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Adults don’t give children enough credit.
Lynn decided not to hear it the first time. She blinded her eyes to the way Nick’s grasp curled defensively around her paw, and his smile, lazy and casual in the bright light, hardened in offense. They walked passed the elderly sheep and her grandchildren, judgment scrawled on their faces, and she looked back at them with a curious stare, then at him whose expression was now cemented in whatever emotion that seemed to strike him.
Back at the car he buckled her in, kissed her forehead, told her she was wonderful, and his mismatched humming rose above the radio. When the car started he glanced at her in the rearview mirror and their secret language told her that she wasn’t meant to forget but the time wasn’t right, not yet, and he wasn’t ready to disclose to her the vital information she would use in her day to day life.
Lynn watched in silent reverence the second time it happened, and claimed ignorance too. Judy craved physical touch, and this included holding paws during walks on their way home. What were they talking about? School, a school talent show, and she was going to be the boom box cub; assigned to providing music for the performances. She didn't trust memory, but the second the word entered the air with surprising speed the world darkened despite the sunny skies and clear clouds.Their warmth filled talk, eased with forgetfulness, turned cold, and Lynn was deaf to Judy's neck snapping turn.
“How dare you!” In a blink it went from 0 to 100, and the rabbit cop, soft and fluffy and filled with righteous rage, snatched at the porcupine and verbally wailed into him. How dare he...there was nothing wrong with their family....nothing wrong with her daughter, but her anger was restrained. Her anger was controlled, and the only sign of it was the manic tapping of her foot as she spoke sharply. Her painful politeness made him shiver, and everyone around them trembled at her ferocity.
Lynn was confused, and looked at her such.
“Has anyone said anything to you?”
The question bit into her tongue then. She wanted understanding, but the way Judy's brow folded, "No, I don't think," she knew it wasn't the time.
“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and can’t be,” she stopped and put her paws on Lynn’s shoulders, and she realized she couldn’t look away, she felt the porcupine’s fear when tearing through her eyes, “and know you’re loved. You are loved, and no one can take that from you.”
“I understand,” but she didn’t get it. It annoyed her, frustrated her, and their willingness to leave her in the dark when the light kept shining through left her both tired and irritated.
She couldn’t fault parents wanting to protect their children from the world’s injustices, and she wouldn’t fault them for trying to do the right thing.
“What happened?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilde...your daughter assaulted two students today.”
Judy paced. When she was anxious, truly anxious-deep rooted pitifully anxious, she paced, and she didn’t let herself look at her husband and child. Her thoughts worked on the facts dangling around them on wire hangers, and she desperately worked to regain control of her unlocked emotions before they started to spill over. There was nothing good in letting them spill over, and she wasn’t willing to see the aftermath of that.
Nonetheless, the living room wouldn’t be kept in silence. That was a cliche the two of them wouldn’t allow. Not this time.
Nick sat beside Lynn quietly, and he watched the scene unfold with a heavy sigh. He glanced down, and his sad eyes made her wince, “Alright, my tough little kit, tell us what happened.”
This was the start. His skills lied in peeling the truth out like an onion, layer by layer, and there was no way of telling when the eyes would start to burn, spilling tears over the rim as confessions rang clear in the air.
He eased the atmosphere, and his slowness gave wiggle room, “What went down at school today?”
Lynn looked at Nick with his fresh smile and easy eyes. Judy’s pacing slowed, but her grip on her arms didn’t. Her ears were alert, and although she was in movement she heard the softest of details. They wanted the truth, and she was going to give them the truth. But she was afraid of what they’d say, of what they’d think. She didn’t want to hurt them. That was the last thing she wanted to do.
“You’re good parents.”
“What?” Nick pulled back, confused, then leaned in, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “We’re glad to hear it, but honey, that’s not what we asked.”
“You are good parents,” she stressed. Her paws curled, and she shook her head, trying to find the right words, “It isn’t fair. It isn’t right, and I know you’re trying to protect me but you can’t. Not all the time.”
Wasn’t it the worst thing for them to hear? Admittance of something they couldn’t control; admittances of their inability, their weakness in this field. Their expressions turned to each other for solace, then at her for clarity.
“Lynn, you’re not making any sense,” Judy crossed her arms, but her expression had lost some of its ferocity.
“You’re not making any sense!” Throwing her hands in the air, she hopped off the sofa and swung at them, “You want me to know, but you don’t want me to know. I hear it all the time, but you don’t want to explain so I don’t ask. So when I hear at school, everyone tells me---I don’t know, I get it there, and I got mad.”
“That’s no excuse for your-,”
“What’s a predo!?” Her back hunched, and she bore her anger into them. What they represented to the world confused her. She sensed sorrow and frustration, and couldn’t identify it for what it was. If it was possible, the walls would have wept her anger for her. Instead, she stood before them with wet eyes and curled fists and an overtly interested mind at work.
Her accusations made them recoil, and they blinked helplessly. Why were they helpless? Lynn knew they weren’t helpless. Answers lied in them, they withheld their answers, and she wanted to understand why even though the answer was nestled uncomfortably inside her.
“Where did you hear that?” Judy asked, “You’re, you’re too young.”
“No, I’m not. I hear it everywhere.” Lynn sniffed, and she started to sniff and wipe seeing their torn expressions. This wasn’t what she planned. She hadn’t planned at all, “I...I know it’s bad, or I think it is. Kids at school say it, and adults say it on the street. And-and I know it’s about you, and us, but I don’t...I don’t.”
Arms swept her off the floor, and she was pushed against a Hawaiian designed shirt. It was a faded green, not her favorite of his, and he smelled of wildflowers for some reason. Without alarm, she was returned to the sofa, and she was placed between them, two pairs of eyes staring at her with heartbreaking concern.
“We are so sorry...”
“We...we wanted to protect you.”
“You’re right, kid, it isn’t fair.”
“You’re good parents,” she sniffed, and leaned into Judy’s chest, “and you’re great people. You-you don’t deserve that.”
“Is that why you snapped at those kids, huh?” His claws raked the back of her head gently, and she whined in response, embarrassed with her moment of weakness, “Is that what they call us?”
“Just Judy...,” she wouldn’t mention the other things they said, the unnecessary bits about biological means and relations. That could be endured.
Judy raised her up, and cupped her paws around her face. Her anger at them, at the world, started to melt away, and her tears flowed freely, “My sweet girl, look at you, it isn’t your fault. We never ever wanted you to fight this battle alone.”
“I know.”
“And you can tell us-ask us anything, especially things you don’t understand,” Nick’s muzzle fell softly on her head, “now...about this predo thing, jeezus, it isn’t easy to say, but to start off...capital A bad word.”
“I know that too.”
“It’s a derogatory word,” Judy clarified, and she looked at him warningly. Her intentions were clear, “remember what derogatory means?” Lynn nodded carefully, and she attached the word with the list of long winded words she had partial understandings of.
“It’s a nasty way of saying things,” she sucked in her lower lip, “a very mean way of explaining a way of life, right?”
Their chuckles were true laughter, and they snuggled her deeply, “Yes, something like that, and...it’s used to describe how I feel for Nick. How I don’t care about him being a fox, a predator, but they’re twisting it into something dirty.”
“Is there a term for him?” She searched his eyes for an answer, “For how you feel for Judy.”
“Yes, yes there is.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
He hooked his paw around his neck and sighed, “It’s called preyo. Have you heard that word, preyophile?”
Slowly, she nodded, and wondered what other words she heard and didn’t understand. The list was too long, “Yeah, not as much! It doesn’t come up often.”
“Their hate is trying to warp what we have for each other, as a family, into something hateful,” Judy explained evenly, with the dimmest traces of fear in her voice.
Lynn looked from him to her, “But we’re not-,”
“No.”
“And we’re not going to let them.”
They grinned, “Absolutely not.”
Back into Judy’s embrace, she sighed, “Am I still grounded?”
“Hmm...you did nearly break his nose, honey.”
“Oh come on, Carrots, they had it coming.”
“All I’m saying is that there are better ways to get your point across, but since this situation is new to all of us, I’ll give you some leeway.”
Her lips found Lynn’s forehead, and the contact made her shiver. The embrace tightened, and she was engulfed in something more than love, something like adoration. They didn’t make any promises of what would come, but she somehow felt the promises were made in her presence anyway.
Lynn tackled this matter of her life as she did with most troublesome things that threatened her existence. Enlightenment didn’t ease school life anymore than it eased the societal standards outside the school grounds, but she was reassured she wouldn’t have to tackle them alone. That much she was sure of.
The weight was heavy, and it made her shoulders ache on most days. Their reassurance clung to her, pressed down on her shoulders, and shockingly, made the weight a little bit more bearable than it should have.