a coin collector.

“Well, I did miss my chance to get one special coin. Real bummer.”

“Really? Which one?”

The fox’s free ear perked up, and he pressed his other a little closer.

“This one; the Centennial Anniversary of Peace Commemorative. Pure silver, hand-engraved, top quality. They only made four hundred of them, and I didn’t get my order placed in time.”

“It’s pretty. The dove, the rose, the olive branch… It’s a real shame you didn’t get it.”

“Yeah. Now I just hope someone decides to sell theirs on UniNet, and that it doesn’t go for too high. If not, it’s just a coin.”

The fox pulled away, the wheels in his brain turning on overdrive. Something about the description of the coin had struck him has familiar. He scampered back to the hedge and rooted around for a little in the branches, finally pulling out a cloth pouch. He darted into the alley, where he opened the pouch and deposited its contents on the paving stones. Various odds and ends sparkled in the light; old watches, bits of shiny glass, a few children’s toys, and even a faux-diamond necklace.

He rooted around for a few moments before locating the object he was looking for. It was a gleaming silver coin, about an inch in diameter. He lifted it to the light, gazing at the detailed engravings set in the surface. Then he nodded decisively and returned the other things, except for a piece of charcoal and a roll of tape, before closing the pouch and tucking it back into his pocket.

Picking up the still-clean paper plate from earlier, the little fennec scratched at it for a few moments with the charcoal stub, nodding in satisfaction when he had finished. Then he tore off a piece of tape and used it to secure the coin in place. Finally, he carried the plate out to the alley front and laid it down, before scampering back into the shadows to wait…

Matakh had finished breakfast and was washing off his plate, hoping to ease the burden of dishes on his mother. Just as he was finishing up, he happened to glance out the window at the spot where he had left the fox his breakfast. It was gone, along with the juice. All that had been left was the plate, sitting on the paving stones.

“Mom, it looks like that little fox enjoyed our gift. Everything’s gone but the plate.”

His mother looked out of the window and smiled. “That’s good. I’m sure he needed it. The poor thing looked like he hadn’t eaten in days.”

“Well, I’m going to go get the plate. There’s no sense in leaving trash lying around,” Matakh told her. “I’ll be right back.”

Meea jumped up. “Can I come with you?”

Matakh nodded and smiled at his younger sibling. “Sure thing. Let’s go.”

Together they headed out the door, ignoring the loud whoosh as the panels swung open. They had no need for caution any longer.

“You know, that was really nice of you,” Meea remarked, “leaving food out for that fox. I doubt there are many people here who would have done that. Most probably would have just sent him off.”

“Or chased him off,” Matakh responded. “I don’t think there’s much love lost over the Rival War. I know some of my friends aren’t big fans of canines or vulpines. Kind of stupid, really; after all, we started that mess.”

“Some people just love to hate,” Meea replied sadly. “I’ve always thought that Cunia sounded like a wonderful place. I’d like to go there someday.”

“Maybe you will,” Matakh said. “Who knows?”

They were getting close to the paper plate, within a dozen yards, when Matakh saw a sudden gleam on its surface, as though reflected from a pane of glass or a piece of metal. “Mee, do you see that?”

Meea looked to where Matakh was pointing, her eyes quickly picking up on the glimmer. “Yep, sure do. But that’s a paper plate, not glass. There’s nothing that should be shining.”

Matakh nodded. “I know.”

As they got closer, the shining point sharpened and came into focus until they could clearly make out what it was. “A coin!” Matakh cried. “It’s a coin!” He sprinted the last couple yards to the spot and crouched down to examine it. The coin was held in place by a piece of clear tape wrapped around the plate. And as he looked at it in greater detail, he noticed that the markings were strikingly familiar.

“It’s the Centennial Anniversary of Peace Commemorative! I can’t believe it!”

Meea came up beside her brother and peered at the sparkling silver piece. “Hey, you’re right! Well, can you take the tape off?”

Matakh nodded and flipped the plate over to remove the tape, only to find another surprise. There was a message printed in bold letters, which Matakh read aloud. “‘For a special cat and a new friend. Thank you. I hope it’s the right coin. J.’ How about that?”

Meea smiled at him. “It’s proof that doing the right thing often leads to great rewards. In this case, a special coin and a special friend.”

Matakh nodded at her, and then looked back at the message. “‘Thank you,’” he read once more, before turning to the darkness of the alleyway. “You’re welcome!” he called out, though he knew the little fox had probably left already.

But he was wrong. All during the conversation, a pair of large ears had been listening to every word. They twitched at the lion’s final call, taking in the words. And as Matakh and Meea returned to their house, a small form crept through the darkness of the alley. And if one had been able to see, they would have noticed a long, bushy tail wagging happily all the way.