Chimerical_Knave
Reasons

I was about to make my daily morning coffee when a high-pitched whine grasped my full attention. I set my mug of coffee to the side.
"What is it this time?"
Ignoring the groans of protest from my body, I pushed the door open and searched my lawn expectantly. There was nobody on my porch or lawn. The sound came from across the street, where another neighbor was mowing his lawn.
I let my paw slump to my side and slowly shut the door. "The fuck is the matter with me?"
The next day I had a strange urge to check my mail box...five in the morning. The sun was still rising, the grass was glistening, and the air was chilly as fuck. I slowly trudged across my lawn, taking my time and staring down both ends of the street before staring down the empty cylinder of my mailbox. Of course, the mailman had not come this early. Nothing to be found except for disappointment.
I waited two more days before deciding that it was time to finally replace those areas with rotten wood. I've always had an abundant supply of pine in my garage all stacked up. I carried them all out and set them next to my porch. I stood and waited a moment, scanning the street and then the side. I was prepared to begin when I realized that I didn't have any of the tools required to cut the pine and sand it. I cussed to myself for my stupidity as I dragged the wood back into my garage.
It was finally Saturday. Time had inched by a snail's pace this week and I was depressed for some reason or another. I woke up and poured myself the usual morning, black coffee when I noticed that my stock of canned food had gotten smaller. I opened my refrigerator and surveyed the inside: A carton of milk half full, a couple vitamin shakes, some apples and bananas, and a twelve pack of White Moon beer. My concern over my supply of food was nothing serious but I made a mental note to visit the supermarket soon.
I was eating out of my heated can of sausages when a couple knocks resounded from the hallway. I put my fork down and frowned. I decided at first to go against answering the door. But the knocking persisted and with each knock I grew more and more hopeful. No one could be this stubborn.
I wiped my muzzle clean with a towel before I opened the door.
It was a male sheep outfitted in a blue suit. Next to him, there was a lion who was also wearing a similar blue suit but he was carrying a black suitcase.
"What do you people want?" I grumbled, completely disappointed.
The sheep spoke up first. "Greetings. We are from the Works of God church and we have come to bring you the good news of our lord."
The lion pulled out a folder from his suitcase and continued after the sheep finished speaking in his monotonous volume. "In this pamphlet you will learn about our wonderful God who gave us life and how to please him in order to reach salvation."
I leaned against my door and allowed myself a cheery smile. "Why thank you. I think I'll get straight to reading this and learning all about this God that I've never heard about before."
The lion frowned at me and shut his suitcase. "We hope so too. If you don't work for the lord then you will never reach salvation."
The sheep bid me a good day and then they both left.
I crumpled the pamphlet in my paw and watched them walk away before I shut my door.
"Damn idiots."
I was about to finish my canned sausages but they had gotten cold in my wake. I didn't feel like heating it up so I threw it away along with the balled up papers.
I thought to myself, "What a waste. That was my last can too...I think."
I rummaged through my pantry but I couldn't find any more canned sausages among my cans of beef and chicken broth.
"Damn. I really liked those sausages."
I looked to my countertop where two ripped halves of a note had been placed.
"I should go to the supermarket today. Why not? I need more milk and sausages anyways. I might find something else too...who knows."
I jumped into my faded white truck and started the ignition. To my surprise, the truck answered on the first try. I wasn't sure if this was a sign or if this was coincidence.
I drove around my neighborhood twice, checking the sidewalks and corners. I'm not sure why though. Maybe I was going through some mid-life crisis and I had to ride it off. After the second run, I decided to head to the market.
I dreaded the supermarket. They had trained employees who absolutely had to ask any old, fragile person if they needed assistance. I may have been old but I sure as hell wasn't fragile.
As soon as I walked in I gave the greeter a glare, even though he knew to avoid me by any means possible. But it wasn't just the greeter who knew me. Around these parts, all the employees knew me. I had made sure of that over the course of the past few years. Everyone knew to avoid me or suffer a wild cussing fury. Shit, if I needed help I would seek it out.
I was going about my business in the canned food section when something caught my eye. When I realized who it was, I felt like smiling.
It wasn't the nameless blue vixen but the next best thing: that little husky boy who had showed up with her that one day.
I strode over to him. He didn't notice me because he was too busy reading the canned labels.
"Hey you. Where's your blue friend?"
He stood up and bolted. I barely had time to drop my basket and take off after him. Christ! He was fast.
Lucky for me I had two advantages: One, I knew the supermarket like my home. Two, I used to be the fastest thing in my class.
I went down aisle 8 and took a sharp right. I immediately spotted him rush across aisle 9 to aisle 10. I skipped both and went straight for aisle 11 when he slipped past me from aisle 10. He had tricked me!
Unbeknownst to him, he had just entered the magazines area...on a Saturday.
I didn't have to know where he was exactly, I just needed to get to the exit before he did. I went outside and stood by the door.
A few seconds later, the husky boy, out of breath, jogged outside...where I pulled him by his collar towards me.
"Let me go! Damn it!"
"Hey, that's no way to speak to an adult."
He sneered at me and tried to bite my hand.
I shook him silly. "Will you cut that shit out?"
He obeyed and I was able to set him down. I didn't let go though.
"All I want to know is who was she?"
"Who was who?"
"Don't play smart with me boy. I want to know about your blue friend."
"She's not my friend! Now let me go!"
"What do you mean by that?" I let go of his collar.
He straightened his shirt out and dusted his sleeves.
"I mean exactly what I mean. She's not my friend. I just know her because I see her walk by my house a lot. She came by my house and asked if she could borrow my dad's mower. I went with her to make sure she wasn't going to steal it."
"So we both know her but she only spoke to you? She didn't even say thank you to me once. I think that saying thank you is much easier than asking for a lawn mower."
"Don't ask me. Go ask her."
"After I ripped her note in two? She definitely won't talk to me."
"You're a stupid, mean guy, you know that?"
I was about to shake him harder this time, but he evaded my hands and sped off.
While he was running, he shouted, "It's not that she doesn't want to talk to you!"
I thought to myself, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
I was about to walk inside when I noticed parents and people alike staring at me. It wasn't everyday that you say an old guy chasing after a young boy.
"It's alright people! I'm not a Catholic priest!" I laughed at my own joke but apparently no one else got it.
"The fuck you looking at?" I stormed back in through the exit.
I was stopped by Phil, the weasel manager. You could say that we were pals but I'd prefer not to associate myself with the likes of him.
The weasel smiled, revealing his stained teeth. "Hey buddy! It's been a while hasn't it? What? A year?"
"It's been the same fucking length as any other time. A month."
"Right, right." He nodded his head so vigorously that I wanted to rip it right off.
He put his arm around my shoulder and i could pick up the scent of nachos along with a waft of beans.
The only reason he talked with me was because no one else in the store wanted to talk with him. And I never really did talk with him, unless cussing is considered a conversation. Though today I actually felt like saying a few words. Only a few words.
I stayed silent and hoped that Phil would do the same. He ignored the hint. "So uh...ya. What're doing this week?"
"You forgot my name again? Shit, you're fucking hopeless."
"I remember it! It's Walten."
I shook my head. "Sure. Let's fucking go with that."
Something caught his attention and he left my side for a moment.
Phil the weasel was notorious for giving bad reports on anyone he thought he saw slacking; which was nearly everyone save for himself. If you were taking a break then he would call you lazy. If you spit your gum at the trash and missed he would scold you for littering, regardless of whether you were going to pick it up or not. If you weren't notified of a six o clock meeting or forgot about it he would believe you to be stupid.
And he wondered why no one ever spoke to him.
I hurried back to where I left my basket - I needed to get away from him and I didn't want some employee deciding to put everything back. I arrived just in time too.
A bear was stooping down to pick my basket up when I snatched it from his paw. He was about to say something when he noticed who had grabbed the basket. He smiled, nodded, and wandered off elsewhere.
I carried my shit all the way back to my car and glared at all who dared to give me a look. Somehow everyone in the fucking world knew that I had just chased a kid through the market. I slammed my door shut and turned the ignition.
Today was not my day. My truck was acting up. I gave it a good while to relax before I turned the ignition again. It didn't budge. The key was stuck in the ignition.
"Fuck it!"
I slammed the dashboard and tried to turn it the opposite direction but it wouldn't turn either way. I bite my lower lip and pushed it in while turning. It finally gave way. The engine emitted a continuous cough. I had to restart the ignition a few more times before the truck rumbled to life. My face flushed, I sped off.
At my house, there was a note lodged in my door frame. I quickly unfolded it and scanned its contents.
It read: Her school is Kilmore High School. My address is 111 Guppy Ch. Dr.
I guessed that it was from that husky boy.
She looked old enough to be in college, yet she was still in high school? Kilmore High wasn't that far from my neighborhood. At least, by car it wasn't a long distance. If you were to walk from there to my house then it would probably take a good half hour. But Guppy Ch. Dr. was a street in a subdivision next door. Not too far off.
I threw the grocery on my table and headed out. Thankfully my truck roared to life on the first try.
He was waiting for me on the driveway, drawing chalk figures. I casually strode up to him and examined the cartoony figures. All the drawings were in blue and I couldn't quite make out what he was drawing but one of the figures had what looked like a tail.
After a minute or so of waiting I finally said, "So why are you helping me out?"
"Because." He continued to draw.
"Because what?"
"Because I want her to stop bothering me." A pause. "And she seems to like you." He stopped drawing.
"So, why won't she talk to me? You said that it wasn't because she didn't want to. What is that supposed to mean? That something or someone is holding her back?"
"Not someone. Something."
"What? A speech disability? She a mute?" I chuckled. The boy, on the other hand, stood up and glared at me.
"You think that's funny that she has blue fur and can't talk?" His fists were balled up.
My smile froze and I shamefully looked away. I muttered under my breath, "So that's why. Shit."
I looked back at the husky. "Listen here boy. I'm not poking fun at anyone, okay?"
"You like her? Don't you?"
I had to scoff. " That's random but you got it all wrong boy. I'm way too old for her."
He frowned. "Age doesn't matter. And I have a name: Paul."
"Okay then...Paul. And why wouldn't age matter?"
He stared at the blue chalk in his paw. "Because."
"Because you like her?"
His eyes flashed for a moment but before he could do anything a voice called him inside.
Before he went inside he gave me a heads up on how to apologize to the blue vixen. "Her favorite ice cream is mint!"
Mint? I had never tried mint. The only ice cream flavor I've had was the original: vanilla. Maybe mint tasted better than vanilla? I never was one for trying new things. Not that I was afraid of something new but because I preferred something old over new. I wasn't afraid of anything new, especially not some girl. I just didn't care much...that was all.
I think.