Rooftops

For Jidza10

“You feeling okay, Jed?”

I glanced up at Mitch from my doodle pad. “Why?”

“You’ve not touched your lunch is all.” The wolf gestured his fork down to the spicy chicken I must’ve picked out for myself, congealing in its own sauce. Somehow it looked even less appetising than usual. No mean feat for something from our school cafeteria.

“Not hungry.” Back to my pad I turned. “Might eat some in a bit.” They left me to the scribbles I’d got onto paper so far. Seemed that was all I could produce lately.

“Wha’cha drawing?” Clay asked from his seat beside me.

“Not much, honestly,” I answered with a sigh.

“Anything we can check out?”

“Go for it.” My pad fell out of my paw, slapping down to the middle of the table. Both he and Mitch took the time to study the few messy lines I’d sketched beneath the last piece I’d actually completed... A whole month ago.

“Wassup?” Clay sat forward, muzzle creeping into view. I didn’t bother offering the badger my attention in return.

“What’s this then?” Troy’s all too familiar grunting sent my ears and shoulders sinking. “C’mon, speck. I wanna see.”

The bear’s gut pressed into my back, jerking my shoulders forward. My head dipped. I’d learned to accept what was to come by then.

“Did you draw that?” His group of kissass friends circling him entered my periphery. “Figured...” They couldn’t wait to burst into their own mocking once Troy added, “Sucks bad.”

The teachers here couldn’t have cared less about bullying before Registration, and they damn sure hadn’t since. Especially if it involved someone like me: a Requoran.

“Not hungry?” His mitt of a paw reached for my lunch tray. “I’ll help you out with that.”

His crew kept on snickering as he lifted it high overhead, sneering back down at me. Not that I cared. He’d been riding me for weeks. I was so damn tired of it all.

“Y’know what.” He snatched up my sketchpad in his other paw. “Think I’ll take this off your hands, too.”

“Hey!” That got my attention.

“You clearly ain’t cut out for it.”

“Give it back!”

“How ‘bout you make me?”

I jumped up from my seat. That just got even more laughs. Most us Requorans stood shorter on average. Me? I barely came up past Troy’s stomach.

“Come on, boy. Jump for it.”

Even if I did, I had no hope of reaching it, hovering high over Troy’s head. Along with my lunch tray.

“Be a good little Husky.”

My friends meanwhile spent the whole time just sitting there, eyes down to their own food. No interest in getting involved, or having my back.

“Give it back, Troy!” I climbed onto my chair, leaping and swiping at his arm. My fingertips brushed my sketchpad. Of course, that just begged him to lift it even higher.

“Almost.” His sneer became a grin. “Try again.”

I didn’t much care about all the attention I’d won from our classmates at the tables around us. All I wanted was my pad. Another jump brought another failure. Then another. That brought even more laughter.

“Get his cloaker,” I heard from one of Troy’s friends. “That’ll make things interesting.”

“Might as well,” he replied. “Not like it’d make much difference, huh?”

My arms reached out with barely a thought. I shoved Troy in the chest, only to get a way harder one in return. A kick from somewhere connected with my chair. Everything went sideways. I saw the ceiling, the table next to me, and finally the floor. I slammed to the latter with an echoing thump. Pain seared up my arm from my wrist. The taste of copper came last, moments after my muzzle crunched against the tiles.

“Have a nice trip?” I heard, followed by yet more laughter, and insults, from the crowd around me.

“Back down where you belong,” Troy growled. “Those cloakers don’t hide what you really are. Damn micros.”

My ears folded to the sound of tearing. Joining the droplets of blood, my crumpled, ruined sketchbook hit the ground beside me. My lunch followed, splashing into and stickying my face.

“Catch you later.” He cracked open my soda, taking a gulp as he and his friends slinked away.

“You okay?”

“Do I look okay to you?” I glared up at Mitch as I picked myself from the floor, wiping what I could of the sauce from my muzzle. “Thanks for the help.”

“Listen,” Clay called. “Ya really gotta tell someone ‘bout this. Maybe Mr. Kenni--”

“Because that’s worked so well so far!” I grabbed my chair from where it’d landed. “No-one here gives a damn.”

Again, the prying eyes around us caught my attention, growing in number by the second. They were all staring, snickering, whispering among themselves. My cheeks went warm. Ears, too.

I grabbed what was left of my sketchpad, keeping my muzzle towards the floor as I rushed for the exit.

“Jed, wait up.”

I didn’t. Ignoring Clay, and Mitch, I got out of there as quick as I could. Happy Monday.

Things got no better for me that week. Troy and his friends stayed on my case for most of it, poking fun in the halls, cornering me in the bathroom with idle threats, and jumping me on the school field with more genuine ones. This stuff had become painfully regular in the weeks since Registration, and showed no signs of stopping.

At my weakest moment, shortly after getting dumped face first into a garbage bin on Wednesday morning, I decided to take Mitch up on his advice. Not that the off-handed, almost bored sounding ‘we’ll look into it’ I got back from Principal Custis helped. Nor did it stop Troy messing with me all the way through to Friday’s final bell.

“Your homework for this week is to read up on and answer the exercise questions in chapter six,” Mr. Kennison called, tail lashing as he battled the rumble of everyone leaving their workstations. “And I do mean all of them.” The silver muzzled wolf watched us all scramble across the Biology lab, adding the usual, “Any questions, come ask.” He seemed to focus on me. “Anything you want to talk about or discuss, my door’s always open.” My fur frizzed. I turned away.

“So what’s going down this weekend?” Clay led us into the hall, joining everyone else piling out from their own classes.

“No plans really,” Mitch replied. “Gonna see how things pan out.”

“Fair.”

I hung a couple of steps back. Let them have space to discuss things. All I wanted was to get out of here. Away from all these Neotrians towering over me, even with my cloaker on.

“Ya good?” Clay stopped. Mitch, too.

I pulled my backpack strap tighter. Kept my eyes downwards. “I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“Said I am, didn’t I?”

“A’ight.” Clay shifted on his feet. “Got anything you wanna do this weekend?” I didn’t answer. He shuffled again. “Ya mentioned last week ‘bout seeing that new Superfox movie.”

“Maybe.” He and Mitch were keeping me from the exit. I marched on. “Whatever.”

I didn’t get more than a few steps before something clubbed the back of my head. “Hey, speck.” Should’ve guessed it’d be Troy. “Catch you next week, huh?”

He smirked down at me, growling at a couple more collar-wearing students as he barged them aside. His hangers on were never far away, chasing down the hall after him.

Finally, I made it outside to the where the school buses sat waiting. The crowd of people swarming them was a less welcome sight.

“Jed, where ya headed?”

Clay’s voice started to grate with all these questions. “Wanna walk home today.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, for real.”

“Sure that’s safe?”

“I told you! I want to walk!”

He and Mitch stopped followed. My ears dipped. “Just… want some exercise. Time to think.”

I slumped off away from them, hearing Mitch call out, “I’ll message you later, okay? Talk about tomorrow?”

My shoulders sagged, head dropping further. I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

The lead up to Registration had got me petrified, watching things get more and more volatile both inside and outside of school. Not that they’d been all that great beforehand. Even with my Requoran heritage kept secret, known only to my closest friends, my family, I’d been the target of bullies for most of my school life. Being as short as I was had seen to that.

But, I’d managed to come through it in one piece. To fade out and focus on the people that did have time for me. Like Clay and Mitch. Ever since that day, though, when the world decided that Requorans were less than Neotrians, things had kicked into overdrive.

Plenty of us suffered at their hands, metaphorically and physically. These damn collars ended any chance, any hope we had of ever blending in. To be normal people. They’d ruined friendships. Ended relationships. Fractured whole families. That last one I knew all about.

The whole atmosphere at school, in town, and all over the country was toxic. A feeling of us and them had developed. Not that all of ‘us’ together had a hope in hell of changing anything. Each and every one of us were alone in this.

A slam against my shoulder knocked me off balance. I needed a couple of steps to correct myself. Laughter from behind soon caught my attention.

“Watch it, micro,” some fox spat. “These here is our streets.”

I pulled my bag tighter. Quicker I walked, almost jogging. How could things get so screwed in such a short time?

I’d suffered more bullying and taunting like that in the last few weeks than probably my whole time at high school so far put together. Nothing suggested things would get better… and I had a whole ‘nother year to go before high school was done. Even then, that didn’t mean things would get any better. I’d still have to deal with pricks like that guy pretty much anywhere I went. On top of everything at home…

Dad lost so much work after Registration… Plus Mom had her hours at the store cut almost in half. Neither of them had taken it well. All their shouting and bickering brought me well up to speed on things. Unless Dad could win some new clients, or Mom could find a way to make up the difference, sooner or later, we’d end up losing the house. The house… home… I didn’t even have that to rely on.

It was strange, though. Even with all of that going on, even with the knowledge that this whole world full of Troys and other hate-filled Neotrians wanted us gone… I didn’t feel anything. I’d passed sadness. Anger. Fear. For the most part anyway. All I had left was a hole, growing day by day, bringing nothing but… numbness. I counted my blessings and cursed them all at once.

I detoured off into the long empty industrial area that sat halfway from home. My friends and I used to come here all the time as kids to screw around. Hurling stones through windows, climbing up onto the rickety old walkways and platforms, swinging on pipes, sitting around and chill on the stairwells. Things were so much simpler then. Before all this. Before everyone in the world could see this damn collar of mine. I guess it made sense to come back here.

Most of the factories and warehouses had gone, replaced now with new houses and apartment blocks. A few still remained, like the old warehouse I used to hang with Mitch and Clay at. It’d crumbled badly since I last climbed through the front gate. Whole window frames and sections of wall were now missing. Old rusted shelving that hadn’t already been stolen stood in the shadows, crippled and collapsed. Skeletons from a long distant past.

I stepped past the smashed front door, bent out of shape through age and abuse. The damp, musty air clung to my fur, filled my nostrils. It didn’t take long for my thoughts to take advantage of the silence.

Where can we go from here? What can I do? Day after day, week after week, the government were finding and destroying the underground cities called home by Requorans not lucky enough to own cloakers. Neotria and Neotrians alike wanted us wiped out. Honestly, being forced to wear these collars, it wouldn’t take much for them to round us up and make it so…

I stepped around the broken brickwork, past the fallen patches of ceiling, and onto the shattered stairway that led upstairs. Each step I took sent creaks all through the warehouse. I trod carefully, mindful of the shaking beneath me. More and more it seemed, I had to be careful.

There was no talking with Neotrians. No debating. No negotiation. From the president, to my Dad’s clients, Mom’s manager, all the way down to pricks like Troy; nobody cared about us, our rights, or our feelings. Not even my friends. Sure, they made the gesture, asked how I was every now and again, but it was easier for them to keep quiet. Let the Requoran deal with the abuse while they watch comfortably from the sidelines. They didn’t give a damn about me, not really. No-one did.

I snatched the corroded handrail tight, hissing at the bolt of pain shooting from my wrist. All that was missing was Troy’s sneering laugh. What was the point of this? Of any of this?

Two flights of stairs later, I stepped out onto the rooftop. The concrete looked sturdy enough. One of the few things that had fared well since the old days.

So often I’d sit around up here with friends, watching the clouds drift past, shooting the breeze and talking on about the future. The cloud cover was thick today. Grey and miserable. No-one around to talk with, either.

The wind ruffled my fur as I paced across tiling. It stung my raw eyes. Forced me to narrow them. I could still see what remained of the long closed factories around me, beyond the rusty guardrails. With a few more steps, those nice, new apartments came into view, then the houses. Perfect homes for perfect Neotrian families, I’m sure. Even further beyond, past my neighbourhood, cars and trucks rolled along the highway. Nothing had changed for most of the country. The majority were fine. They couldn’t care less about the plight of the minority. As long as we were in our place, wearing these goddamn collars like pets, slaves, all was right in their perfect world.

My muzzle fur started to dampen, tears forming past the overwhelming, unstoppable indifference. A wipe of my eyes, then my nose sent more sharpness searing through my muzzle. Another reminder of Troy and his friends… and I had more of this to look forward to.

More bullying on Monday. On Tuesday. Wednesday. Beyond that. I suppose I could move school… but there’d always be a Troy. Especially now, when every Requoran out there was a target.

The guardrail rubbed uncomfortably over my paw pads. Flecks of brown and orange rained from my grasp, peppering the ledge beneath. From here, I could see back down to the street, and to the overgrown, dying grass swaying in the wind. Not a sound could be heard from the broken buildings around me. Nor the shiny new ones beyond them.

‘Back down where you belong...’

As much as I’d tried to get rid of of them, Troy’s words had stayed firmed with me. As did the look of disdain I’d got from the principal on my attempt at reporting him. I had to face facts. This was never going to change. This was a Neotrian world and Requorans were an unwelcome part of it. Our complaining, our marching, our protests: none of it was going to stop this. Ever. So why try?

The ledge crunched beneath my shoe, then again under the other. I kept hold of the rail, watching yet more rust crumble from my paws. More of the grass came into view, along with the rubble and twisted metal scattered within. The gusting wind stabbed my eyes harder, drawing more tears.

My parents would be back from work soon. The arguments would start again. They had so many problems of their own to cope with. Ones that’d multiplied since we were kettled like cattle into that hot, crowded hall to get a collar and a number.

I let go of the rail, allowing myself to rock in the breeze. The grass below kept on waving amid the ruin of everything around us.

My parents didn’t need my issues on top of theirs. I’d was so tired. Tired of being alone. Of trying to fight back. Of everything. How did it all come to this?

“Hey!” I jolted. Fell backwards. Arms wrapped around my stomach. Squeezed and pulled harder. Panic set in. I struggled in vain. Again, totally outmatched.

It all happened so fast. I couldn’t process it. The voice sounded familiar, but my concern was only for the second pair of paws clasping my wrist, and my cloaker. I never stood a chance. My cloaker slipped from my finger easily. The dizziness struck, sending my head spinning for that familiar half-second.

Gone was the grass, the wind, the neighbourhood around it. Replaced instead by a wall of paw pads holding me tight. From behind, beneath the fabric I’d sunk into, the steady thundering of a heartbeat started my ears flicking.

The pressure left me unable to move anything but my fingers. The scent of the paw upon me wafted into my nose. Coupled with the voice still fresh in my ears, I gave a weak, muffled, “Mitch?”

The pressing eased. I could breathe easier. Move my arms and legs, too. The world revealed itself again. I rolled over to see the dark grey sky above, along with the gentler grey muzzle of a wolf watching back.

“What are you doing!?” Each of Mitch’s words boomed like cannon fire. I winced from it initially, less so at his follow up. “Why the hell are you up here?”

I sat up as he settled down on the ledge, balancing me in his palm. Not a moment later, Clay came into view, eyes wide and breathing heavily. The badger sucked down air, sending my ears dancing and dipping again with his own thunderous, “You okay?”

Again, that damn question. I threw my head into my paws, grumbling. On reflection, I doubt he noticed all too much down here atop Mitch’s sprawling palm pad.

“Why are you here?” I batted at his paw, looking up at Clay. “I told you I wanted to be alone!”

“We were worried,” Mitch replied. “Things are crazy right now. You know that.”

“Didn’t wan’cha walking home alone is all,” said Clay. “Glad we did come.”

“I didn’t know you were this… upset. That things with Troy had got you this--”

“It’s not just him,” I snapped, stopping them both fast. My paws were trembling. Voice, too. “I’m a mess.”

“Jed…” Clay turned away, peering down between his legs in his seat beside Mitch.

“It’s everything,” I muttered, forcing out the words. “Neotrians… want us all gone.” I covered my eyes. They started to dampen my paws. A sob escaped my muzzle. Then another.

“Goddamn.” Mitch’s paw lifted, carrying me back up to his chest. “I had no idea you were feeling like this. I know things’ve been bad, but…” His pads squeezed me softer this time, and for not so long. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, though.” Clay rubbed a finger over my scalp and ears, but it didn’t stop me from insisting, “I just wanted to be alone.”

They looked at each other. Clearly they had no intention of accepting that.

“It’s not true about Neotrians wanting you gone,” Mitch stated. “At least, not all of us.”

“We’re sorry, man.” Clay stroked me again. “We’re gonna make this right.”

“How?” I sniffed, wiping my eyes. “Don’t go telling my parents. They don’t need this. Please.”

Both of them went quiet, tossing each other another glance, I guess. I couldn’t know for sure, hidden away behind my paws again.

It’d been years since I’d been up on this roof with my friends around me. Those times had been a whole lot happier. Livelier. Not that a small part of me didn’t appreciate it. There weren’t many Neotrians I felt confident being around since Registration. In fact, I’d go as far as to say they were the only ones.

“We can’t just let this go,” Mitch insisted. “We need to tell someone.”

“You can’t!”

“We kinda have to!”

“I came up here for some space. Peace. That’s all.”

He ignored my pressing at his fingers… If he even felt it. “Someone out there can help.”

“Along with us,” Clay said. “We’re gonna get’cha through this for sure.”

“What, like you have been so far? With Troy and his goons giving me hell on a daily basis.”

Here came the silence again. Relatively speaking at least. At this size, easily balanced in a single paw, every shift, breath, and heartbeat rumbled around me.

“We’ve done you bad,” Mitch said. “Guess we could’ve done more. Like at lunch on Monday...” I bounced from another shift. “I figured you were okay. Coping, y’know?”

“It’s fine if you ain’t.” The white strip on Clay’s muzzle creased with his smile. “Ya don’t gotta play tough guy.”

“Good,” I scoffed. “Not trying to.”

“Face it. Ya can’t do this alone.”

He was right. They both were. It’d taken me hitting rock bottom to realise it.

“We’ll do what we can to help,” Mitch stated. “With everything. Troy included.”

“For real?” Clay rocked back in his seat. “Troy?”

“I’m not saying… We’re not gonna fight him, damn. But… we’ll try to avoid him. Not let you deal with him alone if he does find us. Maybe then, we can report him. Hope they listen if we all say what a total prick he is.”

“Yeah, here’s hoping,” Clay muttered. “Worth a shot though, right?”

“You still need to talk to someone. Us, your folks, anyone. There’ll be teachers who’ll listen, too.”

“Did ya try Mr. Kennison?”

“No,” I replied to Clay. “We have two classes a week with him. Why would I?”

“‘Cos his wife’s Requoran. If anyone’s gonna care, help, it’s gonna be him--”

“Wait, you never told me that.”

“I only found out meself last week. Plus, I did try in the cafeteria Monday, but… you weren’t having such a good time.”

“See,” Mitch called, tapping my shoulder with his head-sized fingerpad. “Not every Neotrian is out to get you.”

A chill went right through me. The wind had picked up as the sun dipped lower. Thankfully, my big friends around me had blocked most of it, saving me from the worst. The rooftop wasn’t where I wanted to be any more. “Can I get my cloaker back?”

“Course.” Mitch lowered both paws to the concrete. I stepped off his palm pad, plucking my ring from his other as I jumped out of his hold.

In a flash, I stood as the tallest here atop the roof, helped by Mitch and Clay in their ledgeside seats, grinning up at me.

We left the warehouse soon after. They stayed with me the whole walk home, and beyond. Just as they swore, they both had my back. Downtown on our trip to the movies Saturday, in the park Sunday, and back at school Monday.

Troy, as much as we tried to, couldn’t be avoided forever. But, with my friends standing up with me, taking their share, his mocking and his insults didn’t cut quite so deep. They got called pussies, micro-lovers, traitors, and a whole lot more, but still they stood up to it. Not once did they back down, nor did they leave me to face his crap alone. We gave each other the strength to get through it.

And, on top of all that, they convinced me to open up. To talk. To them, my parents, to Mr. Kennison, and more. They all proved to me that there were people out there who had time for a Requoran Husky and his problems. They weren’t many, but they were enough to pull me through the rest of my time at high school. To be a light in both mine and Neotria’s dark times. To keep me from the rooftops.