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A Fair Start
part 1
by Feech
I don't remember Angelo's phone number. The
time I had an appointment to be groomed, the
student I was travelling with made the call, and
all I remember is Pennsylvania and... MacLeod
University. Yes, the same one Ginger has gone to,
and will go back to next year. There's even a
brochure left in my room somewhere...
With shaking hands I pluck the booklet from
among a pile of random papers and find the
toll-free number.
"MacLeod University Main Desk, may I help
you?"
"Yes... Please... Could you please give me a
phone number for the city's information directory?
I need to find Eagan Grooming, and I'm calling
from Massachusetts, and don't know where to
find--"
"All right, that's fine, I'll look it up if
you can wait just a moment, Miss."
"Thank you." I know my whispery, nervous
voice must sound upset, and I know the
receptionist is wondering what is going on, but at
least she's going to help me. I need to talk to
Angelo.
"Here's the number, and it should apply to
any business within the city, at least--"
"Oh, thank you. Thanks." I get the number
and immediately hang up to redial. Find Eagan
Grooming, get that temporarily in my head and dial
again.
One ring. Two.
"Eagan Grooming, this is Angelo, how may I
help you?"
"Angelo. Are you busy?"
"_Anne_? You sound terrible, Sweetie."
He remembers me. I knew he would. He knows
everything-- he'll fix everything. I only wish I
could go and see him in person. But the phone
will have to do.
"Groomers are always busy, Hon," he says
cheerfully. "And thank Goodness for that. Tell
me what you need."
"I won't bother you-- please don't let me
interrupt your work. But I need to talk. Could
we, sometime, please?"
"Anne, of course. Listen, I have a customer
here now, and a house call after that, but as soon
as I get home I'll call you back, okay? Is there
anything you need to say right now? Anything I
can do for you?"
"I'll wait. Thank you so much, Angelo."
"No problem at all. I just need your number
so I can call you back. Will you be there this
afternoon?"
"I'll wait until you call me."
"All right. I'll be thinking of you. And you
can say anything you need to say when we talk
later."
"Okay." My voice is a little
better-controlled already, just having someone
calming like him to talk to. I know I should be
talking to someone else, but I can't. I don't
know what to do. I recite my dorm room phone
number to Angelo, and click the receiver back into
place.
Out the window is a sunny, beach-combing
style day... I know Ginger will be looking for me
where I go walking. I didn't answer the door when
the girls came looking for me here earlier, and
now it is locked. I haven't remembered to lock my
room door in a long time.
I sigh a long, shuddery sigh and peer out the
window, regretting the lost outing. I sit down on
the bed and wait. There are too many people, and
I am too emotional; I have to bring it down to
one. Angelo has told me who I am, has listened to
me. I know he will again.
Ginger will be wondering about me. Already I
miss her. But it is not safe, and this ache is
not the same one I had before. I used to ache
from confusion-- now it is fear. Do I ignore the
danger? Can I? I did not know humans could hurt
the way they did. I knew it intellectually, I
saw it, I read it in books. But I have never
cowered in my room before, having felt it myself.
Danger... But if I stay in here, if I never
connect again, I will just as surely be in
danger... I will die. The ache of wanting
overlays the ache of fear and I curl up as small
as I can on the bedcovers and debate with myself.
What would she want? Does she even realize how--
yes, she does, she was there. We were both hurt.
Physically. But she comes as boldly to see me as
before. Is she crazy? Or just _decided_?
Knowing Ginger, I opt for decided. But I,
Anne, am still shy. I almost feel ashamed of my
shyness-- more ashamed of the shyness than of
anything this baffling society has told me is
wrong or, in the next moment, right. I have no
business being shy of Ginger, the one person I
miss when she is gone. Not when she has taken
just the opposite approach. It's selfish of me.
But self-preserving.
I just don't know.
Angelo, I hope you can help. I really do.
I would never have had cause to think about
it, if I had not met Ginger, and she had not met
me. I understand that it is pointless to think on
what pasts might have been, but the idea that none
of this would have happened is at the same time a
comforting and a horribly frightening thought.
You can learn a lot about people in general by
learning one thing about yourself... I had, before
Ginger came to Egypt, Massachusetts for a year of
supplemental study, been used to observing human--
now my-- culture from a slight distance. Now that
is no longer an option.
I had understood, in a way, the terms
"friend", "lover", and so on, but only in a way.
I liked those who were friendly to me. Some men,
women and girls spent more quality time with me
than did others. I was acquainted with a lot of
different people. And then I was introduced to
Ginger.
There was nothing to prepare me for a person
who cared not for the study of the Thylacine coat
and habitat, who liked cocoa and eggs and could
"just not understand" my preference for coffee and
Chinese food, who volunteered to take me off
campus and get me off my usual escorts' hands
"just because."
I know she wasn't ready for me, either, but
she was not as _confused_. She was human all her
life before SCABS changed her into a horse, and
she had a lot of ideas settled in her mind before
she ever met me. But I know we were both
surprised.
We are the only SCABS students at the
University of Egypt, as far as I am aware, and the
girls who usually take me into their charge when I
need guidance or an escort thought we might be
interested in meeting each other.
Now, I had smelled attraction on humans
before, and often it swept into my nostrils as one
person responded to another within range of my
senses. Once or twice, a man approached me. I
did not respond, and after it was made clear that
I was a marsupial wolf, not a human, and had
become human due to SCABS, the overtures stopped
altogether.
I had never smelled anything quite like
_this_. I had never seen anyone like Ginger,
either. I was still fathoming that she was struck
by my appearance, as well, and that my own self
was scented with hints of attraction so immediate
and unexpected that I did not know in mind, before
in body, what was going on, when she escaped her
similar trance and shook my paw-hand with her own,
nearly hooved, black one. Beyond the black hoof
was chestnut hair, and following it in mind up and
under the sleeve of her white poet's blouse to the
neck, I could see how solidly the color flowed, to
the rich sorrel of Ginger's well-muscled yet light
neck and the matching, rougher hairs of her mane.
"I'm called Ginger, since my change," she
said boldly. Her voice floated on a slight drawl
like those of characters in movies about Southern
Plantations.
"Hannah Merle. Anne." I held the
semi-hoofed hand for a polite moment and let it
go.
"Anne, it is quite a pleasure to meet you."
I could imagine. She was more than telling
the truth, she smelled completely of openness and
a brightness as bright as that color, and an
overlying scent was as sharp as the white strip
down the center of her face.
"Ginger," I said, and giggled a little, not
feeling at all shy, "I get it. From _Black
Beauty_."
"And just as troublesome, too," She grinned,
delighted that I had known. She grinned, showing
large teeth, and I smiled back, unconcerned about
my own teeth showing. Ginger was so
straightforward, right from that moment, that I
felt I would know what was right and wrong while I
was with her. She hides nothing.
"I thought she was just sensitive and
misunderstood," I remarked.
"You seem a sensitive soul, yourself. So,
what are you here at Egypt for?"
We talked, and Ginger showed me her room and
gave me her phone number and I gave her mine, and
I felt no fear. Ginger felt no fear, that is why.
She has no fear except of losing me. And here I
am, afraid for myself. I am not worthy of her,
even if she has faults-- they would never keep her
from a friend.
After that first meeting, Brina and Mattie,
my usual companions, left me utterly to Ginger,
and I would not have really been satisfied any
other way-- I had picked a favorite. It was the
first time anything like that had happened to me.
I had no idea that I was the first person to
ever get a reaction like that from Ginger, as
well... I assumed that she had many friends, and
for the reasons I myself was attracted to her.
But she admitted to me within a week that no one
had seemed as honest to her as I had seemed.
"You have a good soul, Anne. I wish I did.
But I have denounced God."
She said it effortlessly, with a little flip
of her head that suggested it was the only
possible thing to do, and although I was a little
startled I sensed only a twinge of sadness and
rebellion in her-- typical-- and I decided in her
overwhelming friendliness to ask her to tell me
more.
"Why? Hon, if you'd been raised Baptist like
I was, and seen as much hypocrisy and as many lies
as I have, you'd denounce God, too. That ain't no
way for a loving Someone to let folks treat each
other. And that's all I have to say about that."
I pressed on, a little further. "I go to a
Catholic church in Boston, when I visit there, and
a few times I went to services here with Mattie.
The church in Boston is really nice. I don't
believe all religions can be like the one you were
raised in."
"I'll have nothing to do with it."
"Well, then, what about God? Isn't He
supposed to be a person? That's not His choice,
then, what people do, is it?"
"I suppose not. But I still maintain he's a
nasty old thing, letting people get away with that
kind of thing. I admire that you can be such a
nice person and religious at the same time.
But... it'd take a lot to convince me."
"I won't argue. I don't even know yet if I
am Catholic. But I'm pretty sure there's a God.
I remember it from an awareness, before."
Ginger nodded, her golden-brown eyes suddenly
distant and her sweet scent ambiguous. Then,
"Anne?"
I nodded.
"Oh, those eyes. Sometimes when you look at
me I think I could fall in, and I'm pretty big,"
she chuckled nervously. "Anne, you're _looking_
at me."
"Sorry." I averted my gaze.
"Oh, I didn't-- I don't--"
I waited through the atypical pauses.
"Anne, there was something, the time we first
met, wasn't there."
I nodded, sideways to keep my gaze from
disturbing her.
"Look at me."
I did so. Ginger turned her head to get a
full image in one eye. "You're beautiful," she
said.
"You, too," I smiled, wrinkling my lip a
bit.
"Do you mean that?"
I twitched my ears in mock irritation. "You
know what I mean. I know you smell and see
everything about me."
"Ever think about your sexuality, when you
were beginning your human studies?"
I shook my head.
She shifted a little. "Are you thinking about
it now?"
If it had just been Ginger, just Ginger and
myself in the Tasmanian outback, or on the moon
somewhere, I would still have had no cause to
wonder. It was startling, it was even
frightening, but Ginger's honesty and Ginger
herself made all questions seem needless. There
was nothing to say. I had no fear, with her.
None. I, Anne, the shyest of the shy, was not
afraid with or near or about Ginger. No-- the
frightening part was what she told me about
everybody _else_, what she felt compelled to tell
me because she cared, and even though I had read
it and seen it in fictions and distant news I had
a painful time stomaching the same words in a
friend's voice.
She was worried about me. She had been aware
of her sexuality for years, but she remembered how
it had been. And she saw my bewilderment at the
very idea that she or anything about her could be
considered "evil."
"They will not let you be, Anne," she told
me, her drawling voice quiet as we sat close and
nearly shivering on a rock near the ocean.
"I have been told things before that weren't
true," I said, looking up at her and feeling that
if Ginger were afraid, that even then there was no
need to fear, because she would never let anything
harm me.
"I know. And it's a crying shame. But I
need to tell you, it was horrible for me. Not for
long, but it was bad while it lasted. Intense.
And we may both be in for it. I have not had a
partner of any kind. There has been no reason to
question it, for those who-- for whatever reason--
seem compelled to do so. I can't ask you to stay
with me, be with me, without telling you-- I want
to be your support. But if you choose to suppress
it, you may be better off without me. Goodness
knows, I've been told often enough that you can
suppress it, that this is a choice. If you
believe that, do it now."
I nuzzled her. "I was told to suppress what
I was. They didn't even know they were wrong.
And I have never been attracted to anyone before.
Plenty of people have been nice to me, but one is
as nice as another. I want _you_ to tell me what
to do. I just want you."
"Anne, no, I can't and won't tell you what to
do. You need to decide. I can't be responsible
for--"
"You're not responsible." I had already
found that a determined, soulful look with my
dark, round eyes would affect Ginger to no end,
and I used one to cement my point. "I am a woman,
an adult, half a Thylacine, half a human, and you
can't control me. I am listening to you because
you fascinate me." I turned on the gaze a little
more. "Now, it's too late to leave me without
hurting me."
"Anne," sighed Ginger, "you're not fair."
But in that instant Ginger's whole demeanor
grew, if possible, even more determined and bold
than before. I think that, despite all the
confusion that overtook me whenever I was alone to
think this baffling new development over, despite
the dark truths Ginger had learned in the South
and in the SCABS underground at MacLeod, we really
believed that nothing could hurt me if she was my
companion.
It makes me shudder to think of the human
beings who pay such close attention to their
surroundings only for decidedly negative purposes.
Our actions should have meant nothing to a
stranger, on the trip Ginger and I took into
Boston. Perhaps they knew me from before, or from
the news, but that is no-- _no_ excuse. I don't
care if I _am_ an animal, I have rights. Angelo
knows that. Everybody knows that. I was worried
enough about what God would think, if He was
watching me, without even thinking that someone
might go out of their way to hurt for no reason
other than... What? What reason?
No reason. It was senseless.