Silly Things

Thought

Chapter 2

Side by side, the fox kits conversed as they walked. They were only going around a block or two, as Mike had insisted they return home before dark, since he didn't want to get into trouble with his father. According to Mike, his father gave him a lot of freedom, but expected him to follow the few rules he did make. Tai didn't object – he felt nervous, walking with this stranger in this stifling, concrete environment.

Mike set the pace, occasionally skipping a few steps ahead, or climbing on a limestone wall, or carefully trying to walk the curb. Tai ambled along, trying to take in this strange new world that was now his home. They were surrounded on all sides by imposing, and very ugly, apartment buildings, some of them so high that Tai had to lean all the way back to focus on their pinnacle. As they rounded the block, the tallest buildings in sight were still at least three storeys high. Mike told him that these were tiny in comparison to the ones closer to the middle of the city; it made him shudder.

Preoccupied when they first arrived, Tai hadn't had a chance to examine his new home's surroundings. His apartment building was easily the tallest for blocks around, as he noticed when he and the older boy ambled out of the spacious lobby into the street. Thick stone pillars decorated the front of the building, and the sidewalk out front was more a wide boulevard of square paving stones and towering streetlights.

There was more to New York City than concrete, Tai had to admit. That had been his first impression as they were driving through the vehicle-packed roads or before then, when he caught sight of the sprawling city away in the distance. Though less than he'd like, there were trees and bushes, evenly spread along the sidewalk, and the occasional larger trees shaded the boys from the cool evening sun as they padded down the street together. Some windows and building entrances were covered with awnings or concrete overhangs, and small window-boxes housed tiny gardens high up from the ground. But the relentless noise of traffic nearby, the sour stink and the towering structures on all sides reminded Tai that he was still in a grimy city, no matter how they prettied it up.

Despite the occasional car, and one or two noisy buses that growled past deafeningly, the streets they walked were mostly deserted. Their chatter was punctuated every so often by the sound of Tai's keys jingling in his pocket. He always made sure he locked up, and he was glad his mother had given him his own keys already. If she hadn't, he wouldn't have dared leave the house.

Last time he'd gone outside and left the house unlocked and empty, it was one of the few times his mother actually hit him. He made sure to never repeat that mistake.

Curious, Tai glanced down every alley he found, and he didn't like what he saw in them. Trashcans and huge skips, bins so large he had only ever seen them at his mother's old workplace, sat festering between the buildings, and, despite their presence, carelessly discarded litter was still thickly strewn about the alleyways. Dirty, rusty air-conditioning and ventilation units thrummed away within fenced enclosures at almost every building's base. He shuddered.

Meanwhile, Mike was chortling his way through describing an incident where he'd nearly been run down by a school bus on this very road. Tai was mostly just listening, still unsure what to say to this older fox boy. He was so talkative; that wasn't a problem, no. Tai liked to have someone to talk to, and Mike's gregariousness was ever so slightly eroding his wariness.

The older boy paused, noticing for the first time that Tai was watching his surroundings like a hawk. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Tai shook his head. "No." He didn't meet Mike's eyes. "Things are just different here."