Fuzzy Business by Amelia Ritner

Author:Amelia Ritner [Ritner, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-08-20T04:00:00+00:00

8

It was almost midnight by the time I pulled the Geo P.O.S. into my parents’ driveway. It had taken awhile to help John and Connor up the hill, and another few minutes of driving blindly around old coastal streets to get my bearings.

The automatic security light over the porch came on as I pulled up as close to the sidewalk as I could. I turned the engine off and before I even opened my door, I saw my mother standing on the porch in her pajamas and bathrobe, waiting to open the door for me.

I gave her a little wave when I stepped out of the car and then slid the seat forward and helped John get out. Connor had already managed to angle his way out of the opposite door when I had John on his feet, so I let John lean on me and we walked around the back of the car. Connor was still bleeding, but it was slowing down with the tourniquet I’d put on his arm, and apparently a meager arm wound and some scratches weren’t enough to slow him down.

I walked slowly down the sidewalk to the front door, supporting John with my shoulders and Connor cradling his injured arm as he walked within inches of me. Mom helped me take some of John’s weight, the only response to his being a coyote-man a brief widening of her eyes.

My mom was a trooper. A social butterfly in her youth, her decision to genetically engineer her daughter had ostracized her from much of the world around us. But she still wanted that companionship, and she was, in all senses of the word, a mother. I think she would have helped even the mafia guys if one of them had shown up bleeding all over her kitchen floor.

We got into the house, where the table lamps had been turned on in the living room but the rest of the house remained lit only by night lights. When Mom saw Connor’s bloody arm, she grabbed the First Aid Kit off the sofa and ushered us into the kitchen; presumably so as not to get blood all over the carpet.

We all sat down on the black and white linoleum floor, and I helped the guys get out of their shirts. On any normal occasion, seeing that much skin might create a thrill, especially being confronted with rippling man-muscle, but all I could think about was how badly I’d seen John being beaten and burned, and how much blood Connor had already lost from his gash.

My mother, to her credit, worked wordlessly; soaking towels in icy water to wash out wounds and pulling bandages and salves from her huge kit. My father wandered into the kitchen several minutes after we got there, and looked down.

“What the hell?” he asked, staring openly at John.

“Hi, Dad,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Mom is just helping me patch up my friends. They had a little accident in a car and we didn’t think it was serious enough to go to the hospital.

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