Page 11 of A Little Red
“Yeah,” said Azure, looking gloomy and Scarlet wanted to hug her. “She said it was too obvious.”
“Do we think she’s right?” asked Ochre, looking between his sisters. They all valued their grandmother’s judgement and Scarlet knew it troubled Azure and Ochre not to have her support.
“Maybe,” said Scarlet, “but the Earth is dying. Do we really have the luxury of being discrete anymore?” Azure smiled at her and Scarlet smiled back.
“No,” said Azure. “I don’t think we do.”
Episode 7
Tryptophan Coma
Liam
Liam left the pack and walked out to the bluff where he could stare at the moon. The family had celebrated Thanksgiving with the usual tradition of hunting wild turkeys. Feathers still floated in the air and everyone had settled into furry lumps under the pine trees. The pack was snuggled together, sharing their heat. It was usually his favorite part of visiting home. But tonight he couldn’t sleep.
His mother had been predictably pissy even though he’d arrived earlier than expected. Nothing he did was ever good enough for Aisling anymore. Not since his father had died. Callum Grayson had been a multi-war military veteran. He’d retire and then re-enlist after a few decades, taking many of the younger pack members with him. It had been good discipline and experience, and the military rhythm of life had been good for the pack. But when Liam was still in high-school, Callum had looked him the eye and told him not to go into the military. Liam had been surprised. He had always assumed that he’d do the military thing at some point, but his father had simply said that he didn’t think Liam would like it—there were too many orders. At first Liam had been pissed and tempted to enlist just to spite him. He could take orders. Did his father think he was undisciplined or that he couldn’t fight? Callum had demurred. He said Liam was a path finder, an experimentalist and a thinker. He said the military needed those things, but he thought it would take Liam too long to get to a place where he could use all those skills freely. Meanwhile, the pack could use them immediately. In the end, Liam had accepted his father’s mandate to stay home. But when Callum had died in an IED explosion planted by an ISIS warlock, Liam had questioned the decision all over again. And now he sometimes wondered if his mother questioned it too. If Liam had been there, could he have saved his father? Would they both have died? The questions hung in the air between them like ghosts that never quite materialized. He kept thinking that one or the other of them would ask the questions, but they never did. She just kept snapping at him and he kept taking it, but he could feel his patience for her grief wearing out and that made him feel even worse.
The moon was three-quarters full and fat, like a yellow ball of butter behind the lazily drifting shreds of clouds. The misty clouds gave the moon a pale rainbow corona and Liam sat down on a rock and fought the urge to howl. He wasn’t a pup anymore. He could resist the pull of the moon. He just didn’t like to admit how difficult it was.
He wondered what Scarlet was doing. Probably enjoying stuffing and pumpkin pie. He wondered what it would be like to have a Thanksgiving like that. He’d wanted to have the normal American Thanksgiving when he was a kid. His aunt had made him cranberry sauce one year. It had been delicious, but then his brother had accidentally put a paw in the bowl, red glop splattering everywhere. It had only looked mildly less violent than their actual meal.
He wondered how horrified Scarlet would be at his family’s feast. He was trying not to let it bother him that she was vegetarian, but he couldn’t deny that it got under his skin. Not that she ever commented when he ordered a steak at Maxim’s or grilled up a sausage at home. She never commented on anything he did. It bugged him that she didn’t take an interest. Yeah, he got it, she wasn’t interested in commitment, the stupid job came first. But she spent all of her nights with him. Would it kill her to ask about something important? Not that they didn’t talk about other things. His favorite conversations with her usually came directly after she’d read some sort of economics article and started with, “Now this is an interesting supposition.” But while arguing about economics, psychology, the environment, and the intersectionality of racism and religion made for great dinner conversation, it left him feeling like he was missing a level of connection that he craved from not being with the pack.
He sighed. It might not kill her to ask, but it was definitely dangerous for him to answer. The fact that Scarlet didn’t want to look too closely at his life was for the best. Why did he want to push his luck? He knew he probably ought to give it up. It wasn’t like he could ever bring Scarlet home to the pack. His mother was never going to find a human acceptable. The marching orders were clear—there needed to be grand-pups. It was bad enough that he was living and working in the city. If he came home with a human, she would kick him out of the pack. So, really, the relationship was over before it even started. And after all, she wasjusta human. It wasn’t like she was important.
Except that Liam had walked Scarlet to the train, put her on it, then turned and left, intending to prove to himself that he could take or leave her as he pleased. But instead of being easy, walking away had gotten harder with each step as he fought the instinct to go back and drag her home with him. He didn’t understand what was wrong. He’d never gotten this hung up on anyone before. He should have taken Scarlet’s edict of weekend fling more seriously. But every night he lay down with Scarlet, she would snuggle against him, fall asleep in his arms, and the sound of her breathing was like wind in the trees, lulling him to sleep.
“Hey,” said Paxton, coming out of the trees. He was wearing a heavy sheepskin robe and carrying a second robe that Liam assumed was for him. Liam concentrated, furrowing his brow and trying to remember what a human shape felt like. His bones snapped and tendons stretched, his fur either poofed off or shrank back into his follicles. He shook his head and tried to breathe through the sharp, searing pain that accompanied every transformation. The pain dissipated almost immediately, but it was always a part of his life.
“Hey,” Liam said, standing up and taking the robe from his brother. He wrapped it around himself and sat back down.
“Problems?” asked Paxton, sitting down next to him and taking in the moon.
“No,” said Liam, surprised.
“Then why are you out here instead of in the communal tryptophan coma?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” said Liam with a shrug.
“You couldn’t sleep last night either,” said Paxton.
“Too much moon, I guess,” said Liam. “Dunno.”
“You’re not becoming one of those stressed-out city people who need drugs to sleep, are you?” asked Paxton, his tone teasing.
“I usually sleep fine,” said Liam, ignoring the little voice reminding him that usually he had Scarlet. “I’ll go lie down again in a bit when the moon moves.”
Paxton was silent and after a moment it occurred to Liam to find Paxton’s wakefulness suspicious.
“Do you have problems?” he asked.
“No!” said Paxton too swiftly.
“Want to try again?”
Paxton sighed. “It’s not a problem exactly. It’s just that…”
“That what?”
