Moon Run (Story) (Patreon)

It's taken me longer to write this month's Patreon story than I expected, but I have an older piece that I've been sitting on for  a while I'd like to share. "Moon Run," is something I wrote about three years ago and have never found a home for. It draws on my personal feelings about getting older and how the world changes around us.

One thing that is a background element in this piece, The Pine Community Coffee House, is based on a real coffee house that existed where I lived twenty years ago, The Epitome. A legacy of 1990s college culture in Tallahassee, FL, I was too young to really hang out at the Epitome before it closed. I went a couple times, but I didn't have a car and it wasn't close to the house. I had a few goth friends who said they hung out there a lot, but it was always something I expected to get to when I reached college. Sadly the Epitome closed just before I graduated high school, but it's still fondly remembered online,

I've chosen to set this story in a New England setting, but I've included a few other elements to 90s goth culture I remember such as clove cigarettes in the story. Some of you might recognize the band NIghthowl who appeared in my story "For Metal Do I Bleed," back in FANG 8. The title of this story is supposed to be a signature song by the band. Times change, but that doesn't mean people don't want to share their past with their new friends.

The smell of cloves is unmistakable as Amanda pulls out the box of cigarettes from her backpack. “Since we’re going back into the past tonight, I thought you might want a reminder,” she says, holding out the box to me.

I take the package and look it over. The label is different from the ones I remember, but lifting it to my nose and inhaling deeply, I can tell the product is the same. The strong scent of tobacco mixed with cloves is indistinguishable.

“You aren’t going to smoke that, are you?” says Tito, a scowl on his muzzle. The jackal doesn’t look too pleased at Amanda right now. “We both know, even though you’re an Ethiopian Wolf, we process scents the same way.”

The tigress gives him a sheepish grin. “Radu said he wanted to revisit the past with this trip, and Timothy knows how to get these. They’re banned in the United States now, but he can occasionally get the ones made in Indonesia.”

Timothy has always known a guy. Grey wolves tend to have big families and his is no different. If you need something done, no matter how specialized the work, he probably has a distant cousin who knows how to do it. “I did say tonight is all about the past,” I remark, sniffing at the carton again, letting the smell of cloves overtake me, “but I would get so sick if I smoked one of these right now. That was so high school.”

Amanda gestures behind us toward the dark, shuttered building whose steps we’re sitting on. “Is that not where we are?”

This entire night has been steeped in the past. We drove over here listening to Amanda’s and my favorite band from high school, Nighthowl. Now, here we are, sitting on the steps of our old alma mater, just like we did back in the day.

Unlike ten years ago though, the building is dark and abandoned. Students no longer walk the halls of the old Kennebec Valley High. We were part of the last class to graduate, before the new high school opened. The town had finally scraped the money together to replace the converted boarding school they were using, twenty years after it had been deemed out of date. You have to make do sometimes in rural Maine with what was available.

“Is sit here and smoke what you two used to do before I met you?” asks Tito.

I shrug. “Not here on the front steps, but down at The Pine Community Coffee House. It’s where all the weird high school students hung out. Hey, it’s where I met you.”

“We were freshman in college then though,” the jackal says.

“Yeah, but you used to hang out on the back porch of The Pine with us and smoke.”

“For a few months, before I realize I was completely killing my sense of smell.”

The tiger chuckles. “Oh, we knew it was bad for us back then; we just didn’t care.”

“Well yeah. I was a rebel,” I say, tail beating against the steps as it wags. “I was not going to let anyone tell me what to do.”

Tito grins. “Until I told you, I wasn’t dating a smoker. Then you quit.”

Amanda laughs. “See, you just needed the right person to tell you want to do.”

I scowl at her. “Whose side are you on?”

“According to your mom, yours. According to you, everyone else’s.” She smirks. “How are your folks anyway?”

“They’re doing good. Mom is planning to retire from the library next year. Dad still has a few years left at the paper mill before he retires. I saw your mother last week at the grocery store and she told me she wants to have us all over for dinner soon.”

The jackal shakes his head, ears flopping. “Someday I’ll get used to small town life and its weird run ins with family.”

“It’s been happening my whole life,” I chuckle, handing the box of cigarettes back to Amanda. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

She shrugs, and tosses them into her backpack. “I understand. I had one yesterday and wow did that give me a headache. How did we do that all afternoon after school anyway?”

“I have no idea, but it was a thing. We were so cool then, angry queer youth being all goth. Remember how we wanted to go sit with the college kids, but they wouldn’t give us the time of the day? I get it though. It was so weird that next year when we were college students how many high school students I didn’t know would come up and talking to us.”

“That’s because Johnny used to tell people about us at the new school,” says Amanda.

“Oh yeah, I remember him,” Tito chimes in. “He was the tall red fox who was two years behind us. What happened to him?”

“He went to college Downeast, and I lost track of him after that.” I sigh. “We had so much fun hanging out at The Pine. It was a second home both during high school and college.”

“Yeah, it was,” says Amanda, “but it was also different. High school was one group of friends, and college was a different group. I didn’t realize when I was eighteen how much my life was going to change until it did. Still, we helped keep the lights on at The Pine.”

“You know, sometimes I envy you two,” says Tito. “You knew when I met you who you were and who you wanted to be. It took me all college to figure out I was gay and to be comfortable with it. You were both out in high school.”

I shrug, and lean back against the stairs. “That’s only because everyone in high school thought we were dating, and it was getting old having to constantly deny it. We were still the only two out queer kids when we graduated, although I know a few who were definitely willing to experiment.”

“Having a friend like Radu gave me the chance to really explore,” says Amanda. “It was a journey for both of us, but it was a shared journey, even if the ends were polar opposites.”

I nod. “And throughout it all, The Pine was the second home I needed. I love my parents, but they can be a little dull at times. Everything was right there at the coffee shop, and in those walls, I could be that queer guy who wore black all the time. That place was my entire life outside of school and my extended family. It was a second, much larger family to me.”

“I know,” says Tito, reaching out and taking my hand. “I was there for the second half of that.”

Amanda sighs. “Why do all the good places have to get closed in this town? I cried for a week when The Pine closed.”

“Developers,” I mumble, waving a hand dismissively at the old Kennebec Valley School. “It was the same for this place.”

“Yeah,” says Tito, “but they actually remolded that building and restored it. Plans for this place keep falling through.”

I get up and dust off my pants. “Well, while it’s still here, let us explore what’s left of this past. If for one night, let me share with you the pre-Tito-Radu.”

“So how do we get in?” asks the jackal.

“Carefully. I don’t want to get caught.”

“You mean like when they caught us at the old abandoned mansion down on Silver St.?” asks Amanda.

“Yeah. We both had our own probation officer for two years. I’d rather not repeat that experience.”

Amanda grins. “You had the cute one. I had James Thomas’s father, and he used to try and bully me for that, saying how he was going to get his father to put me in jail if I didn’t do the things he wanted me to.”

“Oh him…” I laugh. “Remember how we hid cigarettes in his backpack so the school resource officer could catch him with that?”

“You two were really awful kids, weren’t you?” remarks Tito.

Amanda and I glance at the jackal in unison. I’m scowling, but Amanda laughs. “We were bored loners,” says Amanda. “Radu stopped being such a snot when he started dating you and had to learn to be nice to someone besides just me.”

“Hey!”

The tigress grins and gently punches me in the shoulder. “Let’s go commit some crimes buddy.”

“I don’t know if I want to commit crimes with either of you now,” I say scowling. “I feel this is becoming a two on one gang up.” It is for sure two against one, but that’s only because Radu doesn’t know the true purpose of our visit here.

The tigress shrugs and looks over the building. “Your choice. I didn’t come this far not to take the risk. Plus, we already walked past one no trespassing sign. What’s a few more?”

“Fine… but the first step is finding a way in,” I say, glancing over the boarded-up exterior. All of the first floor and basement windows and covered with plywood. Only the second and third floor windows and uncovered. Most are closed, but a few hang off their hinges or have broken glass.

“We’re not going to climb up to the second story, are we?” asks Tito.

“It’s an option but I think we can find an access into the basement. I don’t think high school students have changed that much since we were in high school. When I was younger, I totally would have come out here to do some urban exploration.”

“We finally get to see the cupola too,” says Amanda, tail lashing excitedly. “Four years, and I could never talk a teacher into letting me go up there.”

“Yeah, but we need to be careful. I kept hearing how the cupola wasn’t safe. I don’t want anyone falling through the floor,” I caution them.

“Well, I came prepared,” says Tito, hefting a backpack.

“All right,” says the tigress, pointing to one side of the building. “I’ll check this way if you two check the other side.”

“Sure,” I say. “Just don’t use the flashlight until we get inside. I don’t want anyone from the road noticing us.”

The school is a little way out of town, but it overlooks the main road toward Augusta. I and Tito set off, walking down the front side of the building. The basement of the school has egress windows that each open onto their own pit. The drop to the bottom of the pit ranges from four to five feet, and the openings have grills bolted over them. A quick glance at the rusting bolts tells me it wouldn’t be worth trying to loosen them. I’ve got some tools, but those bolts aren’t going to budge.

“Hey, Radu, what’s the story about the mansion?” Tito asks me.

“That? Amanda and I were bored sophomores, and we decided to have some fun doing some urban exploration. It was our thing for a few months until we got caught at the mansion. In hindsight, hanging out in an abandoned building smoking is not the smartest use of your time.”

Tito frowns. “You didn’t get charged with trespassing?”

“I did, but it was a suspended sentence. We both spent two nights in the county jail. It was mostly a slap in the wrist, but I had to answer yes to the, ‘have you ever been arrested’ question when I applied for jobs until I got my juvenile record expunged. I had so much time to hang out at The Pine during the first two years of college because no one would hire me. They thought I was a career criminal.”

“Whoa,” the jackal says, ears shooting up in surprise. “Do you think the cops will find us tonight?”

I shrug. “Maybe, but I think we can get away with this.” We’ve come to the end of the main building. The gym is on the other side of the property because the ground here slopes away from the structure. The pits for the basement egress windows have become increasingly shallow. The last few are just a step down, and they don’t have any bars. “This looks promising,” I say, pointing to one of the boarded-up basement windows. The wood looks like it’s askew a little, and it’s covered in graffiti.

“What is the charge for trespassing anyway?”

“For a place like this, it’s a Class E misdemeanor, up to 180 days in jail, and a fine of up to $1,000.” I jump into the pit and tug on the board. It’s been loosened and pulls back easily. “And I’ve got our way in,” I add, pulling out my flashlight to look into the dark beyond. I can see concrete covered in dust and paint chips along with a broken-down desk.

“That’s going to be lovely,” says the jackal.

I turn to him. “Do you want to call it off, Tito? Behind this board lies history, darkness, and a chance of legal proceedings, if we get unlucky. If we turn back now, even if the cops are down by the car, we can talk our way out with just a warning.”

After dating Tito for seven years, I half expect him to say no, to take the safe option. He tempers some of my impulsiveness, and I think that’s part of why it’s worked between us. If I say yes to something I shouldn’t have, Tito often will say let’s think about it first. He needs to say yes this time though. I can’t do this if he gets cold feet on me.

The jackal gives me a little wag of his tail. “You’ve been talking about this nonstop for a week. Anyway, we are here now, right?”

I’m worried I may be rubbing off on him though. Either that or I’ve been coming up with less cray things for us to do lately. “Can you go get Amanda?”

“Okay,” he says and heads back the way we came. In the meantime, I check out our access point.

The board covers a wooden window frame which the glass has been broken out of. A quick sweep of the light tells me the glass is still on the floor below. The board is loosely attached on one side, but I’m able to prop it open. My gut instinct is that some of the local high school students have been coming in here to drink. A sweep of the flashlight tells me that my suspicion is pretty accurate. I can see some empty beer cans in the corner.

What’s most destressing though is how dilapidated it looks inside. The school has been closed for eight years now, but you can see it’s already starting to show signs of serious decay. It’s getting to the point if they’re going to save this place, they need to hurry up.

By the time Tito returns with Amanda, I’ve lowered myself into the classroom, after knocking some of the remaining glass out of the window frame edge.

“Radu, where are you?” calls Tito.

“Down here,” I say.

Amanda is looking over the brickwork and the board with her flashlight. “God bless high school students and their graffiti. It says ‘Hawks Suck, Raiders Rule’ and below that it’s all ‘Hawks Rock.’”

I laugh. “Oh wow, I haven’t thought about the old high school rivalries in ages. I guess we should be rooting for the Hawks since that’s the new mascot. Hopefully they can show those Raiders who is the boss.”

“Small towns,” says Tito, shaking his head.

I shrug. “Gotta love ‘em. It was great going to Colby because I got to meet an entire new set of people. It’s a shame most of them moved away when they graduated.”

“It’s like that everywhere,” says Tito, “not just here. I’m the exception for staying here after graduation,”

“Yup,” says Amanda looking into the room. “Wasn’t this Mr. Graff’s classroom, the physics teacher?”

“I believe so,” I say, shifting back as Amanda jumps into the basement. Tito looks at the broken window, running his light over the bits of glass I can’t get out of the frame.

“Your hand, sir,” I say coming back and carefully leaning out over the window frame. “If you jump, you’ll be fine.”

Tito nods, takes my outreached paw, and jumps through the window. He lands with a crunch, but he’s off balance a little. I have to steady him with my hand so he doesn’t fall onto the ground below.

“I see why you said we needed to wear foot protection,” he remarks, the thick soled sandals he’s wearing having kept the glass on the ground from cutting him.

I pull the board back to cover the opening. “I cut myself a couple times when I was in high school before I learned that lesson.”

Amanda has already moved outside of the old classroom, and is in the hall. “Wow,” she says, “all the old posters are still up on the walls, Radu. It’s a time capsule in here.”

Tito is looking around the room with his flashlight. “It smells awful in here.”

I take a deep sniff, processing the smells. There is a putrid mold smell coupled with the smell of stale urine and beer, along with the general staleness of a long-shuttered building. “Yeah…”

“Come on,” calls Amanda from the hallway. “There will be plenty of time on the way out for you two canines to sniff all the interesting scents. I’ve got to see if something is still down here.”

“Hey, maybe I want to be romantic and scent roll in here,” I say, entering the hallway.

“You would not!” says Tito, alarmed from behind me.

“I just want to smell nice for you, babe.”

Tito makes a gagging sound, as he follows me down the hallway. There is no light in here except for our three flashlights. My night vision is really good, but in here, it’s useless without the flashlights.

The hall runs straight through the center of the building, toward where the central staircase is. Amanda is up ahead, but she has stopped by a bulletin board across from the main stairs. Her flashlight is illuminating a poster hanging off the board. “It’s still here!”

“What is still here, wait… the poster?”

“Yes, our club poster!”

“You guys had a club?” Tito asks surprised.

The tigress grins, “Oh yeah, Industrial Goth Youth, or IGY! It should have been Industrial Gay Goth Youth, but they weren’t going to let us call it that. Not everyone in it was LGBTQ+ anyway. They were pretty lax about what social clubs they allowed senior year, so we got to create a music club.”

“That’s so cool!” says Tito, “I would have joined if I could have.”

The poster has been here for eight years, and it is dusty. We made a college of various band memorabilia, some of which has fallen off, but most of it is still here, including our club photo. Amanda and I are in the center along with Johnny, Timothy and five other friends, all of who moved away. Of the old group, Timothy is the only one Amanda and I hear from, and that varies based on when he’s working since he does swing shift at the paper mill.

“Wow, we look young.” I say with a laugh.

“We were,” says Amanda. “And see, we loved Nighthowl even back then,” she says, pointing to a faded photograph of an album cover among the selections we put up on the board.

“We still haven’t seen them live either. I’m thinking group trip when they tour again,” I say, reaching up to use a claw to carefully separate the photo from the glue holding it up. “We’ll find a show we can drive to and take Timothy with us. I hear the new drummer Ice Spear is really good.”

“Wait, what are you doing?” asks Amanda.

“Taking the photo. It’s not like anyone here is going to miss it. I haven’t a clue what happened to the copy I kept.” With a gentle tug it comes loose, and I open my backpack. I put the photo into a folder I’ve got shoved in there.

“Good point,” she says.

Tito is looking at the stairs behind us now. “So, I gather this is the way up, but I see someone has made that impossible.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, turning around, and then I see it. A bunch of desks have been thrown down the stairs and lie broken on the landing above. “Oh come on people! Just because you didn’t go to school here means you need to wreck things.”

Tito looks at the pile of broken furniture. “Why would anyone take the time to do this?”

“Destroying stuff is fun, when you’re a bored seventeen-year-old,” remarks the tiger.

I look over the pile of metal desks and chairs. They are in a tangled mess, some of which lie bent and broken. “We aren’t going up that way. There are staircases on either end of the building we can use.”

“That sounds safer than trying to scramble over this mess,” says Tito.

“Yeah,” adds Amanda.

They both follow me back down the hall where we came from. On the other side of the room we entered through, at the end of the hall, is a door marked stairs. I have to force it open, but it leads to a clear wooden staircase.

“Do you want to go see our old home room or go the copula first?” I ask.

Amanda grins. “Copula!”

Tito nods in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds cool!”

“To the third floor it is then.”

Like the central staircase, these stairs have landings in between each floor. As we ascend, they creak in a gentle, familiar protest. After the first floor, there are uncovered windows which let in some moonlight.

“Why did they close this place?” Tito asks, as we are heading up.

I shrug. “It was kind of a fire hazard, and It was pretty drafty in the winter, even with the heat cranked up. A large imposing Victorian schoolhouse doesn’t exactly scream welcoming. When the town took it over, they had to convert it to serve as the high school. I know they were talking about putting in lofts, but companies keep backing out of doing the work.”

We’ve reached the last set of stairs. Here I can finally feel some airflow, alleviating the oppressive feeling of the basement. The window above the final landing is broken, and it looks like the walls here are damaged.

“It’s a shame they’ve left it vacant,” remarks Tito.

“I know. I’m not sure exactly, but I think the cupola access is in a storeroom behind the main stairs,” I say, as I cross the last landing.

Amanda starts to say, “Do you think—”, but is cut off by a loud cracking noise as wood snaps.

“RADU!” I hear Tito scream.

I turn swinging the beam of the flashlight around in a panic, just to see Tito drop through the landing as Amanda lunges trying to grab him.

“Tito!” I yell, jumping down the stairs.

Before I can reach the landing there is another ear-splitting crack. The entire landing floor gives out, taking Amanda with it. I have to throw myself back, so my momentum doesn’t take me over the edge, and I fall, almost sliding off the stairs into the abyss. My flashlight bounces down the steps and then disappears into the darkness below.

“Guys!” I scream, crawling over to the railing and looking down. The landing is lying on the one below it. By the light of our flashlights lying in the wreckage, I can see Tito is lying with a few boards over his legs, while Amanda is on top of the debris. A cloud of disturbed dust chokes the air.

“Are you two okay?” I call down.

There is a groan from Tito. “Maybe this trip wasn’t such a good idea.”

Amanda coughs. “I feel like someone punched me in the gut.”

“Hang on, I’m coming down there,” I say crawling up. In a blind panic, I run down the hall on the top floor towards the central staircase, through the darkened hallway. Some the doors here are open, and light from the dormer windows filters in. My foot falls echo against the wooden floor.

Reaching the central staircase, I turn and scramble down the stairs. I jump onto the landing, listening to the way in groans in protest before bolting down the next half flight of stairs to the floor below.

It’s even darker here, and I’m running in a panic toward the shuttered stairwell door, when I slam my shin into something on the floor. Thrown off balance, I throw out my hands and they connect with the floor as I go skidding down the hall.

“Oh hell!” I scream, grabbing my leg as I nurse my bruised shin. Carefully I get up and make my way down the hall, feeling my way to the stairwell door and throwing it open. I scramble down to the landing where Tito and Amanda are.

Amanda has rolled over to a sitting position and is rubbing one of her wrists, while Tito is lying on the ground. There is another smell in here besides just dust: blood. It’s not strong, but I know someone is bleeding. I make eye contact with Amanda, and she nods at me, so I kneel next to Tito.

“Where does it hurt?” I ask him.

“I think I screwed up my left knee.”

I grab one of the flashlights from the ground and then start gently probing along his left leg. “Tell me where it hurts.”

“There,” he grimaces, “and there, I guess everywhere?” The jackal has small lacerations on both legs and his pants are torn below the knee. He’s got a gash on one leg that is bleeding pretty good where a piece of wood cut him.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” I say, frowning, trying to see how deep the gash in his leg is. There’s blood, but it’s not too much.

“Nothing like a trip to the hospital to spice up your day,” he quips.

“I know,” I say, ears splaying and tail drooping. Not only did I want to show him my past tonight, I wanted to reach forward toward my future too. Now everything I had planned for tonight is ruined. “If I call 911, hopefully they won’t charge us with trespassing. I should have been more careful and realized some of the wood in the upper floor was starting to rot away.”

Tito takes my hand. “Radu, I’ll be fine. I’m feeling pretty banged up, but nothing feels broken.” He pushes himself to a sitting position.

“I’m concerned about the blood.”

“Bring me my backpack. I’ve got something in there for that.”

I fetch Tito’s bag. He rummages in it and pulls out a small medical kit and a bottle of water. He washes the leg with some of the water and then starts taping some gauze onto his leg.

“You brought a first aid kit?” says Amanda surprised. She’s gotten up and is cleaning off her pants.

“I was a boy scout. Be prepared is the motto,” he says. “You guys mentioned there could be sharp glass, so I grabbed the kit and shoved it in.”

Amanda chuffs amused. “You are such a goody goody sometimes. How does Radu put up with you?”

Tito rolls his eyes. “I’m just organized. Anyway, how come the landing gave out?” he asks.

I shine my flashlight up along the wall. “It looks like water is getting in through that window, and possibly from the roof too. Enough water produces rot.”

He snorts. “Wonderful.” He checks the gauze and then gets up off the ground. He hobbles over to brace himself against the wall as he tries to pat dust out of his fur and clothes. “Yeah, that knee is going to hurt for a while.” He tests his leg gingerly.

I come over, and try put one of his arms over my shoulder. “I’ll help you down the stairs, and we’ll get out of here.”

He sighs. “No, we should continue on.”

“Tito, you’re hurt.”

“We’re still going to the cupola on the roof. It’s what you both wanted to do.”

My ears splay. “Tito—“

He growls. “We are going to the cupola. I did not just fall down a floor to limp out of this death trap without first reaching our destination.”

Amanda has finished dusting herself off. “He’s got a point, Radu.”

I grumble. “Fine, but let me at least help you on the flat areas,” I say to Tito.

“Deal.”

We set off down the hall toward the main stairs. The thing I tripped over turns out to be an upturned desk randomly sitting in the hall. Tito leans on me heavily, but when we get to the grand staircase, he gingerly takes the stairs on his own, one step at a time.

Amanda doesn’t say anything, but I can see her massaging one of her wrists when I glance back as I’m leading them up the stairs. They’re both hurt, and this is my fault. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.

It turns out the access to the cupola on the roof is located where I thought it was, up a narrow ladder. This space doesn’t seem to be as disturbed, so it’s possible most of the high school kids haven’t made it up this far.

“The cupola should be right above us.”

Amanda shines her flashlight up and down the ladder and then reaches out to test it. “It seems sound.”

“I’ll go first,” I offer, taking hold of the rungs and starting to climb.

The ladder leads to a wooden trap door that allows access to the cupola. Large glass windows and the small dome above give a bird’s-eye-view of the roof and overgrown grounds. We’re up above the treetops, and from up here, you can see the surrounding rolling hills and where the nearby river cuts through them. The town glitters in the distance.

“It’s beautiful,” says Tito, coming up behind me.

“Yeah.” I turn off my flashlight so no one notices me, and walk around the edge of the octagonal cupola until I spot a latch for a door. I depress the latch and push against the doorframe and with an audible creak and groan of old hinges, the door swings open to the platform beyond with a decorative balustrade. It’s narrow but we can all squeeze outside together.

Amanda carefully looks over the ground with her flashlight before turning it off and stepping outside. “It looks a lot safer than that staircase. I knew the teachers were lying when they said it wasn’t safe up here. How could they keep this away from everyone?”

“I don’t know,” I say glancing around, “but it’s breathtaking.” The moon is up and it’s shinning above the rolling hills outside of town. I’ve seen this view from down below, but up here it’s like we’re on top of the world.

“I hope they save this building,” says Tito. “I’d hate to see this get demolished. At least The Pine got remolded.”

“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “You don’t realize how much of the past you lose until it’s gone. I mean think about IGY and what happened to that group.” I comment to Amanda.

“Well, I saw Timothy yesterday, but everyone else? Graduated with a job or working a trade. They’ve all got responsibilities now. We’ve got responsibilities. I know Kristina just had her second kit last month, but she’s down in Portland. Maybe we should go see her soon.”

“I guess,” I say. “It would be like old times, but different.”

“Things change,” says Tito, resting a hand on top of mine. “Some of that’s good, some of that’s bad. The past is always a thing fading away, while the future is always something we’re reaching toward. Speaking of that,” says the jackal, letting go of me, and digging into his backpack, “I’ve got you something that will bring you back. Not this far back, but still back. Hopefully the fall didn’t damage it.”

“What is this?” I ask, as he hands me a thermos. I open it, and the strong smell of fresh coffee with a hint of Irish Cream flavoring hits my nose. “You did not!”

“Remember when I first met you, back at The Pine? Well I wanted to take you there for our anniversary last month, but I can’t since they’re out of business. When you told me about this trip, and how you wanted to share your past with me, I wanted to share something of our past together with you. I got you your favorite coffee.”

I raise the cup to my muzzle and take a quick lap at it. It’s the exact taste I remember from my college days talking to this jackal I had met about how his classes were going. Low acidity, earthy and bright, with the right amount of Irish Cream added. “How, how did you find this blend?” I say surprised, ears erect.

“I asked Amanda what they used to serve.”

“I did work there for a little while,” she says, grinning. “I made the coffee, but Tito bought the beans.”

“I—"

“Hush,” says Tito, snuggling up next to me and looking out at the countryside. “Let’s just enjoy this moment.”

I take another sip, and then press the thermos into his hand. “This moment is almost perfect, but it needs one more thing.”

He glances at me and holds up the coffee to his nose. “It’s still warm. The thermos is supposed to keep things hot for hours. The contents are also well mixed from the fall.”

I reach into my pocket, and feel for something. The small box is still there. “It’s not you, it’s me,” I say breaking out of his embrace.

“Radu?”

I get down on one knee. “These past seven years have been magical, Tito.” I press the small box into his hand. “I want to take it to the next level.”

The jackal frowns and takes the box in one hand, holding the coffee in the other, and pops it open with a claw. His ears pop up. “This is—”

“Will you marry me, Tito?”

I can see his hand shake. “Oh you awful orange fuzz butt! Yes of course yes, but here?”

“Alone above the world as I hold you,” I sing, taking his hand and kissing it, “I shall make you mine…” trailing off to see if he’ll finish the song lyrics.

“Nighthowl,” he laughs. “You’re proposing to me with Nighthowl lyrics?”

Amanda snickers, but tries not to say anything else.

I wag my tail. “Yes.”

He shakes his head. “Moon Run… you recreated the song Moon Run.”

I grin. “Yes!”

“Run with me, run with me to the moon, and you’ll be mine. Alone above the world as I hold you, I shall make you mine, and you shall make me yours,” Tito sings to me softly as he gently pulls me up.

Amanda chuckles. “You would have been a great member of IGY, Tito. I wish we could have shared that with you.”

I laugh and tilt my muzzle up to give Tito a kiss.

“You taste like coffee.”

“I can smoke a clove if you want,” I grin.

He rolls his eyes and I just giggle.

“Please don’t make me have to say no. I told you, I’m not dating or marrying a smoker. The coffee taste is fine,” he says to me, as I embrace him. The coffee returns to my hands and as I hold him tight so long that Amanda starts singing an old child’s song about Tito and I sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

“Do we have to invite her to the wedding?” asks Tito.

“Hey!”

“It depends how long she sings for,” I say, holding my jackal tight.