Waterways (30 page)

Kory took a mouthful and found that it tasted mostly like greasy cheese. He got half the plate down before disgust overwhelmed hunger, even with frequent drinks from the beer Sal had bought him.

Sal, on his second beer already, had pointed out a female otter halfway across the bar and was now doing his best to appear completely disinterested in her. “Tell me when she looks at me,” he muttered to Kory.

At least that gave Kory something to concentrate on, though with all the natural musks and artificial scents in the bar, his eyes were starting to water already. The ceiling, though at least attractively dotted with wooden beams, was too low to allow for much ventilation. Even through his watering eyes, he had to admit that the girls here were way better looking than any of the ones in his high school. The one Sal was interested in had light streaks in her fur and two silver earrings in her right ear that glinted in the dim bar light. She and her friend, a grey squirrel, both wore low-cut dresses with shoulder straps that disappeared into their fur. Her light dress (yellow? cream? mint?) looked better on her than the squirrel’s dark one did, or else she just had a better body, tight and slinky. She looked like a dancer, shifting her feet back and forth as she talked to her friend at the bar.

Around the room, the mix of species was almost as even as the boy-girl ratio. He and Sal weren’t the only otter pair; two tall otters in Forester University hoodies chatted up a pair of female raccoons over by the dance floor, and a pair of female otters giggled together under a big neon sign for Huffenbrau Beer. Foxes, wolves, hares, weasels, and rats mingled, shared drinks and laughs, danced under the garish red and blue lights, and leaned against the bar. The bartender was the only bear in the room, a large brown bear who shambled from one side of the bar to the other and never seemed to ask anyone for their ID. None of the foxes were black, none as handsome as his fox. He wished Samaki were there, because he’d appreciate the silliness of this place.

“Hey!” Sal elbowed him in the ribs, hissing. “Is she looking?”

Kory snapped his attention back to the otter. Oddly enough, she was looking at them, at Sal in particular, while her friend, who had been looking at Kory, lowered her eyes to the bar as soon as he looked in their direction. “Yeah, she is.”

Sal nodded and lifted his head, tipping the bottle of beer casually to his muzzle. He licked some of the foam away, lowered it, and started tapping his paw on the bar. “Still looking?”

“Yeah.” The squirrel was still studiously ignoring him. Kory looked at his friend. “What are you doing?”

“Shh. Okay, get ready now.”

“For what?”

Sal’s tail tapped against Kory’s. “When I finish talking, laugh like I told you something funny. Go on, now.”

“Huh?” Sal was grinning at him in an odd, forced way, and Kory tried to find that funny enough to laugh at. He succeeded at least in opening his mouth and forcing out a “ha ha” kind of sound, and apparently that was enough.

“Cool. Now look at her and smile and nod.”

Kory blinked. “I thought you were interested in her.”

“I am. I mean, smile and nod like I just told you that and you’re saying, ‘yeah, she’s hot’.”

“Oh.” Kory didn’t quite know how to look at a woman like she was hot, but he gave her a smile and an approving nod. She met his eyes and smiled, and then turned to talk to her friend.

“What’s she doing?”

“They’re giggling. Can’t you hear that squeaking? That’s her friend. She’s a squirrel.”

Sal snorted, finishing his beer and signaling for another. “I thought that was someone’s barstool. You sure it’s her?”

The squirrel squeaked again, piercing the background chatter like a train whistle. “Positive.”

“Okay, just keep an eye on them and if she looks over here again, let me know.” The bear slid a mug over to him, and Sal took a drink. “This is way easier with two people. You gotta come again.”

“We’ll see.” Kory was still on his first beer, reluctant to drink any more for fear of how it might mix with the lump of grease in his stomach. “Oh, there. She just looked over at you again.”

Sal gulped down half his beer, gathered himself, then finished it. He plunked the mug down on the counter and slid off the barstool. “Let’s go.”

As they walked over, he muttered to Kory, “Talk to her friend.”

“It’s okay,” Kory said. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Not for you,” Sal said. “It’s so she doesn’t get bored and bug her friend to leave. Tell her she’s pretty, pretend you’re interested.”

“Okay.” Kory followed his friend, bewildered by the complexities of this game. At the same time, he could see why Sal enjoyed it so much. When they’d played the online RPGs, Sal had always been the one leading the hunt, figuring out the rules and going after the monsters. This was just a different kind of game, and although he found nearly every element of it distasteful, the gritty reality clearly appealed to Sal. As did, of course, the more tangible prize.

“Hi,” Sal said to the female otter. “This is kinda weird for me, I usually don’t just walk up to pretty girls, but… my name’s Sal.”

“I’m Divinity,” she said.

The squirrel was looking at Kory. He shook off his amusement at the name and edged around Divinity to get closer to her. “I’m Kory,” he said.

“Hazel,” the squirrel said. Her scent was a strange mix of liquor, artificial musk, and her own scent below it. Kory could also smell her friend, who’d chosen a much more flattering artificial musk that enhanced her natural scent rather than trying to conceal it. “Do you go to Forester?”

“No,” Kory said. He remembered just in time that he wasn’t supposed to say that they were in high school. He opened his mouth, but Sal came to his rescue.

“We’re at Lake City College,” he said. “Home for the weekend.”

“Oh, cool,” Divinity chirped. “I love Lake City. I go to LakeFront Mall all the time.”

“I’ve never been to Lake City,” Hazel said, and just like that, the conversations were separate again.

“It’s pretty nice.” Kory, who had only been to Lake City once, was anxious to get off the topic. “So you grew up around here?”

She had actually grown up in a small town fifty miles north, whose name Kory forgot the moment after she told him. Hilltown was a sprawling metropolis to her. They talked about the quaint Badger Square, because Kory knew it from his trips to the Rainbow Center, and Hazel went on about the cute little shops that she liked. She’d never been down Holly Street to the Center, of course, but Kory had been to enough shops on the Square to keep the conversation going.

At a break, he looked over for Sal and Divinity, but they’d gone. Hazel saw his look. “They’re dancing,” she said. “See?”

Beneath the flashing blue and red, two otters gyrated amidst the crowd. Kory had to stare to recognize his friend’s compact form and characteristic dance. When he turned back to Hazel, he saw red and blue gleams reflected in her dark eyes and felt the creeping dread that she was waiting for him to ask her to dance. “Uh,” he said, “you want another drink?”

She looked down shyly. “Sure.”

“I hurt my foot,” Kory said, feeling the need to explain himself.

“Oh! Sure. I’ll have another Cosmo.”

He put it on Sal’s tab, and ordered a Coke for himself. Hazel asked how he hurt his foot, and he’d made up a story about twisting his ankle before he realized she was fishing to find out whether he played sports. As the conversation dragged on, he marveled at how anyone could ever hook up in this kind of place, how Sal could know so many of the rules. It certainly looked like Sal and Divinity were getting along well; they were bumping together now, locking arms and tails with their paws all over each other. He missed Samaki.

Samaki! He was late for the call, but on Friday night it shouldn’t matter. Claiming he had to use the bathroom, he made his way to the back of the bar and flipped open his cell phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said when Samaki got on the line.

“Sounds noisy. Where are you?”

“Oh, Sal dragged me out to this bar. We’ll be here for a while. I guess until Sal hooks up or something.”

Samaki sounded worried. “Then what? You ride with him in the back seat to her place?”

“I don’t know. I never thought of that.”

“Call me if you need a ride, okay?”

Kory grinned. “Well, maybe her friend will give me a ride.”

“What friend?”

“Sal’s conquest came with a squirrel. Her name’s Hazel.”

“Hazel the squirrel. Is she cute? Should I be jealous?”

Kory leaned back into the corner between the phone cubicle and the wall. “Absolutely. We’re dancing and kissing and everything.”

“Slip her some tongue for me.” Samaki chuckled.

“I miss you,” Kory said.

“Miss you too. I’ll see you tomorrow though.”

“Bright and early. Starbucks?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll let you get back to your dream date now.”

It was amazing how talking to Samaki was so effortless, not like the strenuous uphill efforts of keeping Hazel engaged. Just hearing the fox’s voice and knowing he’d see him again soon relaxed him and made him smile.

Hazel was waiting for him, looking restless, and her Cosmo was empty. “Get you another?” he said, indicating the empty glass.

“Oh, no, I’d better not. Maybe just a Diet Coke.”

“Good idea. I’ll refill mine.” He signaled to the bartender.

“Oh, well, maybe one more,” she said, as he was ordering the drinks.

They carried their glasses over to a corner of the bar where the music was slightly less loud. Kory positioned himself so he could still see the dance floor, while Hazel groomed her cheek fur with quick, jerky motions. Kory had decided that he was going to ask her what college life was like, so he could at least get something worthwhile out of this evening for as long as Sal needed him to pretend to like her.

An hour later, the pretense was getting harder to maintain. Hazel’s college experience, to hear her tell it, consisted mostly of her wandering around the campus with her jaw open, gaping either at the size of the buildings or the size of the boys. By this time, it had become apparent even to her that Kory wasn’t interested in her, but she was clearly too timid to tell him to go away, so she kept looking around the bar at any unattached male who came within five feet of their little corner. Kory, for his part, was searching his brain for things to talk to her about, and found himself mentioning the football team.

“Well,” she said, “they kicked off two of our best players just because they got in a fight with some faggot. Sorry—homosexual.” She dangled her wrist as she said it, and then covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, I’m so bad when I’m drunk! I hope you’re not one of those PC cops. Take me away, officer!”

“No,” Kory said, “don’t worry about it.” He debated how much Sal would hurt him if he went and dragged his friend off the dance floor at that moment. He didn’t really believe Hazel was drunk, but he didn’t know how much she’d had before the two Cosmos. His fur had prickled with the way she’d said, ‘homosexual,’ a warm flush of shame creeping through him even though there was no way she could have known.

Another hour dragged by. Hazel switched to Diet Coke and took out her cell phone, checking messages and sending texts to friends. Kory lost sight of Sal on the dance floor and wondered if he’d gotten some action out behind the bar. He went to get a refill of his own Coke, stopping at the bathroom first, and when he came back, Hazel was gone.

Good riddance. He scanned the bar for her quickly before remembering that he didn’t really care where she was. Sal might, if she’d taken her friend with her, but after a moment of panicked searching, he spotted the two of them on the dance floor, so Hazel had clearly taken care of herself. He settled back against the wall and sipped his Coke, thinking of all the homework he could be doing or all the things he could be saying to Samaki, and growing steadily more annoyed at Sal.

Well past midnight, his friend appeared in front of him, swaying slightly even though his tail was waving quickly back and forth to balance him. “There you a-are,” he said.

“I’ve been here all night,” Kory said. “You ready to go?”

Sal nodded. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

He wasn’t slurring that much, but he stumbled on the way out and his tail smacked the door frame. Remembering an endless drone of safe driving commercials, Kory said, “Hey, maybe you shouldn’t drive.”

“What, you want to drive?”

Kory held up his paws. “I just think…”

“Look, I wanna get home and… dammit, it’s cold out here.” Sal got into the car and started the engine.

Kory opened the passenger side door, but didn’t get in. “Let me call a taxi.

“S-sure, with whose money?”

“I’ll pay for it.” Sal just looked at him and revved the engine. “I’m serious!”

“A-all right. Look. There’s a d-donut shop down the street. One block. We’ll get some coffee.”

The large “24 HOUR D NUTS” sign was more like two blocks away. “Let’s walk.”

“It’s cold out! I don’t wanna have to walk b-back for the car.”

“I’m going to walk.” Kory slammed his door and started walking.

Sal drove past him, staring straight ahead even when he was right alongside. When Kory got to the donut shop, fluffing up the fur on his paws to keep warm, he didn’t see Sal inside. It took him a moment to locate the car, parked in the shadows around the side of the small building. Sal was already sitting in his car, the windows fogged. “Enjoy your walk?” he said when Kory got in. The car was warm and thick with the smell of coffee from the one cup in Sal’s paw.

“You didn’t want to sit inside?”

Sal shrugged. “Car’s warm and I got my tunes in here.” He’d put on one of his favorites, something loud and blaring with lyrics that Mariatu could have written.

“So it didn’t work out with Divinity?”

“Damn cock tease,” Sal said. “She danced with me all night and then just took off. Got me all worked up, too.” He took a sip of the coffee and put it down in the cupholder.

“Hazel was so boring,” Kory said. “And when she wasn’t being boring, she was being offensive. I don’t think college girls are all they’re cracked up to be.” He looked at the steamy window, missing Samaki’s company. The phone call with the fox had been the highlight of his night.