A Fluffy Tale

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A Fluffy Tale Page 2

by Ann Somerville

Pyon jumped, startled, and dematerialised instantly. Julian’s hand tightened around the basket handle as he glared at Ledbetter. “Okay, you’ve said your piece.”

  He didn’t trust himself to say another word, so he turned on his heel and walked off. He paid for the food and managed to scrape up enough politeness to nod at the shopkeeper, but then he stomped out, furious and even more humiliated than he’d felt that morning. He’d come that close to punching that man and he hadn’t felt like that since school! Unworthy of Pyon? Who the hell did he think he was!

  The bus came almost at once and five minutes later he was letting himself in through his front door. As he tossed the food into the fridge, too angry to be hungry, Pyon appeared and sat on the countertop, looking expectant.

  “See what you’ve done?” Julian snarled.

  Pyon meeped and ran off—probably to make a little nest on the bed or with Julian’s clothes. Julian didn’t care. He flung himself onto his sofa and glared into space, his arms wrapped around himself. That pompous, supercilious, privileged prick! Pyon wasn’t ill, and neither was he!

  He turned on the TV but it held no interest for him. He couldn't think of anything but those hurtful, vicious words and the completely false accusation of…

  …cruelty.

  Was he cruel? Everyone knew you couldn’t hurt a kem—they just dematerialised if they felt threatened. You didn’t have to feed them, they kind of absorbed what they needed from inside the host. Actually, no one knew much about them at all. Except Mr Perfect Hair And Trousers apparently.

  He heard a quiet chirp and turned. Pyon sat on the end of the sofa, again looking wary.

  “Oh come here, stupid, as if I’d hurt you.” Pyon squeaked and leapt into Julian’s arms, and Julian, for a few moments, just gave himself over to the pure pleasure of letting Pyon cuddle and lick him. He’d never do anything to hurt him—how could that bastard say that?

  But when he sat up a little and Pyon curled up on his lap while Julian stroked him, he had to admit there was a huge difference between Pyon and Ledbetter’s kem—Linis, that was his name. Pyon and Linis. Pyon was small and scruffy and hyperactive. Linis was huge and sleek and apparently perpetually calm, even when his host was upset.

  Kems were all different with different personalities. Everyone knew that. But Pyon’s fur did look rather…limp. And thin. Julian didn’t usually pay any attention to that because his kem was usually rushing around like a mad thing. But Julian wasn’t sick, so why was his kem?

  Pyon made an enquiring little chirp and then dematerialised without the slightest warning. Was he hungry? Was Ledbetter right and Pyon needed more food—better food? But they didn’t eat.

  He stood up and went to the fridge. That remark about the fruit had really stung because it was true—he didn’t like fruit or vegetables much, and tended not to buy it because it went off. His parents—his Mum, particularly—had always insisted on vegetables at supper and there was always fruit in their house. Julian just didn’t bother when it was him alone.

  But maybe he needed to. He looked at his watch—yes, he had time if he used the tiny corner shop at the other end of the block.

  Half an hour later, he looked at the wildly expensive packed salad and the even more expensive piece of steak he’d managed to get from the deli he’d never used, a few doors down. “You better appreciate this, Pyon,” he said, grimacing as he picked up a bit of green stuff. Yuck.

  Chapter 2

  He didn’t have time for anything but his usual coffee and Danish before work, but he’d gone to bed early and slept a full nine hours. Pyon looked just the same but maybe he was a tiny bit less hysterical. He came back to Julian’s desk sooner than usual at least. It was hard to concentrate on him completely because Edward was slinking back and forth at intervals, and Julian kept tensing for another remark. He also wondered if Ledbetter would say something to the managers about Julian’s rudeness in the supermarket—he’d stepped over the line, he knew that and if Ledbetter complained, he’d have every right to.

  But Edward kept his mouth shut, and Ledbetter didn’t appear. Pyon got up to no more than his usual nonsense and didn’t make anyone spill or ruin anything, so there were no frustrated telephone calls about his kem. In fact, it was an almost peaceful morning, though Julian was glad when one o’clock came around and he could get some lunch. He’d planned to go out and find something healthy, but it was raining and he lost the impetus. At least he didn’t expect to run into anyone difficult at the work canteen.

  But once again he was out of luck because he spotted Ledbetter eating on his own—which was rather odd, since he was so senior in the office—in the corner of the canteen. Julian had three choices—head out for lunch, or eat in and ignore the man. Or he could do what he actually did, to his own surprise, which was to take his tray and head straight over to Ledbetter’s table. At least he got the small satisfaction of taking the man completely by surprise.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “I'm eating my lunch.” Linis stared up at Julian with huge golden eyes that seemed to read his soul. Linis’s host was already busy looking back down at his meal, Julian dismissed from his attention and his thoughts.

  Julian sat down and won a dark scowl. “Yes, I can see that.”

  Pyon appeared just then and once again, Ledbetter’s stern expression softened. “Hello, Pyon.”

  He reached out and petted him as Pyon skirted warily around Linis, almost on tiptoe with nervousness. The bigger kem didn’t move or react, just regarding Pyon with those big eyes and thinking his own kemmish thoughts.

  Ledbetter glared at Julian. “I don’t want company.”

  “Too bad. You like my kem, I come with him. I need to talk to you.”

  Ledbetter ignored him and concentrated on his chicken salad, still petting and stroking Pyon who adored the attention. Julian could feel Ledbetter’s hostility, and yet he received these vague sensations of pleasure from the constant physical stimulation given to Pyon. It was confusing and irritating in the extreme, and didn’t make him any more diplomatic in his approach.

  “I want your help,” he said.

  The man didn’t look at him as he answered. “Whatever it is, I'm not interested.”

  “It’s about Pyon.”

  Ledbetter looked up, his eyes unfriendly. “If you’re about to utter more nonsense about making him behave, I swear, I'm going to put a complaint in about you.”

  “I'm not! I want your help to…to help him. About what you said. My diet and stuff. I…I want to do the right thing. I ate a salad last night.” Then he flushed hot. He sounded so childish.

  Even Ledbetter was mildly amused. “And yet you lived. How brave.”

  “But I don’t know what’s the right thing for him. And how do you know this stuff?”

  “I pay attention to Linis and all kems, which most people don’t bother about. If you listen, you learn. I doubt you have much experience at the technique.”

  “God, you’re such a…such a…” Julian growled in frustration and Pyon squeaked in alarm. He hastily stroked his kem’s tail. “It’s not you, dummy.”

  “Don’t call him that!”

  Pyon squeaked again and ran up Julian’s arm. Julian shushed him gently and then glared at Lebetter. “Now who’s shouting and frightening him? It’s just an affectionate nickname.”

  “So you like being called a dummy, do you? Is that your name? Mr Dummy?”

  “It’s Julian and no, but a kem doesn’t understand the words.”

  Ledbetter made a disgusted ‘tch’. “You have no idea how much more they understand—and more than that, they know your heart.”

  “Then he knows I don’t mean anything by it. You’re not helping him by abusing me. I just want to know what I should be eating.” He shoved his tray across the table towards the man. “How does this look?”

  Ledbetter glanced at it. “Sugar, sugar, fat, salt, flour, oh and look, more sugar and salt.” He poked with his fork at the chicken bun on the pla
te. “There might be some decent protein in there but I doubt it. If you want to die young, by all means, keep eating that.”

  “Will you stop with the dying young thing? Why do you care anyway?”

  “I don’t. I care about Pyon. All you care about is your massive and badly nourished ego. You want to know how to eat correctly? Look it up, I'm not an encyclopaedia.”

  He went to stand and Julian’s cheeks burned in humiliation again. “You’re a hypocrite, though. If you cared for Pyon, you’d help. You’re the one with the massive ego. You just want to put me down and swan off, so sure you’re perfect in every way. Pyon and I can get stuffed so far as you’re concerned.”

  Ledbetter’s long jaw worked and then he sat down again, glaring at Julian. “Are you serious or are you just trying to prove a point?”

  “I'm serious. I…I don’t want to hurt him. I love him.” Pyon twined his tail around Julian’s arm and then stared up at him with his pretty green eyes. Julian realised it was true—he did love Pyon. He just…didn’t know the first thing about how to look after him. “And I don’t want him to die young either. So help me or shut up.”

  Linis stood up and stalked slowly over to Ledbetter so he could lean up against his chest and be cuddled. The look of serenity that came over Ledbetter’s face was so strange—so beautiful, in a way. Julian suspected that no one and nothing in the world was as important to Ledbetter as Linis, which was completely freaky. He didn’t know anyone this involved with their kem at all.

  On the other hand, Linis was very well behaved and Ledbetter was a successful lawyer in perfect control of himself, so whatever he was doing, worked.

  “Will you help?” Julian asked, somewhat more politely.

  “Depends on how hard you want to work. It’s not just diet. You have to give full attention to your health and to Pyon. You can’t even organise yourself to do your ironing.”

  Julian hastily pulled his jacket closed—he’d meant to do his ironing, he really had, but he’d been busy thinking about Pyon… “I'm so tired when I get home from work, that’s all.”

  “Yes. Because you eat rubbish, never exercise, don’t sleep enough and your leisure time is spent, what—watching television? Playing on the computer? I bet it’s not spent with Pyon.”

  “He plays on his own.”

  “Yes, but he’d rather play with you.” Ledbetter sighed, and for the first time, almost looked human. “You don’t understand. No one does. Kems love their hosts. No other company is superior.” He looked down at Linis and a small smile crept onto his lips. “And no other company is superior to them.” He bent down and nuzzled the top of Linis’s tawny head. “They’re the perfect companion, and you’re all Pyon needs—or would be if you let it.”

  “You make it sound like you don’t need other people in your life.”

  “I don’t.” The coldness was back. “This isn’t about me. This is about you. Will you commit to working or not? I don’t have time to waste if you won’t.”

  “I will. I want to do whatever it takes.”

  “Then dispose of that trash, and fetch yourself water, a chicken salad and a wholemeal roll. No coffee, no butter. A big glass of water. Pyon will wait for you.”

  Though stung more than a little by the haughty tone, Julian did exactly as ordered. When he returned and sat down, he opened his mouth to ask another question, but Ledbetter stopped him.

  “No. Eat. Concentrate on that task alone. Enjoy the food, and then let Pyon enjoy it. Take your time—you have an hour. Use it.”

  It was the strangest and most uncomfortable meal Julian had ever had, trying to concentrate on his food while three pairs of eyes watched him. He wouldn’t have thought eating a simple chicken salad—which wasn’t too bad, really, even with the vegetables—would have been so hard. His fingers seemed to have forgotten how to hold a fork, or how to break open a bread roll without making a mess. Ledbetter said nothing as he watched, stroking Linis and Pyon with the same careful attention as he’d shown to them before.

  At last the damn food had gone. “Happy?” Julian asked as he put his fork down.

  “It’s nothing to do with me…ah, see? He was hungry,” Ledbetter said when Pyon suddenly jumped up and into Julian’s chest. “And I bet he’ll stay out longer this time.”

  “What does how I eat have to do with Pyon?” Julian was sure this guy was making fun of him.

  Ledbetter regarded him coolly. “You wolf down your food and never taste it, so of course you don’t really enjoy it. You choose food that is easy and simple in flavour, which is digested too quickly and which leaves you hungry a short time later. Kems need the same things which make a person healthy—good quality protein, vegetables, complex carbohydrates, monosaturated fat—and water,” he said, pushing Julian’s glass at him. “And knock off the coffee—it’s very bad for you and for him.”

  “I get headaches without it.”

  “You get headaches because you’re addicted to the caffeine. It’s doing you no good, and not even keeping you awake. If you can’t cut it out immediately, cut down, and on the weekend, quit completely. Switch to tea, if you must. Kems are very sensitive to certain drugs, and caffeine is one of the worst.”

  “Okay,” Julian agreed reluctantly. It made sense—but he did love his coffee. “So I eat right and Pyon will be better?”

  “It’s a start, but it’s not enough. You need a full eight hours’ sleep each night, and you need to exercise.”

  “I don’t have time,” Julian said. “And gym memberships cost—”

  Ledbetter made the ‘tch’ sound again. “How far do you live from work?”

  “Uh…about two miles. I catch a bus.”

  “Yes, which takes you about twenty minutes. Walk—it’ll take you very little longer. When you toughen up a bit you can start running.”

  “Running! I’ve never done it—well, at school, but I was really crap—“

  Ledbetter stood up quite suddenly. Linis leapt up onto his shoulders to stare down as disdainfully as his host. “You said you wanted to work, yet every suggestion I’ve made, you’ve whined about. I don’t have time for this. I pity your kem deeply—but you’re a waste of oxygen. Good day.”

  Julian’s mouth, which had been hanging open, snapped shut as Ledbetter walked away, long back stiff and straight, Linis draped around his shoulders. “What the…?”

  He thought they’d been having a conversation, and then… That guy had the social skills of a lizard.

  Damn it and he was late. He’d done nothing but be chewed out and eat a salad for a whole bloody hour.

  Pyon appeared at his desk while Julian distractedly checked what new files had arrived. He looked just the same—cheerful, scruffy and irresponsible. Adorable. Julian scratched under his chin and then picked him up. “Can I really help you, Pyon?”

  Pyon chirped and cuddled close. Julian rubbed his face on the top of Pyon’s soft-furred head and wondered if he could do this—with or without the arrogant Mr Ledbetter’s help. He just had no idea where to start.

  He had to get healthy. A health food store? There was one not far from the office, so he dropped in there after work.

  That turned out to be one of his less clever ideas—not only did Pyon go berserk (after being unusually quiet that afternoon, which had lulled Julian into a false sense of security) but in between chasing after him and apologising furiously, Julian couldn’t find anything that looked like real food at all among the shelves and shelves of dried up, brown and unappealing things that he couldn't begin to name, or the jars and cans and cartons of mysterious, insanely expensive pills and powders making elaborate claims that, frankly, he found incredible. All the books were either about losing weight or becoming a muscleman. Not a single one was about looking after kems—or just becoming a normal healthy person. Healthier, he told himself. He wasn’t sick. Pyon was, and that was enough.

  Thinking of Ledbetter’s scorn, he ignored the bus stop and began the long walk home—but quickly realised his o
ffice shoes were just not suitable for this. Damn it! He needed shoes, and good food, and a book on what to eat, or something! All of which meant going into the centre of town to the main shops—and Pyon was already up to mischief. Of course his kem reappeared just as he pondered all this. “Can’t you just…stay inside while I shop? Please?”

  Pyon chirped, licked his chin and then disappeared. Julian blinked. Was that all he had to do? Ask nicely?

  “Pyon?”

  His kem’s little head popped out of his chest, eyes alert, waiting for Julian to tell him what he wanted. “You’re a good boy, Pyon,” Julian said—for the first time in his life—and Pyon trilled with delight. Julian patted him. “Now, you stay in there while I sort this out. It’ll take about an hour.” And damned if Pyon didn’t actually seem to be listening. Why hadn’t it occurred to him to just ask before?

  The excursion took a bit more than an hour but at the end he had a new pair of trainers, a sack full of vegetables, fish and other expensive necessities, and a book on healthy eating. By then he was just too footsore to contemplate the walk back, so he read his book on the bus home, and almost missed his stop, he was so engrossed. Only as he put his key in the lock did he remember that Pyon was probably waiting for permission to come out again.

  “Pyon?’

  His kem bounced out joyfully and leapt onto his shoulder so he could lick Julian’s ear and cuddle up to his hair.

  “Wow, you missed me. I'm sorry, little fella.”

  Ledbetter seemed to be right about that too—all Pyon really wanted from him was love and attention. And manners.

  Supper was grilled turkey, stir-fried vegetables and brown rice. He realised that he’d have to invest in more cooking utensils and probably some cookbooks too. The food sat well on his stomach, though, and Pyon was quiet and no more than pleasantly playful. Score another point to Ledbetter and his strange obsession with kems.

  Filled with good intentions, he spent the evening cleaning the apartment, did his laundry and ironing, and sorted out his food stores. Then he made a list of what he needed to buy when he went grocery shopping next. Pyon took a great interest in that, perhaps somehow working out it was to benefit him, sniffing at the list and even licking it at one point.

 

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