Fictional Life

A TALE OF BROTHERS

— by Jeff Karamales

Chapter 13

“Elias and I both ha’ more adventures, o’ tha’ ye can be sure, but t’was tha’ firs’ mission, th’ rescuin’ o’ th’ miners tha’ made the two of us realize wha’ th’ SPF was ‘bout. We later came tae learn tha’ nearly all th’ cadets ha’ tha’ moment o’ questionin’ their decision o’ joinin’ up, of perhaps havin’ made a mistake. Cap’n Palmers knew o’ this, though, an’ it were her guidin’ paws tha’ brought the two o’ us ‘bout, knowin’ things tha’ we couldnae, or didnae, ourselves…”

Nadia looked at the human, wanting more of the story, to hear more of these adventures this human and his friend had shared. Instead the man ran a finger around the rim of his empty coffee mug, the light in his eyes indicating that he was lost in his own memories for the moment. Attempting to be polite and patient, Nadia waited, almost squirming on the seat as she fought not to ask the questions that burned in her.

“What about Vanna Perrins?” the canine finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity.“Or that girl from Earth? Annie?”

Alistair shook his head sadly. “Elias an’ Vanna eventually got posted t’gether again on th’ Scimitar. She didnae make it…killed in action ‘gainst th’ pirates what did th’ ship in an’ near killed Elias an’ th’ others.

“As fer Annie, well, she ne’er got o’er her firs’ love, e’en though t’was a fox wha’ caught her heart. Las’ I heard tell o’ it, she’s still kickin’ ‘bout with th’ scout service. I sent her a message ‘bout wha’ happened, but haven’ heard nothin’ from her.”

The Samoyed looked sad and sighed until Alistair reached out and lifted her head by the simple expedient of placing a finger under her chin and making her look up to meet his eyes.

“Don’ ye be getting’ all weepy ‘bout tha’, now. All o’ us, we done lived life to its fullest, an’ the time all of us were sharin’ wi’ each other was well worth it! Nae one o’ us had regrets ‘bout showin’ those tha’ were bein’ ‘round us tha’ we loved ‘em, an’ tha’ was all the difference, lass,” Alistair told the canine with a sad smile. “I miss my frien’ an’ his mate, but I know tha’ if there truly is bein’ a God, or Maker, or Creator, an’ I do believe mind ye, then all o’ us will be seein’ Elias an’ Cerise an’ Vanna an’ all t’others again.”

“So…it was all worth it?” Nadia asked softly.

“Aye. It surely was.”

The canine nodded slowly. “So, what about you? Did you ever find someone?

Alistair smiled, again pulling back as he recognized the interest in the Samoyed’s eyes. “Tha’ I did, an’ fought th’ feelin’s tha’ were boilin’ up in me e’ery step o’ th’ way! Funny thin’, though. Bein’ devoted tae just one lass that means everythin’ tae ye ain’ bad a’tall. I s’pose I jus’ needed tae finish growin’ up.” Alistair flicked his left ear that was adorned with three golden earrings. “Tha’s wha’ these be showin’.”

When a large wolf stepped up to the table, Alistair smiled and patted Nadia’s paw. “Now, m’ dear lassie, if’n ye’ll pardon me, it’s bein’ time fer me an some others tae be sayin’ our good-byes tae me fuzzy family members.”

Nadia nodded mutely as the human got up from the booth bench and embraced the wolf, both shedding silent tears. “How have you been?” the large lupine fur asked.

“I could ha’ been better withou’ th’ news ye sent me, Randy,” the man said with a slight cracking of his voice. “How’re poor Renee an’ Van holdin’ up?”

“It’s been…difficult. They’ll pull through, but it’s going to take time,” Randal Mercks informed the Scot. “Lena, Sabine and I have the arrangements all made though, and everyone’s waiting for us.”

“Then let’s be off,” Alistair said as he stood a little straighter and smoothed his jacket and adjusted the formal kilt he wore. “I’m also feelin’ a powerful need tae be havin’ me mate’s arms ‘bout me neck righ’ now.”

Randy only nodded, understanding the need himself all too well.

***

Alistair had only been to the Tambor cabin twice before and found that the setting was the most peaceful and serene place that he’d ever been and thought it fitting that Elias’ and Cerise’s ashes would be put to rest there. Randal piloted the lifter the pair used to make the run, the wolf finally having gotten his pilot’s rating, and Alistair saw the others gathered and waiting to greet him.

The human only paused for a moment to get a large, odd shaped case from the back of the ducted fan aircraft before turning to the small crowd. He smiled when a pair of white and black trimmed kits detached from the small gathering and bolted to him.

“Uncle Alistair!” both said as they wrapped their furry arms around the man.

“Och! Look at ye! Saints above the two o’ ye are growin’ like weeds!” Alistair exclaimed as he knelt and pulled the kits in close and held them tight, his eyes stinging and raw feeling. He could feel both trembling with the pain of loss and looked up to the pristine blue sky and casting a prayer to whatever divine agency was listening that the two young foxes would be watched over.

“We didn’t think you could come,” Van said as he all but tucked his head under the man’s jaw, his sister doing the same.

“Uncle Sandy said you were all the way out in the Anya system near Kantus,” Renee added.

“My sweet foxes,” Alistair murmured as his breath caught in his throat, “ye know tha’ nothin’ would be stoppin’ me from bein’ here tae say good-bye. Yer Da an’ Ma were bein’ like me own brother an’ sister, don’t ye know?”

Once the kits were placated, Alistair greeted the others. Rovi and Sharan were quiet in their grief, Lena and Sabine wept openly, as did Pala, Sonja and Odette. Olin and Baxter were both subdued, supporting their mates and being supported in return. Sander Brees looked old and tired, his mate Meri a vision of calm as she stood in her robes as a Priestess of the Unified Light, though there was pain in her yellow eyes at the reason for the gathering. Keena and Lemuel stood near the vixen’s parents, somber and silent.

Another of the small, elite group of Spatial Police Force pirate hunters stood off to the side and Alistair greeted Chuck Palance with a handshake that turned into an embrace before turning to the one whose arms he craved the most.

“Are ye holdin’ up alrigh’, Love?” Alistair asked quietly after a tender kiss.

Galina Carver nodded before resting her forehead against the human’s. “I suppose. It’s never easy to say good-bye to one of our own, is it?”

“It ne’er is, me sweet, golden wolf. It ne’er is. Jus’ remember, he an’ Cerise, God bless ‘em both, departed doin’ wha’ they knew t’was bein’ righ’. It’s bein’ up tae us tae carry on fer them, though.”

Galina nodded and steered her husband to the stone that waited near the rusted wreckage of an armored lifter that vines and flowers had claimed and were turning into a part of the landscape.

The words that Meri Brees said during the funeral ceremony seemed to only cover a portion of what Elias and Cerise were, of what they had done, extolling the virtues that the pair demonstrated to everyone they met. Alistair only partly listened to the eulogy, thinking back instead on younger days when he and Elias seemed so young, so brash and eager. And thinking back to days long gone, the man couldn’t help but smile, even as his eyes found his best friend’s children, each one looking so much like their mother and father that it was almost frightening.

When it was done and each of the attendees had honored their own personal beliefs and said good-bye in their own way, Alistair gathered his case and walked to the hilltop that looked down upon the cabin, the white memorial stone glowing in the setting sun of Dennier and lit the pile of logs that had been prepared by Randy. As the flames grew and climbed higher, the man opened the case and removed the bagpipes that had come from Alistair’s great grandfather.

As he filled the bag with his breath, Alistair thought of the fox that he’d met so long ago, how he and Elias had become friends and so much more. He remembered how Elias and eventually Cerise had touched so many lives, of the wayward fox from Alexandrius that would be adopted into the human’s family and Clan and felt the tears stream down his cheeks as he began the first of many tunes that seemed fitting tribute in ancient Highland custom and tradition.

Alistair wasn’t aware of the passage of time, and when he finally lowered the mouthpiece for his bagpipes from his lips, the man was astonished to see that the logs had burned down into a bed of coals. Nor was he aware of the eyes that reflected the fitful light of the glowing embers until images and events from the past cleared and his eyes filled with the here-and-now.

“That was beautiful,” Randy all but whispered as he stood with Lena and Sabine, the rabbit doe and squirrel each under one of the wolf’s arms.

“It was,” Keena said as she batted her eyes, the vixen taking comfort and smiling as her tiger held her tight.

The others also stood around, silent, moved by the man’s personal tribute to his friends, the haunting sound of the bagpipes still seeming to roll through the valley. There wasn’t a single dry eye among the group, though Alistair saw that it was the children of Elias and Cerise that seemed the most affected.

Van and Renee both stared at the man with mouths agape and their ears flattened. Alistair set the pipes down and found Galina’s paw in his hand, giving her fingers a squeeze in gratitude of her silent support as he sat down in the grass, unmindful of the stains his kilt might get. He chuckled and motioned to the kits to join him, helping the two young foxes get settled on his lap.

“So, would ye like tae hear the tellin’ of how yer father was becomin’ me brother?” Alistair asked with a grin despite the tears that glistened on his cheeks as he held the kits tight. “I’ll be warnin’ ye, though, it’s a wee bit of a long story…”