A Prim and a Prophet
Copyright© 2019 by Christopher Podhola
Chapter 10: The Rabbit, the Cat, and the Fox
∞
There were three. All facing off in the middle of a high grass field, all possessively angry, not over food, but over something else, which could only be guessed.
The rabbit seemed terrified and yet it didn’t run. He stood his ground, hissing as if confused, believing itself a viper instead of a hare, a pair of rabbit jean coveralls with weeds sticking out of every orifice. Would he take a break from his face off to pace on a path, making a Broadway spectacular display of mocking his rabbit sister?
Kam was the rabbit, but who were the cat and the fox?
The cat’s ears laid tight against its skull and its eyes glowed with anger, almost matching the bright color of the orange jumpsuit it wore, ready to attack, claws extended as it swatted first at the rabbit, then at the fox.
The fox, watching the cat with one eye, keeping the other on the rabbit, not worried about either, his robe half open, fox fur blowing in the breeze, knowing why he was there, but keeping it to himself.
The cat is Decker Albright, Whitney’s mind filled in.
Decker Albright bore the consequences for something Whitney did and in order to free herself from the guilt of it, she hid her memories inside of the bloodstone.
She was dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, her question not her state of being awake or asleep, but whether the dream had meaning, meaning, meaning. Was Decker Albright important to the line her life was traveling, or was he just a forgotten piece of her past, a past that went unburied for years, until she removed the black stone (bloodstone) from its den.
He is a part of your past, her mind reminds her. He is the part of you that you want to forget, the reason for your blindness and your deafness. Seeing him, remembering him, is the same as looking yourself in the mirror and seeing who you really are. You are not Whitney Leighton, the simple blind and deaf girl from Burnsville, Missouri; you are Jo-Laina, the cold and heartless killer, capable of taking a life without remorse. Remembering him is your reminder of that, Whitney. He is your mirror, the reflection of your inner self. The one you tried to forget when you were twelve.
Without warning, the cat leaps at the fox who takes a simple and easy step to the side like a lion tamer with a chair and whip, the fox smiles as he moves out of the cat’s way and the rabbit, teaming up with the cat, takes matters into his own paws. He,, jumping for the fox, using his powerful legs to propel him, aiming for the center of his back as if knocking him forward onto his face is a brilliant strategy, but it is not. The fox ducks forward and the rabbit overshoots him. The fox pulls something out of his cloak, to Whitney it looks like an ordinary stick, but it is nothing ordinary at all, for waving it seems to have the ability to drop the rabbit and the cat, dead, where they land.
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