The Foxes

Chapter 2

Brody loved fall, but will fall came school, and try as he might, Brody simply could not love school. He felt like he was wasting time just sitting in a room full of other kids who all had different interests. Of course it was possible that some of them would choose a career in physics, but it was unlikely that more than one or two would. Brody didn't know what he wanted to be or do, but he knew that sitting in a classroom was not how he would achieve it. He knew that he had to go out into the world and find his destiny, or some crap like that. His mother had taught him that.

Despite himself, Brody sat and took notes, just the same as the rest of his classmates. The information seemed to go into his ears, though, through his skull, bounce around a bit, and then fly out the other ear. Brody had never had a real problem learning, in fact he was one of the kids that aced tests without really trying. He just had trouble making himself retain information. There was something ridiculous to him about sitting in a room of neutral colors, with peers wearing neutral faces, being neutral with him. 

Brody didn't have many friends, not real friends, and at one time he had considered that to be the problem. He knew that he could have friends though, he could have the whole school as his friend, he just didn't want to. Brody had spend the previous two years in a struggle to like school. He loved it, in theory, but in practice he wanted to scream and jump out a window. The idea of learning and socializing was so great to a book lover, the idea of taking in all the information that he found and falling in love with someone and getting married, but Brody was a realist. He knew that 50% of marriages ended in divorce and that most people didn't marry their high school sweetheart, but the concept was so wonderful to him. The thought that two people could be so in love that they would never even need to look at someone else and still know that they were wholeheartedly, undoubtedly in love was one of the most beautiful to him.

Brody wandered through the day, constantly checking his watch. He knew that the day wouldn't end any sooner, but he couldn't stop his glance from going back to his watch. 

Finally, the day ended. Brody was free. Only until the next day, but free was free. On his walk out of the school, Brody saw plenty of people waving to him, people that he might consider friends, but they were only being polite. Brody was only polite back. He had a mission, and not much time for it. If he wasn't on his way fast, he'd lose his nerve.

***

The sky was sea ridge blue, the trees brilliant green, waiting until October to change into the oranges and yellows of fall. Rosewood, Virginia was like the rest of northern Virginia, refusing to conform to the traditional seasons. It was the first day of fall, which meant that it was very much still summer temperature in the afternoon. The ground was all crumbly dirt, with tufts of grass every so often. It didn't feel like the right day for Brody to have the nerve he needed, but life had never been a comfortable thing to him.

Brody took each step haltingly, telling himself not to scare off any animals. A big part of his brain said, Walk slowly so you don't make any sounds. Another part of his mind, a much quieter part, said, You're only walking slowly because you're chicken. Both voices were right, of course. If Brody stampeded through the forest like a bull seeing red, acting like a shark chasing blood, he'd never see what he needed, but if he told anyone that he'd walked slowly for only that reason, he'd be a lair. 

Brody set his bag down close to the treeline but still out of sight from anyone not in the woods. Soundlessly, he continued into the world that he'd always wanted to be a part of. It was the first day of fall, the first day that Brody ever saw foxes. They never seemed to appear before the first day of fall or the last. They'd disappear for winter, reappear on the first day of spring, disappear on the last, stay away for summer, and the cycle would start again. Brody had tried to figure it out, but he never could. According to most any website or book or human, foxes existed year round, and no one else in Rosewood cared. They'd all hate the foxes as long as they could, and forget them for the rest of the year.

Brody had explored the forest plenty during summer and winter, in broad daylight, mostly with someone. But he'd known, then, that nothing would hurt him. Maybe he'd trip on the root of a tree sticking out of the ground, but he'd heal from that. Of course Brody loved foxes. Of course he trusted them, but he couldn't stop himself from worrying. It was like a mother sending her child to summer camp, knowing that the child would be fine and well cared for, that the child would eat and stay hydrated, that the child would likely not be attacked by a bear, but she couldn't unthink the thoughts that had wormed their way into her head. Brody could not get the thoughts out.

Brody came to a clearing that was almost a perfect circle, not a single tree stump in sight, no fallen leaves on the ground, no pine cones in the flawless grass. Nothing wrong with it, which probably meant that there was something wrong with it. Brody had never seen the clearing before. In all his years of wandering, he had never stumbled across a perfect clearing in his forest. He wondered how long he'd been walking, how long he'd been looking and what he'd missed. Taking note of where he'd come from, Brody sat down in the lush green grass. 

Now, Brody had seen the movies, so he knew that a serial killer was bound to walk out at any given time. Either a serial killer or some sort of paranormal beast. Brody also knew that he'd have heard  about a serial killer near his town, and that he was the only living person in Rosewood who believed in the paranormal or magic. He guessed that he was safe, Sometimes perfect circles happen in nature. Eggs were pretty much perfect ovals. 

As Brody sat and waited for a masked man to walk into the clearing and kill him, he began to think about how ridiculous it was to look for foxes. They were mostly nocturnal, and there was a good chance that Brody wouldn't just find one wandering around the woods. He was being ridiculous. 

But as he stood up, brushing dirt off his legs, he heard a leaf crinkle somewhere just outside the clearing. Assuring himself that it was not, in fact, a serial killer, he looked around quickly, but he saw nothing. Nothing except a little bit of orange, but it was gone too quickly. And then the bright orange he'd glanced was right in front of him, staring straight into his eyes. Suddenly he wasn't so scared of this fox. There was nothing to be scared of.

Its black paws were relaxed, not about to pounce, its ears were not pinned back, the fox was nonthreatening. It was beautiful.

Brody was frozen, unable to look away. Maybe a perfectly circular clearing, made by nature and not man was a hard concept to grasp, but this fox was perfect, at least to Brody. Nature was full of crap like mosquitoes, but it was also full of beauty. Every spring and every fall, Brody realized how horrifically he'd forgotten the elegance of nature, and how little time he had with it.

The fox was gone before Brody remembered to breathe.

Brody remained frozen for a moment, and only two words came to mind when he'd regained his mind, "Holy shit."

He'd whispered it so quietly that he wasn't sure if he'd even said it, but that was the only way he could think to describe nature in that moment.

Holy shit.