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Dull gray clouds loomed over the airport terminal in Fuzzytown. Raindrops poured down the windows, catching the reflection of weary travelers. Harold slouches a bit in his chair, shifting his gaze to his worn-out beige-teal luggage. His paw brushes over the loose threads, tugging and tugging before letting go.
Sitting up, the hum of fluorescent lighting buzzes past his ears. Harold’s eyes glossed over businessman after businessman, flight attendant after flight attendant, trudging down the airport. Notes of caramel hit his tastebuds when sipping his coffee he got from the grab-and-go shop. His ears perk up at the whiffs of peppermint.
“Huh, who knew caramel and peppermint tasted good together?” Harold muttered, digging at each pocket of his vest before taking out his flight ticket from where he had put his notepad. His fingers rub over the silver embroidered Swiss flag. His phone buzzes in his loose teal pants pocket. Fumbling for his phone out of his pocket, he scrolls through his text messages and spots a missed video call from Maude.
Crap. He thought, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Should’ve called her back.
Sluggish, he gets up from his seat and goes to the charging station. He slumps over the table slightly, resting his head on his paw. He plugs in the charger wire he
Muffled footsteps shuffle throughout the airport as it melds with the announcements on the intercom. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of the harsh cerulean blue flight information display system.
TIME: 16:30 | DESTINATION: ZURICH | FLIGHT: UA-7009 | Gate C-9 | STATUS: CANCELLED
Harold’s eyes glaze over the other destinations, from the big cities of New York to the delayed flight statuses of Paris and Munich. He looks at the window, observing airplanes coming in and out of the runway. He stares off into the distance before staring at his phone notifications again. The unread text messages from Maude taunt him. His thumb hovers over the missed call notification and takes a few deep breaths, the same soothing breaths he learned from Carl, before tapping the notification bubble.
Back at Carl’s house, Carl’s mom is preparing dinner. Her tablet is propped up against the ledge of the countertop. The tablet buzzed against the wall. Bzzzt-Bzzzt. Maude looks at the screen, seeing an incoming call from Harold. She stops stirring the pot to accept the video call. Harold’s face appears on the screen slightly blurry.
“Harold! You had a safe flight?” Maude said, leaning forward.
“About that…it got cance–,” Harold’s voice cuts out for a split second. “Canceled.” He tries to point his camera towards the outside of the airport terminal. Thunder cracks in the sky while gusts of wind bang against the laminated-tempered window.
Maude squints at her screen while stirring the pot slowly. “Oh, bummer. Are you gonna stay at a hotel?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I’ll…decide in a bit.” Harold points the camera at himself, and the frame rate quality improves. “What are you up to now?”
“Cooking dinner. Carl and I agreed on spaghetti and meatball night!” Maude said, closing the pot and setting the wooden spoon aside.
“Did you set your relationship status to ‘single?’” Harold teased.
Maude chuckled. “Yes, you don’t have to ask me that. Why? Are you dating anyone?”
“Nah. Too busy for that when I’m traveling around the world.” Harold crosses his arms stiffly, clenching his jaw slightly. “Even looking for a part-time gig is hard when your only qualifications are photography, art, and a design degree.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You earned it.” Maude said.
“I know, I know. Just wished I didn’t spend so much on first-class seating and champagne. Don’t tell Carl that.”
“I won’t. But I bet the champagne was nice; isn’t that a plus to first class?”
“I guess…My photos got selected to be part of this art show, and I got invited to the showcase. It just sucks.”
Harold stared at his watch. Tick…tick…tick… His eyes darted back and forth between the window and his phone. He lies back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling as the harsh fluorescent lighting beams down on his eyes.
“You know, you did mention Carl a bit more when you texted me,” Maude said.
Harold sits up and looks at Maude on his screen. “Yeah,” He sighs. “I kind of wanted to take Carl along to the city a while ago, but plans changed.”
“Plans do change.” Maude turns off the stove, her voice dropping to a steady tone. “You ever wondered what would’ve happened if we never separated?”
Harold’s ears drooped. He looks away from the screen, shrugging “…Not really. I know you don’t want me to spoil Carl a lot with the souvenirs, sweets, all that jazz.” He slumps back on the sofa once more. “I felt that I was the one spending on everything.
“At least we came to a reasonable compromise, hm?”
“Yeah. Yeah…reasonable. How’s Carl? Is he doing alright?”
“Carl? Oh, he’s doing great. He’s been hanging out with Sheldon.” Maude shows what’s behind her: a jar full of marbles of varying colors and patterns.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Harold said.
Maude steps a bit further from the tablet, taking a sip of tea from her cup.
Harold twists his ring on his finger with one paw. “Now that I think of it, what if I come over to spend time with Carl?”
Maude sputters out her tea, “Huh? Like—Now?”
“Not now-now. I mean like, ehhh,” His voice trails off. “…in a few hours?”
Maude sets her cup down with a firm thud. She wipes her mouth with the back of her paw. “Few as in?
“Three hours tops. I can hitch a taxi back home. I swear I’ll tip this time!”
“Okay, okay. You can spend time with him,” Maude says, checking the calendar. “It is Friday, so…lucky day for you. It’s supposed to rain the rest of the week. I’ll keep Carl in the loop, yeah?”
“Yep! Yep…” Harold chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “…I—I know it’s not the most ideal situation, but I really need a place to stay that’s not some hotel that doesn’t charge me for mini bar prices. Plus, I don’t have my car; it’s in my garage.” He scrapes his fingernails lightly on the sofa. He stares absentmindedly at his ring, its weight bearing down on his finger. “I should get going. See ya in a bit. Night, honey.”
Harold ends the call, leaving the kitchen in silence yet again. Maude turns on the stove to medium-low heat. She sprinkles some salt, pepper, and mozzarella cheese in the pot, gently stirring and folding all of the ingredients together.
* * *
Upstairs in Carl’s room, minutes ticked by on the clock. Carl stares at the ceiling, his arms and legs curled up in the weighted blanket. It anchors him to the touch as his eyes fixate on the glow-in-the-dark stickers.
Closing his eyes, he takes a nice deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest in tandem with the blanket. He daydreams for a bit before getting up from his bed. Carl goes to the pile of books near the shelf where he put his bottle cap collection. He sits on the carpet and reads a book called ‘Superhero Raccoon Vol. 1’. He thumbs through each page, taking in every word and detail. A few minutes pass.
Time melted away while his tail swayed steadily as it thumped on the floor lightly. He stops at a page where it’s an illustration of the protagonist spending time with his parents in the kitchen. His paw brushes over the page, a pit forming in his stomach. A knock is heard at his door. Carl loosens his grip on the book. His mom comes into his room.
“Hey, Carl!” Maude said, stepping on one of the paperbacks. “What’s with all these books?”
Carl doesn’t look up, his shoulders dropping steadily while his tail sways side-to-side. “It’s my book collection, mama.” He sets the book aside neatly with his fuzzy raccoon bookmark and gets up from the floor to show his mom his book collection. “Dad and I went to the library and bookstore last week, remember? I sorted everything into fiction, nonfiction, comic books, and miscellaneous stuff,”
He chuckles, flapping his paws. “I’ve been reading volume one of ‘Superhero Raccoon’ since yesterday. I’m halfway through!” He shows the bookmark placed halfway between the pages.
“Right, I remember,” Maude says, looking at the bookmark. “You really love your bookmark, don’t you?”
“Indeed. This is volume one, edition three. The publisher said that the last two editions had to be scrapped due to printing errors.” Carl points to the various zines he got on his desk, precisely stacked on top of each other. “When I returned my books, Ms. Huffman asked about what kind of book I should start reading next. I wasn’t sure. She gave me an inventory test or something.”
Maude sits on the bed, nodding along. “Hmm. Like a reading grade level test?”
“Yes! It took longer than expected since I thought it would last five minutes like it said in the instructions on the screen, but it took TEN minutes. But! The test said I was at a fifth-grade reading level.” Carl’s tail wags, showing his raccoon watch on his wrist. “At the bookstore, I set a timer for twenty minutes since my dad had to drop me off at home before he had to leave for his business trip.”
Maude sits next to Carl, watching him sort the other books in his collection. “Your dad and I had talked over the phone as of late. Well, it was mostly me calling him after he didn’t respond to my texts. Though…” Her voice trailed off. “Your dad video-chatted with me while I was making dinner.”
Carl stopped stacking the books, staring forward. “Wait, really? How? Why?”
“He just called me out of the blue,” Maude laughed. “I had to prop my tablet on the countertop stand so it wouldn’t fall! He mentioned that he’s coming home to spend time with us the rest of the day.”
Carl’s tail stops wagging, his paw knocking over the stack of books he is organizing. He looks at his watch, rubbing his wrist.
“What? He’s coming home? Now? He never told me.”
Carl shakes his paws, evading eye contact with his mom, looking down at his feet. He grunts, getting up to jump on his trampoline. “He should’ve let me know if he’s going to Europe or returning home.” He stops jumping, standing there stiffly while his fists are clenched.
Maude gives some time for Carl to catch his breath. She thinks for a moment. Carl sits on the trampoline, kicking his legs back and forth before plopping back on his back.
She looks over at Carl, walks over, and sits with him. “I know that unexpected things make you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about it?”
Carl puts his legs up against his chest, setting his chin on his knees. “It…makes me feel nervous?” He shrugs, tapping his fingers. “I feel my body freezing up, and my tail won’t budge. Why does my tail not move whenever I am nervous? Why?”
“It’s normal to feel nervous about change. Change can be a little scary, but it’s a part of life.” Maude said, brushing a paw over Carl’s shoulder.
Carl looks down at his watch, snapping his eyes at the clock ticking by. “…Can I go draw something on printer paper, mama?” He rubbed his paws together. “I need to collect my thoughts.”
Maude nods and lets Carl get a piece of printer paper and some crayons. Carl returns to his book collection pile and sets it aside. A few minutes passed. Carl made a checklist, alongside a drawing of himself and his parents.
“Aww, you drew the three of us?” Maude said.
Carl doesn’t respond and keeps coloring the paper. He taps the crayon on his chin. “I’m making a list of the books I’m reading. I’ve already read three comic books. I just wish I talked to dad more over the phone about what I’m doing more often.” He sets the crayon down.
Maude sighs. “I know, Carl. But sometimes things don’t always go as intended. Dad is busy with traveling, photography, those things take time.”
Carl nods slowly. “I guess so.” He rubs his paws, darting his eyes around the room. “I know that dad comes over on the weekends, and I stay over with you in my house. Dad taught me the word ‘divorce’. He said it means that it’s where a valid marriage is terminated.
“Ah, so that’s why you drew all three of us?”
“No.” Carl gets up from the floor abruptly, pacing in circles while clenching his fists. “I don’t get it.”
He stops pacing to steady himself, holding on to one of the shelves with his paws. “I was reading my book, and I felt a little weird seeing the picture. I gripped the book too hard, which is why the spine is dented.” Sharply exhaling, he releases his grip and picks up the superhero raccoon book and flips to the page of an illustration where it shows the protagonist with him and his parents in the same house.
Maude looks at the page in question. “Oh, Carl. Even if dad and I are separated, we still love you. That wouldn’t change one bit.”
Carl puts the book back on the stack. He wiggles his fingers for a moment before taking some belly breaths. Maude comes over to check on him.
Carl places a hand on his chest, the thump of his heartbeat in a soothing rhythm. “Thanks. I feel a bit better now.”
“Anytime. Why don’t we clean up your room before dad comes home?” Maude said, observing Carl nodding as he cleaned up the floor. “Don’t forget, we’re having spaghetti and meatballs tonight, made ‘em extra cheesy!” She goes to the door, shutting it gently.
* * *
The sharp, charred smoke of used cigarettes mixes with the cool winds coming from the open taxi windows. Harold slouches back in his seat, twiddling with his thumbs. A slow rock song plays on the radio, buzzing and ringing in his ears.
“You had a rough day?” the taxi driver said.
Harold rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. My flight got canceled.”
“Ah, that’s too bad. Good thing you requested a ride from me.”
Harold dryly chuckles, looking out the window while his fur blows in the breeze.
The taxi driver squinted at his phone hanging from the holder. “The storm subsided, thank goodness. Are you planning on doing anything with your family?”
“Maybe take Carl to the mall?” Harold shrugs. “They just changed their closing time to be at eleven P.M.”
“Okay, okay. Guess you’re one of those guys who likes the nightlife?”
“Ugh, no. I’m not looking for someone right now. I’m not sure if I even want to date again.”
Harold closes his eyes. The taxi driver looks at his windshield and notices Harold.
“Hey, you asleep?” the taxi driver said.
“No. Just…thinking.” Harold said.
“Thinking about what?”
Harold looks at his phone, scrolling through text messages from Maude, only giving simple responses or a thumbs up. He then scrolls through old photos of him and Maude, including family photos of them and Carl together. It seemed so long ago, yet recent in reality.
Harold puts his phone away in his pocket. “Nothing.” He rubs his face, letting out a huff. “Why did I decide to come home right this second? Should’ve staggered it by another day, like on Sunday instead of a Friday.”
The taxi driver stops at a red light. He flicks down his turn signal. “…Brains can be weird like that, man. You’ve made the choice, and you can only control the reaction to whatever situation you’re in.”
Harold scoffs. “How can I control my own emotions when I’m this tired?” The red light turns green. The taxi cab moves forward with the traffic.
The taxi driver takes a left turn. “Well, how are you feeling right now?”
“Umm. I feel tired and irritated.” Harold takes a deep breath or two. “I don’t want to take it out on my ex-wife and son when I’m this tired.”
“Then you have your answer. It’s sleep. Do you feel jet-lagged?”
“Yeah, I do. I traveled from Dublin to Paris a few days ago, and then returned to Fuzzytown.”
“Sheesh, no wonder you’re cranky.”
Harold yawns again and closes his eyes, falling asleep.
* * *
An hour or so later, Harold arrives at the house. Harold hauls his luggage with whatever energy he has in him left. Carl’s parents greet each other. Carl peeks from the stairs as he observes his parents talking to each other on the sofa.
“Dad! You’re home!” Carl said, coming downstairs to sit next to his dad.
Harold hugs Carl with open arms. “Hey, Carl. Got you something from the airport.” He gives a bag of salted caramel chocolate pretzels. He watches Carl open up the bag and eat it, savoring every last bite.
“This is so good. Oh! And caramel-y. Is that even a word?”
“Perhaps it’s a word. My flight to Zurich got canceled, and I wanted to spend some time with you.”
Carl shows off the list and the drawing to his dad. “Look, dad. I drew you, mom, and me.”
“Whoa, you’ve really captured my essence!” Harold chuckled.
“I captured your essence–What?” Carl said, furrowing his eyebrows.
“It means that you’ve got my spirit, mood, and everything else in it. You’re a good drawer, aren’t you?” Harold said.
Maude smiles at the two of them. “Look at you two, all bonding and stuff!” She gets up from the sofa. “I’m gonna prepare dinner; it’s spaghetti and meatball night! Come in, uh, five minutes.” She pats Harold’s shoulder before going to the kitchen.
“Well, uh, Lotta’s more of the artist out of my friends. Thanks, dad.” Carl points to the checklist below the drawing. “This is my reading list. I really want to buy some more graphic novels and comic books.”
Harold takes a look at the list. “Hmm. Seems like you’re into science fiction, huh? What if I can take you to the mall tonight?”
“The mall? Ehh, I–No. I don’t like how noisy it is.”
Carl rocks back and forth, his tail swaying a bit slower.
“Gotcha, okay. Hmm…oh! There’s this new and used bookstore a couple of blocks away. It’s not that far away from home.” Harold said, patting Carl’s back lightly.
Carl’s tail stiffens. “A bookstore? Is it the same one we’ve been going to? What does it look like? What time is it open and closed?”
Harold hands over his phone to show off information and pictures of the bookstore. “Here, maybe this would help you out.”
“...Whoa. This place is huge.” Carl said, giving the phone back to his dad.
“I know, right? Come on, I’ll take you with me after dinner.”
* * *
A rainy shower pours in the late hours of the evening. Stars cover the sky while the moon beams down over Fuzzytown. The bustle of footsteps cuts past Carl’s ears. Carl walks around with the store map while staying close to his dad. Going down the aisles, they stop at the kids' graphic novel section.
Harold points at one of the books. “This one looks cool! It has astronauts, or you can get the second volume of ‘Superhero Raccoon’. Which one do you want?” He puts the book back on the shelf stand.
The words swirled in Carl’s head. The scent of dusty, mildewy pages reeked from the paperback books as he scanned the area. The lights buzzed throughout the store, piercing his ears slightly.
Books, magazines, movies, cassettes, vinyl records. Carl thought, covering one of his ears. He gripped the map a bit tighter. “Uh-huh, yeah…” He looks away from his dad, rocking back and forth, gradually tapping his fingers rapidly.
Harold looks down at him. “Carl, are you okay?” He takes Carl to a nearby rolling stool and away to a quiet area of the kids' section, gently taking away the map from his paws.
Carl shakily nods. “Yeah. Yeah–I’m okay.” He places a hand on his chest, trying to take some deep breaths. “Too many choices. Books. Mom. Dad. Too. Much. Red light, red light.”
Harold recognizes the code word. Red light. He sits with Carl, giving him a stress ball in the shape of a raccoon, just like both of them. Carl squeezes the stress ball.
“I’m right here. You are safe.” Harold said in a calm voice.
Minutes later, Carl’s breathing slowed to a steady pace, his fists unclenched with his shoulders loose. Harold’s smile softens, allowing space for Carl to process everything. He gives Carl a bottle of water he has bought from the airport in his bag. Carl takes a sip, glancing over at his dad reading a magazine he got from the table.
A couple more minutes passed. Carl stares down at his watch. “I’m sorry, dad. I didn’t mean to ruin our time together.”
Harold looks up from his magazine, setting it aside and getting up to come over to him. “Hey, you did nothing wrong, buddy. I’m going to get the ‘Superhero Raccoon’ comic book for you, alright? You can sit at those chairs near the entrance while I pay for it, okay?” Harold takes Carl to the chairs near the entrance before buying the second volume of ‘Superhero Raccoon’.
Back at home, Harold is outside the front door.
Maude is at the doorstep, hugging him. “Stay safe, honey.” She releases her grip.
“I will. Is Carl tucked into bed?”
“Yes, he’s doing alright. He insisted on using his weighted blanket, so I let him be.”
“Does he have his night light on? And—And his shelves have all of his collections? I don’t want him to have another bottle cap scare again.”
Maude laughs. “Yes, he does.”
Both of them lean forward for a quick kiss on the lips before waving goodbye to each other. Harold gets into his car and pulls out of the driveway, driving away from the house. Maude goes back to the house, shutting and locking the front door. Crickets chirp in the distance as the howling cool winds breeze in the neighborhood.