[ DESMOND ]
I sat silently in the backseat of my parent's old station wagon, paying no heed to the world that was quickly passing by outside my window.
Loudly and obnoxiously, however, was how I acknowledged the fact that my ears began to clog up. I had been bitching about this trip from the moment we left the house, what now felt like several hours ago; family vacation or not, I wanted no part in leaving the comfortable confines of my basement-level bedroom.
But they insisted. Repeatedly. They were even sending my annoying little sister over and over to bug me until I packed, and that was probably the worst part of the whole thing! They told me to pack as many of my clothes as possible and whatever necessities I felt I would need for the trip.
I packed. Oh yes, did I ever pack. Two suitcases full of clothes and a third full of my electronics, chargers, and game machines. Even a few of the prized collectibles that I wasn't willing to leave home alone, in the event somebeast broke in and stole all of my precious belongings.
Was I twenty-seven years old? Yes. Did I have a job? No. Did I ever contribute anything to the household, pay bills, buy food and be anything other than a burden on my family? Also no. I will, however, deny all accusations against my being a burden on my family. I kept myself within the confines of my parent's basement; I was actually doing THEM a favor by never getting in their goddamn way.
And you know what? It was working, I felt. They got to keep their son close by, and I got to live rent-free and had largely stayed out of their fur while I was there... But, I suppose when I put it that way, I did kind of owe them this little trip, even if I planned to ignore them the whole time and listen to my anime soundtracks instead.
I chanced a few glances to my side every so often, and each time, I noticed the familiar sights of beautifully developed cities and towns paved with tarmac gradually disappearing every time. I didn't think of much at first, but when the roads started to snake and the trees went from towering over the family vehicle to being well below us, I began to question things a bit.
"What the hell?" I said, head cocked to the side as I attempted to pop my ears. That was when my father looked at me through the rear-view mirror, his beady black eyes looking almost nervous. My mother reached over and patted his arm with her hand.
"What's the matter, son?" He said, and it was then I noticed that the tentacles on his nose were limp, a usual telltale sign that his emotions were running damp. I thought maybe they had argued at some point during the trip when I was paying them any attention, but the comforting pats my mother was offering him said otherwise.
Comparatively speaking, the tentacles on the end of my nose were wriggling erratically. And if you haven't figured it out yet, me and my family are Star-Nosed Moles; Our species got their namesake from the fleshy pink appendages at the ends of our snout. Usually sporting eight tentacles, four over each nostril. They're prehensile and likely had served a purpose in our Primal days, but nowadays, they're unsightly emotional indicators.
I take that back. They're somewhat popular in pornos, mainly the stuff that low-budget studios shit out trying to entice beasts that get off on the gross-out porn—never seen a Star-Nose that hadn't had plastic surgery in anything but that sort of stuff.
"Where in the fuck are we going?" I questioned.
"Could you please watch your language in front of your little sister--"
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Squeaked my toddler-sized sister, locked in her car seat beside me. My mother growled in frustration.
"We're just visiting a distant cousin of your mother's up in the mountains, son." His father said, the faded pink tentacles still hanging limply across his upper lip. "Surely your mother had mentioned them to you?"
I honestly couldn't recall, but it was entirely possible. I shrugged in response and said, "I... guess so. I thought all of your cousins lived in Nevada, though, Mom?"
"This one was long lost, dear. They found me via Ancestry evidently, and since we lived nearby, I... I thought we'd surprise them with a visit. Yeah, that's it."
We'd been driving for hours by this point. I'd doubted my mother's concept of what being "Nearby" meant by this point.
Either we came back down off the mountain in the last hour, or I just got used to the clogged sensation my ears had been experiencing, but I felt fine as we rolled into this shithole of a town. It looked about as dead as a town could look in this day and age. Houses were sparse, kept far apart from one another by large fenced-in yards. I saw some farm animals grazing in a nearby field! Even saw a fucking K-Mart.
A. K-Mart. In 2024. Are you shitting me right now? Did we drive back in time or something over the last few hours or what?! That notion had only been firmed up when we came off the pavement and hit a gravel road, driving slowly down a backwoods road that took us behind another set of small houses and cottages.
The only remotely neat thing I saw as my father drove along the dirt road was the short walls made up of red brick; some had various beasts sitting upon them, while others housed smaller birds and even plants.
My father took a right at the sign pointing east that said "Main Street, Brickhedge". Moments later, we were on sweet, smooth pavement once more as we passed more low brick walls. This road took a right into the heart of town, which was thankfully far more built up than the hillbilly shit we just drove through.
I could see a movie theater, and beside it looked to be some sort of Italian restaurant just down the road.
The car idled for a few seconds longer than it needed as we pulled up to a stop sign. I could see my mother applying some pressure to my father's forearm. I felt there was something I was missing here, but I couldn't quite get myself to care. I was about to ask my parents a legit question for the first time in probably decades when movement just outside of my peripheral vision caught my beady black eyes.
To our right, on the opposite side of the street/intersection, was a fairly average assortment of a building, likely some townhouses or small apartment complexes, All of which were built out of the same red brick we'd been driving along all this time. They were reasonably nice looking compared to similar lines of structures back in New Jersey—all except for the middle one, that is.
All of the doors and windows were wide open, and trash and debris were scattered all about the unkempt lawn, with more being added to the mess every few minutes as the mystery beast inside appeared at a window or door and dropped another black trash bag into the yard.
My whole family just watched the spectacle; none of our eyesight was all that great, with mine being the worst. Hence the thick spectacles I had to get in order just to see a few inches in front of me.
The beast inside the building stepped out through the front door and exhaled loudly. That was when he caught a glimpse of the old Woody sitting idle at the Stop sign, full of gawking tentacle-faced moles, one of which was a fowl-mouthed baby.
It was an interesting-looking beast, that was for sure. He had all the hallmarks of a mighty wolf, minus the tail, which looked almost like it had been cut off halfway up. A chocolate-brown fur covered most of his body while his mid-section ran a pale, almost buttery vanilla.
He caught sight of us as he wiped the sweat from his brow and then waved. We all awkwardly waved back as my father put the car back into Drive and pedaled the gas to get us moving again.
For such a well-kept, built-up small-town street, there wasn't a whole lot of vehicular traffic. Most beasts were walking the sidewalks on paw, going in and out of buildings, or entering the main street from the numerous side roads. I could tell just by looking at the town that it was built with ease of accessibility in mind. Owning a vehicle here was an extra expense that most beasts probably didn't care to put out for.
I'd probably chuck myself off the nearest overlook if I had to live here, to be perfectly honest.
Bringing up the GPS on my phone as my parents drove through town like they were sightseeing, I tried finding the town on Google Maps. It did eventually give me some results, but not a whole lot beyond the name of the town, its latitude, longitude, and altitude. There were no user reviews, nothing about any businesses, nor was there a website or anyone on Facebook claiming to live there outside of an old, long-defunct town hall page.
That was concerning. Did my parents just unknowingly drive the family into a cult-owned town? Was I about to get fucking filleted with a sushi knife? I can't imagine moles taste too good. Maybe I'll ask the cannibal that abducts us a few questions before he--
My father lays on the brakes without notice, and I go jettisoning forward into the back of my mother's seat, smashing my snout against the rough, cracked material that covered the seats.
"We're here!" My father announced, never taking his claws off the steering wheel, nor did my mother unbuckle her seatbelt. They offered a quick glance at each other but said nothing more.
I craned my neck a bit, trying to get a sense of the surroundings outside the car. A few beasts walked by, gawking, but paid us no mind beyond that.
"Uh," I said, "Where's 'here', exactly?" I was right to ask. All that stood outside the car was a plain, unmarked building that stood about three stories tall, sandwiched between two smaller businesses that looked to be a pawn shop and a, well, another pawn shop. At a distance, this probably looked like the town, giving the surrounding landscape the middle finger.
My mother was the first to make a move.
"Come on, let's get out!" She said, her voice sounding nervous. I chalked it up to the nerves of having to meet a long-lost relative. Yeah, that's it. She popped out of the car, dressed in a simple blue sundress with a bright red hydrangea pattern. Her hair was still that same curly blond that she'd had all her life, or my life at the very least. She circled the car with an eagerness in her step that felt strange to me.
My father popped the trunk as I unhooked my belt and took a step out into the fresh mountain air.
It stunk. Like, it seriously stunk. It was a pungent, sweet odor that reeked of decay. I could not put a claw on what it was exactly, but I knew if I had to live somewhere that smelled like that all the time, I'd have to end myself. Probably a toaster in the bathtub. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Before I even had much of a chance to react, my mother had my luggage lined up on the sidewalk.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the building's glass door. That short body, the egg-shaped frame resting atop two itty-bitty legs. All this crammed into a pair of denim bibs, a red-yellow striped shirt, and a haircut that probably should have stayed in the late '90s.
And then the tires screeched as they spun in place, failing to grab the pavement quickly enough. I hardly had a second to react to the sight of my parent's wagon plowing down the street as two claws waved "Goodbye" as they flew out of sight.
And alas, there I was, standing alone in the middle of god-knows-where, with four jam-packed suitcases to my name and a family that outright just fucking abandoned me in the asscrack of America.
I nervously clinked my claws together as I felt more and more eyes fall upon me, Both from creatures on the street and those that had come to their windows to find the source of the sudden screeching of tires.
"'Ey, you all right there, buddy?" A voice from above said.
"God, is that you?" I said to myself, not wanting to look up. "I'm not a religious beast, but I could really use some help right now."
"Well, then, you've come to the right place, brother." The chipper voice replied as I turned and craned my neck upwards. There was an orange tabby sitting in an awkward and downright uncomfortable-looking position on the second-story windowsill. "Why don't you pop inside, and I'll meetcha at the front desk. We'll get you checked in, all right?" And then he slipped inside and disappeared.
I took a look to my left, then to my right, contorting my upper body only as I nervously glanced around for anybeast that might offer me some sort of forewarning, like in a horror movie. I was on my own and still in some kind of mild shock.
And then I saw the wording on the same door that showed my reflection.
"Brickhedge Boarding House", it read. I'd heard of these before, mostly just from one being the primary setting in Hey Arnold!, but beyond that, how they actually functioned in real life was a mystery to me.
Taking one last look over my shoulder in the direction my parents had fled in, I muttered "Fuck." to myself as I gathered up my belongings and stepped forward.
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