Sohna and Vivian - My Brother's Keeper

Virginia was thirsty. She opened her eyes into the dim grey light of predawn. Somewhere, beyond the window, far below on the street, a horn blared. The sound was so familiar it frightened her, making her wonder, for just an instant, if the whole time she’d thought she’d spent in the Nine Kingdoms had been some kind of dream from which she was only now waking. With a sudden panic, she turned to look at the man sleeping beside her, relief at finding him literally bringing tears to her eyes. Silently, she let them trickle down her nose and cheek into her ear before wiping them away. She knew she’d become almost a basket case in the last week. The sleeping man was her lifeline; If he hadn’t existed ... If she’d only imagined him ... A fresh supply of hot tears welled up.

She sat up and dashed them away, careful not to wake the man.  He’d been exhausted, she knew. For the past week, she had done little but sleep - in sleep she could lose her memory of what had happened and how. It allowed her invisibility, non-existence, a place to hide from herself.; Yet there were times when she’d had to wake, and always he had been there, sitting by her side, watching. It was he who held her during those early days when she cried, and then later when she could do nothing but sit numbly still; he who insisted that she eat and bathe, and he who ultimately suggested that she return to the familiar surroundings of New York.

And he had been right. Coming home had given her some purpose; forced her to take part in life, and even if she was only going through the motions, at least she was moving under her own will. She’d laughed today for the first time in the past week, and been startled by the relief she saw in his face. Until then she hadn’t realized what a strain he’d been under from worrying about her, and with that realization understood just how self-absorbing grief was. Her mother was dead. He was not - he was right here beside her and he wasn’t going away. It had taken her a long time to learn that, but she had finally managed it. He gave her emotional security - something she’d lacked since her mother had walked out when she was seven, something she’d searched for ever since but didn’t believe existed. And while she could technically claim she’d only been able to find it in the land of make-believe, the man who lay beside her was definitely not imaginary. He was very real and very solid. And if he was somewhat magical (at least he seemed magical to her, though he would have denied it with his dying breath), then that was what had been necessary to convince her she was truly loved.

She studied his face, longing to touch it, but didn’t want to wake him.He didn’t look very magical at all lying there on his stomach asleep with the sheet pulled up under his arms. With his mass of almost-black hair and olive skin, he might have been any man in the city. Only he wasn’t, of course. All she had to do was lift the sheet and look at what lay beneath it: Beginning in the middle of his back, just below his shoulder blades, was a line of silvery gray fur which ran down his spine, feathered out toward his sides in the small of his back, and culminated in a furry tail that right now reached almost to his knees, and for some inexplicable reason she didn’t understand, varied in length according to a monthly cycle. The remainder of him appeared perfectly human.

But it hadn’t been his wolf-like qualities which had captured her heart. It had been more, she thought, his passion for absolutely everything, expressed not only in the unconditional love he had for her, but in a general attitude of joy of living. Even in sleep she could see that the fine lines around his eyes had all been etched from happiness and laughter. In the mental picture she carried of him he was always smiling at her with those bluish green eyes.

Quietly she got up, being as careful as she could to not jostle the bed. Wolf stirred a bit, but didn’t open his eyes. Virginia studied him a moment longer, then walked into the adjoining bathroom. Indoor plumbing had been something she’d longed for during her stay in the Nine Kingdoms, but she’d never imagined anything like this. The ceiling was entirely composed of panes of glass, pitched to a central apex, like the roof of a square greenhouse. Small tropical trees literally grew out of the floor, undercarpeted with asian jasmine and mondo grass.  The floor was paved with green slate flagstones, which led around a stand of trees and shrubbery to the bath, nestled into its surroundings like a spring-fed pool. The effect was enhanced by a glass wall which opened out onto a private courtyard on the roof, and by the judicious use of mirrors that made the whole area seem infinitely large.

Virginia regarded herself critically in the mirror closest to the bedroom door. Her chopped-off brown hair stuck straight up on the right side of her head where she’d laid on it. Absently, she tried to mash it down, but it stubbornly resisted her efforts. She sighed. Her hair had never been this short before in her life. Still, she wasn’t sure she could stand to let it grow out, after what had happened. The sheer weight of that gypsy-cursed hair was going to haunt her for quite awhile. And, Wolf had done a pretty good job of giving her a haircut - or maybe the magic axe had something to do with it. Not to mention the shorter hair had been rather practical for a month-long trek across the countryside. She noticed as well that she now had somewhat of a tan between her ankles and mid-thigh - not exactly fit for the beach, she thought wryly - and that the scattering of freckles on her face and upper chest had grown darker and more numerous. Thank God she’d had a full bottle of sunblock in her pack, or her fair skin would’ve burnt to a cinder on the first day. All that exercise had really gotten her into good shape, though - probably better shape than she’d ever been in before in her life. But at that thought, her hand involuntarily pressed her camisole flat against her stomach. Was she really pregnant, she wondered? Wolf claimed she was, but she really wasn’t sure if he meant he had some sixth animal sense that told him, or if he simply thought that a baby was the natural outcome of love-making. And even if it was some sixth sense, she didn’t see how he could have known a mere two days after the event, although she had to admit, after counting backwards, that the timing was probably about right for it. Her period wasn’t due to start until Tuesday. She’d have to wait to know till then at least.

Well, she’d gotten up originally to get herself a drink - and she was still thirsty. She turned on the swan-necked tap over the fluted deep blue porcelain sink and poured some water into the lead crystal goblet she’d left there the night before, then stared at the extravagant glass in her hand. It was typical of everything around her - there was nothing ordinary in the whole place except a few personal belongings from what she regarded as almost a previous life. It was probably the most blatant example of how magic had somehow spilled across the portal into her world, and she had been amazed to find it had been her father’s doing ...

“Ooooohhhhh ... what is that?”

“Oh, that’s a picture of the Earth, taken from space.”

“Really? ... How did they get up so high?”

“They have rockets and ships that take them there. There’s a model of one here. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

“Wait a minute. What are these? Clouds?”

“Yeah, those are clouds. And this is land, here, this is the Arabian peninsula. You can’t see where we are, though, it’s on the other side.”

“Then all this is water? There’s so much ...”

“Uh huh.”

“Cripes, its so beautiful. Don’t you think so? Like looking at the moon, only more ...”

“Oh, they’ve been to the moon, too.”

Silence.

“There’s a model of the moon lander over there. You want to see it?”

Silence.

“Are you all right?”

“To the moon. Standing on the moon?”

“Yes. It was a long time ago, though - before I was born. They had to wear special suits because there isn’t any air. There’s a whole exhibit ... You’re not all right. You want to sit down?”

Silence.

“My God, your face is completely white. Here, sit down. You’re not getting sick again on me, are you?”

“Virginia ...”

“Would you like a drink? ... Or, do you think you could eat something? What am I saying? When can you not eat something?”

“Okay.”

The front steps of the museum were drenched in the hot light of the noonday sun, though it had risen far enough in the sky to allow a reasonable amount of cooler shade under the portico.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit down again?” Virginia asked, stopping just outside the door.

“No,” replied Wolf, taking a deep breath, “I’m fine now. Really. See?”

She studied his face, noting that the color had returned to his cheeks, and more importantly, that there seemed to be no sign of the terrible fever he’d run almost three weeks ago in Little Lamb Village. Inside the museum, there had been a distant look in his eyes which had reminded her too much of that time.

“You said we were going to eat?” he reminded her, smiling, his eyes lively with the old merriment, clear and green. No, she thought, there was no remoteness in them now. Maybe she had imagined it. Maybe it had just been the light.

“I thought we could go to the restaurant where I used to work,” she suggested. “They do still owe me some money for the last few days I was there. It’s a bit of a walk, though.”

“It’s not that far. And they have good food.”

“You’ve eaten there?” She was stunned.

He grinned apologetically. “It was when I was first looking for the dog Wendell. I hadn’t met you yet.”

“You ... you paid for the food, didn’t you?”

“Of course I paid for the food.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.” She took his hand. He squeezed her hand in return and began caressing it with his thumb, but as they walked along his attention drifted away to the cloudless blue sky overhead as if he were searching for something unseen there. With growing unease, she realized the problems they’d face if he were to become really ill here: She couldn’t possibly call for help without creating an uproar the moment a doctor examined him. And even if she were willing to risk that - which she otherwise certainly would be if his life were in danger - she couldn’t be completely sure that any treatment he might receive wouldn’t do him more harm than good. He might be used to managing on his own, no matter what (as he had insisted upon in Little Lamb Village), but she knew she’d never forgive herself if she let anything happen to him. Suppose he collapsed on her between here and the Grill? He’d looked near to fainting in the museum. It was her fault he was here at all. The only good thing about it was that at least they’d pass the portal on their way.

Once across Central Park West and beneath the canopy of trees, he looked down and her and smiled, and she breathed a little easier. Still, she knew she’d have to stop putting off what she had to get done: She had to go back to her apartment and see what Mr. Murray had done with her (and her father’s) things. She was sure they’d been impounded by now, but she needed to know where and how much it would take to claim them - for some reason she thought she should know all that before finding them a place to stay for the night, though now she couldn’t recall quite why. It was just that she had been dreading the confrontation with Mr. Murray. Her dread seemed trivial now, though, in comparison to the scare Wolf had just given her. She resolved to go find out about it right after lunch, then laughed at her own duplicity. The museum had been just across the street from Murray’s building. They were now halfway across the Park, walking away from it. Oh, well, she had already promised Wolf some food ...

“Oooh, I can smell it!” he exclaimed, right on cue. “Steak and chicken and mmmm ... lamb again!”

She smiled and, realizing she’d practically been holding her breath, let it out, relieved to hear him sounding so normal. “Is that what you had when you were here before? The lamb?”

“Oh, yes!! And it was soooo succulent! Prepared to absolute perfection! - once I’d gotten across how I wanted it prepared, that is. Of course, the fact that it was my first meal out of prison probably helped a lot, too.”

His first after prison meal? The mental image that conjured up did nothing to ease her trepidation about showing up after all this time to ask for her paycheck. Oh, well ...

“How long were you in prison, exactly?” she asked. She’d stopped caring why after she’d seen what had happened in Little Lamb Village. And after she’d realized she could trust him with her heart. Whatever he’d done - if it was anything - couldn’t have been much, she thought.

“About nine years, I think. Give or take a year or two.”

“Nine years?!!!” She stopped and looked up into his face, outraged.

“I think that’s how long it was,” he said matter-of-factly, with a little scratch at his temple. “It’s kind of hard to keep track of time there.”

“But nine years?! That’s a huge chunk of your life! How could they? It isn’t fair ...”

“But Virginia,” he said softly, caressing her face with his hand, “If I hadn’t been in prison in the first place, I’d never have met you.”

There was nothing she could say in reply to that - even though she remembered very well the bitter way he’d described being imprisoned when she’d first met him. Tears stung her eyes at how he could decide that the ends justified the means when the means had been so cruelly forced upon him. He brushed his fingers through her hair, then took her hand again as they resumed their walk.

As they waited to be seated, Virginia quickly scanned the visible employees. She didn’t think any of them had been on duty that last night she’d spent in New York - the night she’d found Wendell - but she wasn’t sure. It seemed like such a long time ago now. Wolf had already found a menu and was as engrossed in it as if it had been a best-selling thriller. Finally, Amy approached them, her expression changing to surprise when she recognized Virginia.

“Oh, my God!” she squealed. “Where have you been?! Oh, look at your hair! It looks good!” At that last remark, she’d stolen a glance at Wolf, who had barely glanced up from the menu. She bit her lip and gave Virginia a ‘significant’ look. “You want a table?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” replied Wolf. “As quickly as possible.”

She raised her eyebrows and led them to a table against the outside half-wall.

“Is Sal here?” Virginia asked her after they were seated.

“Yeah,” said Amy, “But I’ll warn you he’s not happy with you after the way you left.”

“I really didn’t expect him to be.”

“Candy will be glad to know you’re okay, though. She was really afraid something had happened to you.”

Wolf closed his menu and looked up expectantly.

“Um, why don’t we go ahead and order and then I can go and talk to Sal while we’re waiting,” said Virginia.

They did, with Virginia including an appetizer of buffalo wings for Wolf to munch on while she was gone. Then she steeled herself for the confrontation with Sal.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she told Wolf.

“You want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No. Thanks. It’s okay. It shouldn’t take very long.”

“Well, well,” began Sal, when she’d opened the door to his office. He eyed her up and down. “I knew you’d come crawling back here eventually ...”

“I came to pick up my last paycheck,” she said briskly.

He scowled. “You realize your position has already been filled.”

Sal had used to intimidate her, but now she was surprised to find that he had no power over her whatsoever. “Yes, I assumed that it would be,” she agreed. “I only came for my paycheck.”

He yanked open a drawer, withdrew an envelope and threw it forcefully down on the desk in front of her.

“Here you go,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said as she picked it up, tore it open and verified the amount. Truthfully, she couldn’t even remember exactly how many hours she’d worked, but wasn’t about to let Sal know it.

As she turned to leave, he spat, “Oh, and don’t bother using me as a reference when you want another job somewhere.”

She closed the door behind her and sighed. One confrontation down, one to go. She looked up just as Candy came in through the back door.

“Virginia!” cried the blonde, running over and throwing her arms around her. “Oh, I was so worried about you - oh, gee, you got your hair cut, it’s cute! - where were you?!”

“Oh ... I, um ... had to go to my mother’s funeral,” she said, hoping that would explain her absence well enough.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, my God,” said Amy, coming up behind her. “Did you tell that to Sal? He might ...”

“No,” said Virginia, cutting her off. “Look, thanks, but I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Oh. Okay,” Amy replied. Then, after a moment of awkward silence, she added, “So, who is he?”

“What?” asked Candy, confused.

“She came in with this drop dead gorgeous guy,” explained Amy. “So, who is he?” she repeated.

Virginia smiled in spite of herself.

“Oh, he’s my fiance,” she said.

They both stared at her for a moment, speechless.

“No kidding,” Candy said finally.

“That was fast,” put in Amy with a grin. She reached for Virginia’s left hand. “Is this it?” she asked, indicating the ring.

Slowly, the ring’s face rose to the surface of the pearl as it awoke. It smiled, basking in the admiration. Virginia froze, then slowly let her breath out, reminding herself that no one besides her and Wolf could see that, or hear the ring sing. The two girls were bending over it in awe, regardless.

“Yeah,” she said.

“A pearl, huh?” asked Candy. “Is it real or cultured?”

“Real,” replied Virginia immediately. She was afraid she knew where this was going, and surprised herself by getting annoyed at it. Though she loved Wolf desperately, the idea of marriage terrified her, and the ring had seemed to symbolize the feelings she had of being trapped into it: The first time he’d tried to give it to her, she’d refused and nearly lost him forever. The second time, it had appeared almost by magic (well, it was a magic ring), and he had then insisted that she had to accept it because she was pregnant. His reasoning had irked her, but she had no intention of making the same mistake twice and losing him again, so she’d accepted it, hoping fervently that he was wrong about her condition. If she did get married, she wanted to be sure it was because she wanted to, not because outside circumstances forced her into it. The ring itself she didn’t really like at all, and only wore to please him, so what she knew Candy was going to say shouldn’t have bothered her. But it did.

“It sure is an odd color - I mean it’s nice and all that!” the girl said, examining it closely, “But I’d want a diamond if it was me.”

The ring itself hadn’t stopped smiling, but still managed to convey what it must have felt to Virginia through its expression. Then, it raised its sweet voice and sang,

“Oh my what a sight!
That girl is such a dreadful fright.
Not as pretty as a rose -
She's got a booger in her nose.”

Virginia gasped. She couldn’t help it. It took every ounce of will she had to force herself to cough instead of laugh.

“Are you okay?” asked Amy. Candy looked up at the same time, and Virginia couldn’t help but notice that the ring was right. She coughed harder and then it got easier because she really did start to cough.

“Sorry,” she finally explained, gasping, “Allergies.”

Amy nodded sympathetically, then turned to Candy.

“Well?” she asked expectantly.  “Remember what you said you’d do if Virginia came back?”

Virginia only half paid attention to what they were saying. Her mind was too busy wondering what had gotten into her ring.

“ ... I know I should never have given your address to that guy, but I just couldn’t help it,” Candy was saying. “This sounds so stupid, but he was just so incredibly sexy, I think I would have done anything he asked! I felt terrible when you didn’t come in afterwards - I was sure something awful had happened to you! I just never had a guy have that much of an effect on me ...”

Her words suddenly cut off and her mouth formed into an ‘O’, her face gone white, as she stared past Virginia’s left shoulder.

For a brief moment Virginia wondered if Candy were going to faint. Then it hit her who the girl’s incredibly sexy guy was. She didn’t even need Amy’s “Oh, there he is,” to confirm that Wolf had walked up behind her. Still, her eyes remained transfixed on Candy, who had by now flushed bright red and started to hyperventilate. The booger wiggled up and down. It was the last straw.

Virginia’s control gone, she doubled over in a fit of laughter, barely able to breathe. Tears came to her eyes and ran freely down her face. She was aware of Wolf holding onto her, and could feel the concern radiating from him. She knew she probably looked as if she were in pain.

Oh, no, he probably thinks I’m having a miscarriage! she thought. She tried to pat him on the arm in reassurance, finally managing to gasp, “I’m laughing!”

He backed away a couple of inches and cupped his hands to her face, tilting it up to search her eyes, as he’d done when he’d rescued her from the swamp that day, and the relief in his face at what he found was almost as great as it had been then. At first she thought he had simply been glad she was okay. But it lasted - that same look of happy relief - all through their meal, whenever his eyes rested on her, growing more relaxed as time passed, until she realized that something else had eased his mind: he had seen her laugh for the first time since her mother had died. And when she’d told him what the ring had said, he’d even confirmed it - after nearly choking on his food, of course.

“Well, you probably needed a good, hard laugh,” he’d told her, after he’d finally managed to swallow. “I guess the ring knew that. Don’t you feel a little better?”

She’d had to admit that she did - as if there had been a thick rope tied around her ribcage that had finally snapped. Only she still felt a little bad about Candy: When she’d finally caught her breath, she’d noticed that Amy had been laughing almost as hard, since it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Candy must have been talking about Wolf, either. But Candy herself was nowhere to be found, and Virginia had known that she must have run away, mortified. She resolved to return later to patch things up.

They walked out from the cover of the trees and the apartment building loomed before them, a squat, multi-tiered tower of dull pale beige across the street. It looked no different than it ever had, Virginia thought, only wasn’t her home any more. She took a deep breath and let it out.

“I’m not looking forward to this,” she said, and looked up at her companion.

Wolf squeezed her hand, but didn’t look back at her. Instead, he seemed to be surveying their destination with avid curiosity and what she thought might even be ... cautious expectation?

“Oh, it might not be so bad,” he said, though the tone of his voice indicated that it could be very bad indeed. Uncertain what to make of his reaction, she shrugged, puzzled, and started across the street.

They made it to the elevator without incident. The doors closed and the car lurched on its way, lights flickering. Wolf wrinkled his nose. “Still smells a little like Troll,” he commented, making her wonder how he could possibly smell that over the stench of burnt plastic and overheated wiring. The thing still did not operate properly. Murray couldn’t blame this on her father - or could he, she wondered, by blaming it on his absence? In any case, she had already resolved to try her own door first before knocking on Murray’s.

The elevator ground to a halt with a screeching whine and the doors opened. The first thing Virginia noticed was that they’d stopped a good six inches short of the floor. The second thing she noticed was Murray standing in front of the door to her apartment. Her mouth went dry and she felt the blood drain from her face, but she forced herself to take a step forward. This was what she’d come for, after all. She might as well get it over with.

She’d taken about three steps out of the elevator before he finally recognized her.

“Miss Lewis!” he cried happily, beaming. “You’re back!” After this greeting, his attention immediately shifted to any and all points beyond her. “Is your father coming along shortly, then?” he inquired eagerly.

“No,” she began, bewildered by his reaction. He’d always sneered at her before while gleefully snatching at every opportunity to reprimand her dad. She shot a glance at Wolf, who was watching the scene with bemused interest. Until he noticed her staring at him, that is. Then he merely looked guilty. It was obvious that he knew something about this and he was going to have quite a bit of explaining to do, she thought, but it would have to wait, because Murray had obviously paid no attention to what she had said. He was still searching the space behind her as if he expected her father to appear in a puff of smoke any second.

“Mr. Murray!” she cried, planting herself firmly in front of him and looking him squarely in the eye (which was no easy task, considering his eyes refused to rest). “My father is NOT coming back today!” she shouted, “Do you understand? He’s NOT coming back!”

It took a couple of moments, but finally her words managed to register. At least his eyes finally focused on her, she thought.

“Oh,” he said, crestfallen. “We had so hoped ... Have you any idea when he might be arriving?” He was near to whining.

Virginia was becoming exasperated. “No,” she began, but Wolf suddenly cut her off. “Mrs. Lewis has just passed away,” he said with all the sober gravity of a funeral director. “Mr. Lewis has been obligated to remain in order to tidy up her affairs.”

For just a moment, Virginia saw the old Murray as he eyed Wolf, whom he apparently considered a cretin intruding into their conversation. She quickly stepped in.

“Oh, Mr. Murray, I’d like you to meet my fiance, Mr. Wolf,” she said. Murray looked blankly at her for a moment, then his entire attitude abruptly changed, as if a switch had been thrown. He smiled at Wolf and shook his hand, but maddeningly to Virginia, went on talking about her father.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t realize that there was a Mrs. Lewis. At least not any more. Uh, that is ...” he floundered for the words, apparently realizing he’d committed some sort of social blunder. Wolf stepped up, put his arm around Murray’s shoulders and led him a few steps away from Virginia.

“Mrs. Lewis had been institutionalized,” he explained, his voice still sepulchral. His back was turned and he was speaking very quietly, but Virginia could still understand what he was saying. She wondered idly if he thought she couldn’t. “Talking about it upsets my fiance dreadfully, so it’s probably best if we don’t discuss it,” he continued. “I’m sure that’s what Mr. Lewis would want. Especially considering she’s his only child.”

She saw Murray nod emphatically in understanding. Then he turned and took her hand.

“My dear,” he purred, “If there’s anything I can do ...”

Virginia saw her chance and leaped at it.

“Actually, I came to find out about the apartment ...” she began hopefully.

“Oh, dear me!” he exclaimed, interrupting her. “I had completely forgotten the reason I was standing post here in the first place!”

“Standing post?”

“Yes, yes! You see, the building was without a janitor and some of the tenants were beginning to complain! And, well, of course, this apartment is part of the compensation for that job. So, naturally, when we hired the new man, he needed to be able to live here, and, well ...”

“That’s all right,” she found herself saying, “I really rather expected that. So if you could just tell me where ...”

“But the place was entirely unsuitable for your father anyway,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “And while I tried my best to find appropriate lodgings for him here, I’m afraid it simply wouldn’t have worked out. You see, far too many of these tenants are insufferable snobs who think of your father as nothing but a former servant.” He spat the word out as if it tasted bad. “So I’m afraid I had no choice but to relocate him elsewhere. We’ve provided a penthouse for him on Fifth Avenue.”

Virginia’s jaw dropped. “A penthouse on Fifth Avenue?” she repeated dully.

“Yes. So terribly far away, but there was no help for it,” he sighed.