Come Together 》Octavian's Story

I am Betrayed by my Ferret

Jesse's P. O. V.

  I pedaled harder and harder, faster and faster, as if trying to cycle away from my problems (and believe me, I had plenty). Behind me, the sound of Penn panting was getting more and more faint. Turning to look behind me, I could see by the faint light of the moon that my stress-pedaling had taken me much farther ahead of Penn than I'd thought.

  Oops, I thought a little guiltily. Better slow down, stop for a bit and give us both a rest. I hadn't noticed it while pedaling, but my adrenaline rush was definately starting to wear off. I lifted my feet off the pedals and childishly let myself fly down the remainder of the hill I was on, gliding to a stop at the bottom and waiting for Penn to catch up.

  She finally pulled up next to me, and we just kind of panted together for a moment, gulping in the freezing air.

  "We need to find a place to sleep for the night," I said once we had both caught our breaths. "On a hilltop we could see everything coming, but that means others could also spot us more easily. I vote for going deeper into this valley, checking it out," I stated, pointing to the right. Penn just nodded, apparently still a bit winded. I didn't blame her, we'd been pedaling for four hours, and while she may have been physically stronger, I had better endurance.

  With that, we hopped wearily back on to our bikes and pedaled slowly and carefully off the paved road and on to the bumpy ground. We were heading toward a small bosk of trees that seemed to extend into a larger forest. Seeing it, Penn gave a small shiver and scooted her bike closer to mine, a look of trepidation in her eyes.

  "Lets not go too far into the woods," she said timidly.

  "Ok," I agreed, not wanting to make this any more stressful than it had to be. "We'll just go in far enough so that we can't be seen from the road."

  We got off our bikes and walked them through the trees, walking about thirty feet into the thicket. The trees grew increasingly close together, providing a bit of shelter from the wind and cold; for this I was thankful, as it was quite chilly.

  Picking a random tree to camp by, we pushed out the kickstands on our bikes and shrugged off our backpacks. Reaching in for the sleeping bag I knew was rolled up in there somewhere, I discovered that it was at the bottom, tucked in tightly.

  Of course, I thought grumpily, now I have to take everything out and repack it.

   I successfully retrieved my sleeping bag, rolled it out. Repacking all the displaced stuff, I then turned my attention to Fredric, who still wrapped in his towel and wedged firmly in my bike basket.

  My poor pet ferret had endured almost the whole ride quietly, with an air of resigned indignation, but now he was more than ready to be free. I reached up to my bike basket from my position on the ground and grabbd him and his towel, setting them gently on my rolled-out sleeping bag, ready to cuddle.

  Sadly, cuddling - with me, at least - did not seem to be on Fredric's agenda.Giving me a quick look of reproach, he wiggled out of his towel and scampered over to Penn, whose sleeping bag was laid out right next to mine. Fredric walked over and sat on her lap like it was a throne and he was the ruler, giving me his most disapproving kingly look. Penn scooped him up and hugged him for a moment before giving me a sheepish look and reluctantly offering to hand him back.

  "Nah," I said, waving her away like it didn't bother me (which meant, of course, that it totally did). "You need him more than me right now. You're better with people and animals anyway." I couldn't resist sticking my tongue out at my traitorous pet, adding childishly, "if that little turncoat wants to stay with you, then he can."

  Fredric just blinked at me, seemingly unbothered by my statement. Instead, he snuggled closer to Penn as she lay down in her sleeping bag and zipped it up. I sighed, and deciding it wasn't worth making further fuss about, followed Penn's example, lying down and zipping up my bag as far as it would go. Penn lay facing me and I her; even in the dark, with her hair covering part of her face, I could tell she was scared and likely near tears.

  "Hey," I whispered, trying to sound comforting and confident, "We're ok, and so are our parents."

  "B-but your dad doesn't have anywhere to live now," she said, her voice shaky. "W-we burned his - your -house down!"

  "That was not our fault," I said firmly, trying to convince myself as well as her. "We had to fight the cockatrice. If we hadn't, we would be dead and the house would've burned. As for sleeping arrangements, my dad's probably conked out on your mom's couch right now." Seeing her doubtful look, I added, "Besides, my dad's a neurosurgeon, he can afford to spontaneously rent an apartment  for a while, and the house was insured, so I think we're good in that department," I finish, giving her a lopsided smile I'm sure she couldn't see.

  She nodded, stroking Fredric furiously. "My mom'll be so worried, though. I'm all she has... she's my best friend." Penn mumbles this last part, and I start to hear sniffles. Uh oh. This cheering-up strategy isn't going well, and I'm not too good with emotions. Time to change tactics.

  "Listen, we may be gone for now, but we'll be back soon, on much better terms.  For now, our parents have each other. We have each other. And we have to be strong for each other. In the end, it will all come together," I promise her in the most soothing voice I can muster.

  She gave one last sniffle and offered me a watery smile. "Pinky promise?"

  "Which part?" I asked jokingly.

  "All of it." She held out her pinky trustingly, waiting.

  "Yeah, I promise," I said confidently, latching my pinky around hers and giving it one small shake before letting go. "So you really trust me?" I ask curiously, trying to stifle a smile. Most people would never trust me, I'm a little too impulsive. I mean, hey, look where we are now.

  "Absolutely," she mumbled sleepily, turning to lay on her other side. "After all, you've got us this far, haven't you?"

  After that she fell silent, her breathing pattern evening out quickly.

  I stayed awake for a long time, turning her statment of trust over and over in my head. In promising that to her, I had basically taken both of our lives (and of course Fredric's) into my hands. Our safety and well-being lay on my shoulders now. That was a scary thought. Too much responsibility.

  I burrowed deeper into my sleeping bag, trying to make myself as comfortable as possible without a pillow. It took a while, but I eventually fell into a fitful sleep, filled with strange dreams about a man and two - snakes? - arguing with each other over trusting strangers.

  At dawn, I was ripped out of these dreams by being shaken awake by a panicked Penn and the sound of - was that Greek? - cursing.